On the fringe of Apocalypse

A panoramic iPhone photo of the devastation on Hemlock Street in the Coffey Park area of Santa Rosa on Tuesday, October 10, 2017 

In the wake of the cataclysmic inferno that ravaged the region throughout the second week of October, 2017, those who were wiped out face the monumental task of rebuilding their lives as those who survived materially unscathed seek to make sense of the chaos and wonder at the randomness of the universe that spared them total ruin while destroying friends, family and neighbors.

Countless friends and acquaintances were taken out as the aftermath rippled out into the community. Everyone knows someone who was burned out of their homes or businesses in this wide-ranging disaster that continued for more than a week as firefighters from all over and the National Guard worked to put out fires and keep some kind of order.

When the fires started Sunday night (Oct. 8), I was driving back from northern Oregon after a brief visit with family. I stopped for fuel in Cloverdale and arrived home around 9:30. My wife Colleen and I could smell smoke and went to bed wondering if there was a house on fire in the neighborhood.

At around 1:45 a.m. Monday, I awoke to my computer rebooting, which it did twice more before I finally shut it off. I drifted back into an uneasy sleep, subconsciously hearing the winds battering the house, thinking it was Google installing upgrades I didn't know I needed. But it turned the electricity was blinking on and off as the fire consumed transformers and wiped out a big chunk of the system in northwestern Santa Rosa.

The carport from a neighboring mobile home at Rancho San Miguel Mobile Home Park blew off in the winds that drove the firestorm in Sonoma County on Sunday, October 9, 2017

At about 4 a.m., a neighbor came and pounded on our door, ringing the doorbell and calling for us to get out. I opened the door and the howling wind was swirling through the trailer park, blowing debris and adding to the soundtrack of the dramatic moment. The horizon behind our neighbor—who looked like an apparition from Hell due to the light cast by the fires—was glowing bright red and there was a thick pillar of black smoke billowing up above. We could hear explosions and helicopters and tried to comprehend as he told us “the fire had reached Kohl’s,” about a mile north of us.

We had no idea what fire he was talking about, but the smoke and explosions convinced us to gather a few possessions and get out.

Refugees

We packed up our cats and a couple of the strays that live in the neighborhood and left the house with no idea where to go. My first instinct was to head for the Veteran’s Hall and Fairgrounds that were already being used to house evacuees/refugees.

Since we had the cats and the hall was filling up so fast, we decided to get a motel room somewhere out of harm's way. We lucked out and found one in Petaluma. The freeway was already a parking lot, so we took Petaluma Hill Road instead. It was relatively clear, so we were able to easily get out of town. When we hit the stretch south of Santa Rosa near Sonoma State University, we saw a line of fires along the ridges to the east and fire departments staging in the predawn hours.

Our old neighborhood on Tuesday, October 10, 2017

We were told it would be 2:30 p.m. before we could have access to our room, so around 7 a.m., we joined several other refugees in the parking lot near Starbucks on McDowell Avenue and tried to use their internet connection to no avail.

I went into Orchard Supply Hardware to see if they had pet supplies we needed. Their pet section was woefully inadequate for our needs, but there was a very somber and sympathetic man at the door handing out bottles of water to anyone who entered the building. Apparently, refugees had been pouring into Petaluma since 4 a.m.

We found the PetSmart and were fortunate to get in right before a rush of people started clearing the shelves of necessities for pets that were part of the flight. We then proceeded to the Motel 6 to wait for our room in the parking lot. After three hours waiting with other people wearing whatever clothes they ran out of the house wearing, we squeezed into the room and waited. As we unloaded our car, one of the strays we wanted to save managed to get away. We were never able to find her.

Waiting out the storm

We lasted the night in Petaluma and then decided to head home early Tuesday morning to wait it out or prepare to flee for an extended period of time.

The remains of our old house at 3670 Hemlock Street

Our mobile home park, one of a triumvirate of retirement parks in the immediate area, was in an evacuation zone, but it was as safe as anywhere else in town at that point. The park across the freeway, Journey’s End Mobile Home Park, was almost completely leveled by the firestorm, as was the Coddingtown Mobile Estates. I received texts from friends and family members expressing shock and sympathy about our loss, but was able to tell them that it was not our park that was destroyed.

