Three Cent Stamp
Amusing musings and streams of consciousness

We stood there at the company bus stop, gazing back over the mountains and dense clouds of smoke. Another fire. This one centered around the Lockheed plant in Bonny Doon, CA., hence it was coined the “Lockheed Fire.” The fire had started Wednesday evening around 7:30 PM, but none of us really knew until Thursday morning when smoke angrily rose above the ridge, reminding us that it controlled us – at least for the time being.

There wasn’t much to do at that point but board the bus and jump on our laptops to get the latest news and updates about the fire. Going to work and concentrating on the tasks of the day were difficult, as our minds all wandered back to the gloom of the day. Some of my coworkers were at home, watering their roofs and yards, and on standby for evacuation. The last fire made its way and stopped only ½ mile in front of a colleague’s home. As the flames overcame acre by acre, he was feeling more and more anxious. Yet he refused to leave his home and who would dare blame him.  As my husband and I have been through this drill before, he began getting papers together and important things that we couldn’t possibly live without: The dog, the bird and the cat. Their kennel cabs lined the entry way to the garage and along with that were hard drives, laptops, and of course, my already packed (for an upcoming photo trip) camera gear.

Coming home that night, we stayed glued to the TV watching the fire coverage, which was heavily lacking in the kinds of details that we desperately needed (where was the fire now, what roads were closed and which areas were being evacuated?). Meanwhile, smoke glided over the mountain ridge ¼ mile from the back of our woods. Helicopters, one after another, made their way to and from the fire site carrying water and flame retardant. It sounded like a war zone. It felt like a war zone. A war we ultimately would win, but at what cost, we wondered.

Saturday was the worst day insofar as smoke and chopper traffic. Our nerves were on edge. We kept our windows and doors closed because the smoke stung both our eyes and throats. We were packed just in case, although it was highly unlikely that the fire wouldn’t be contained sufficiently, which would prevent us from any kind of evacuation. Still, we did not want to be taken by surprise, and if the winds were to change, so could everything else.

Our local paper created a live blog, which was a lifesaver to most of us. People closer to the fire, some of who had already evacuated, were sharing information about road closures and information they had learned the hard way, or had been given to them by CalFire and CHP officials. I was amazed that so many individuals were reaching out, sharing what they knew and what they had been through thus far. They were providing valuable support and comfort to the rest of us who were still waiting and wondering if we would be next. There were people on the live blog from as far away as France, searching for loved ones who no longer answered their phones. We gave them the name of the local Red Cross shelters, numbers they could call for updates and fire maps. My husband even jumped in to create an updated fire map, since nothing new had been released. We repeated info, as often as necessary, via the live blog and Twitter (although a user by the name of “Grumpy” was none too happy about the re-tweets on Twitter). But what they hey, too much info was certainly better than to little, and most of the news channels were insistent on showing the same clips of fire and smoke over and over with very little info about road closures and fire lines. I have to say that the blog and tweets were social networking at its best. I don’t know what we would have have done without the Santa Cruz Sentinel’s Live Blog.

Thank you Santa Cruz sentinel and all of you who did, and continue, to share new information.

On Sunday afternoon, I finally left the house. Fire engines and trucks looked like red ants, as they caravanned their way through the winding mountain roads over to the communities of Bonny Doon and Davenport. Many were defending houses and pre-established fire lines. I passed them, one after another, and had wished that I had a big sign that said, “THANK YOU!” as they headed in the opposite direction of where I was headed.

As of today, Monday August 17^th at 7:00 am, the fire still rages, 7,017 acres have been lost, and we are still at 65% containment. No doubt today’s morning fog will help. Some individuals, previously evacuated, are able to return to their homes, but there are still over 500 residents (and their pets & farmland animals) who remain displaced.

Today I am grateful for everything, big and small. However, I am especially grateful to the firefighters who have come here locally and from miles away to defend our homes and life. They’ve been at it for 5 days now and no doubt the lack of sleep, hot food and stress is taking its toll not only on them, but also their families who remain left behind like the rest of us, who wait and keep our spirits up.

Thank you!

These beautiful photos are taken by Phil Carer/Sentinel.

Photo below, courtesy of KSBW, Channel 8 news.