daughter started clapping. We were all so happy.
Monday was my day off, so that morning I was getting ready to take my son to high school in Rincon Valley when I received a text from my in-laws. That was when we checked the news and realized Rincon Valley might not even be there. Within short order we wrapped our head around what was going on, particularly when we saw the travel time from Santa Rosa to Novato, which told us the enormity of what was going on as far as evacuations. That was my big clue: they were coming and would need a place to stay. We’ve got space at Living Word, so I thought, well, we’ll turn it into a hotel. I got in the car and went to the parking lot at Vintage Oaks, by Costco and Target, and confirmed my suspicion that that was where people were congregating. So, I handed out every card we had, and I began inviting people to come stay with us. My son and his friend were back in the church and began clearing classrooms, and we had our sanctuary, which was ready to go, and then we put a sign out on the sidewalk. It just said Fire Relief with a red arrow.
When I got back from Vintage Oaks, what was following me into the parking lot was almost a caravan of people who were already coming with donations of supplies for the evacuees. We had several tables filled with supplies within an hour-and-a-half, overflowing, so we were very prepared. Wow, it was just very humbling to reflect on that.
That first night we had 34 folks, and the next night it was 40, and then it peaked on Wednesday with 70. Volunteers would come and say, “How can I help?” and if I didn’t have anything for them to do at the moment I’d say, “Stick around five minutes and you’ll be busy.” Or I’d say, “Do you have kids? Well, bring ’em and let them play.” We had kids running around laughing, because kids do that, and it was good medicine for everybody.
I never used the term victim with the evacuees. I saw on their faces, they were men and women who have a great work ethic and wanted to jump in too. They were cleaning and folding, emptying the garbage. Then it turned into mowing the grass and landscaping. There was one tree that really needed pruning. They helped run the shelter.
peace-filled place where they felt safe and had a sense of refuge.
It was about 2: 30 a.m. on Monday, October 9, when my 16-year-old daughter texted me from her bedroom down the hall. She said that our dog was growling. Our dog doesn’t growl, and I felt a shot of adrenaline. Then I smelled the smoke. On my way to her room, I passed the back patio door and saw that the entire eastern horizon was glowing, bright red with bursts of orange flames every time the wind gusted. And the winds were ferocious! The wall of fire on the ridge traveled as far south toward Santa Rosa as I could see. I can only describe my reaction as one of helpless terror. There was no stopping those flames if they came our way.
Later I would learn that this was the Tubbs Fire.
I spent the rest of the night with my family staring at the fire, ready in case it roared down the hill toward us. There was nothing between us and Tubbs except dry vineyards and trees. In hindsight, we should have packed up the cars that night, but my mind was in overdrive. All I could think was that our stuff didn’t matter if we were dead. My husband began spraying our roof, our barn and the surrounding grass with water. We have two horses, two dogs, and three outdoor cats, and I knew we’d have to leave the cats behind to fend for themselves. My biggest concern regarding evacuating was the horses. I had no idea where I’d take them. Most shelters don’t take livestock either. Besides that, I only had half a tank of gas in my rig, and I wasn’t sure how far we’d have to travel if we left. It was all very distressing. We decided that staying home to fight the fire was the best decision for the horses. Thankfully, the winds did not blow the Tubbs Fire down the hill.
We have many friends and several members of our Santa Rosa Pony Club group who lost their homes, horse gear and horse trailers. It’s difficult to see others suffering. It was also difficult to live with the terror for the next several days after Tubbs started. Every time I received a Nixle text, I felt a whisper of panic. Being surrounded by fires that remained at zero percent containment for half the week was awful.
TURN IT INTO A HOTEL.