We settled in expecting to have to live days or possibly weeks without electricity, gas or internet and with bad cell service.

Sifting through the wreckage

That Tuesday, a friend who was not evacuated came by and we rode our bikes around our old Coffey Park neighborhood, which no longer exists. Literally. It is a burned out husk that looks like it was razed by repeated bombings. It was a melancholy ride as we rode through the toxic air and heard stories from friends and acquaintances wandering dazed among the ruins.

We went home to hunker down in the dark, but somehow the electricity came back on Tuesday night.

Inside Journey's End Mobile Home Park on Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Wednesday morning, after the sheriff's press conference, I headed out to survey the damage within a mile of my house. The air was heavy with the smell of burned plastic and likely toxic building material, the destruction unbelievable: Round Barn; Equus; the Hilton; K-Mart; Arby’s; Puerto Vallarta Mexican restaurant, and Mountain Mike’s Pizza were just a few of the landmarks in the neighborhood that vanished in a puff of smoke and a pile of rubble.

Journey's End

I walked around for a couple of hours and all of a sudden there were helicopters overhead and a big cloud of smoke rolled in, turning the late morning into twilight. I practically ran the mile home and told my wife we had pack and prepare to evacuate at any moment. If we had not had electricity by then, we would likely have headed to LA to wait out the fires and we considered the possibility of Sacramento. Apparently though, the smoke was from a backfire lit to create a fire break for the battle going on in the Larkfield/Wikiup area that was also decimated in those few hours on Monday.

Fortunately, we didn't have to leave that day and on Friday they lifted the evacuation order for our area.

Aftermath

Now, much of what we know as Santa Rosa simply no longer exists. The places we run and hike on a regular basis are nothing but charred remnants. Historical buildings gone. Poof: Just like that.

For me, Colleen and our cats, the extent of our disaster was a night as evacuees who survived with nothing more than a few hours of inconvenience, without gas for our water heater or internet to keep us informed or amused.

The view of the remains of the Hilton Santa Rosa from 

Journey's End MHP on Wednesday, October 11, 2017

But there was a deeper sense of loss for us, as the house where we lived around the corner from Coffey Park for 15 years—owned by friends who became more like family—went up in a ball of flames along with the rest of the neighborhood we called home and grew to love.

My morning walks, designed to get the best view of the Fountaingrove hills, are now forever changed. The solid outline silhouetted by the morning sun is now the jagged, evil grin of a Jack-o’-lantern. The streetlights and various light twinkling from the houses on the hill that I always associated with the comfort of civilization are simply gone. In their place is a line of burned out trees and the ruins of multi-million dollar homes that don’t look quite right and take a moment to process.

At this point in time—a week from the start of the fire—it is not advisable to walk out the door without a mask because the air is toxic from smoke and when the wind dies or changes direction, we get more ash raining down on us covering the cars and house with a chalky patina of filth.

We're okay physically, but there is a pall and malaise overhanging everything, but alongside that is a sense of community and camaraderie that we're going to have to hang onto in order to rebuild and recover from this.

Northwest Santa Rosa in the wake of the fires

You're hired. Here, take this mop and go clean up that mess

Surveying the damage from the Hilton wreckage

Fire extinguishers outside of Journey's end MHP 

Remains inside of K Mart on Friday, October 20, 2017

SPC Masaru Kikuta (left) and PV2 Mikah Leyvas from the San Diego National Guard

Remains of the gun shop on Piner Road and Range Avenue on Friday, October 20, 2017. We could hear explosions from the shop burning down on Monday morning when the fires ravaged northwest Santa Rosa

Checkpoint to get into the Coffey Park neighborhood on Friday, October 20, 2017

The view from Hopper Avenue looking northeast
on Friday, October 20, 2017

Neighbors helping neighbors on Tuesday, October 10, 2017