Kacey & Willow’s Fire Recovery Fund

After months of sheltering in place, weeks of smoky air, and days without power, my sister Samantha and brother-in-law Ryan decided a quick overnight trip to Santa Cruz would be good for their kiddos, my nephew Kacey (4) and niece Willow (2). A friend would watch one of their doggies, and the other, more of a “ranch dog” (Sage) stubbornly wanted to stay behind. They left her and the chickens plenty of food and water. With no immediate fire threat looming and planning on being back the next day, they threw a bag of stuff together and headed out.

No strangers to fire, they’d been evacuated In 2018 during the Camp Fire, when Samantha was pregnant with little Willow. They were displaced a few years before that when living in Calaveras County during the Butte fire, when she was pregnant with Kacey. After his birth, the midwife showed me the placenta, pointing out the areas that had been affected by the smoke. 

Little did they know that in just a matter of hours, evacuation would be mandatory and the fire would explode and ravage everything in its path. 

They had created a little utopia there, tucked away in Berry Creek, a hidden gem of a town in Butte County. They worked hard from sunrise to sunset cultivating the earth, growing fruits and vegetables, propagating thousands of starts and supplying them to others in the community. They built outbuildings, chicken coops, goat barns, greenhouses. It became the gathering place for our immediate family, an oasis. Eating plums or peaches, apples or cherries right off the tree, lounging in the hammock by the pond, watching the kiddos tend to the chickens or letting them give you a tour of the herb garden and realizing they know far more about vegetation and farming practices than I do. It gave me such joy knowing that their babies would grow up safely nestled in that beautiful place, exploring and learning so much. Selfishly, I loved that my baby would get to experience it, too and that we had that sanctuary outside of the city. 

Tonight, it was confirmed that it’s gone. The fire ate it up and spit it out, turning it all to ash. Thank God they are safe. Her chickens, which she and the babies hatchedfrom eggs, survived. And Sage, their loyalranch doggie, was their waiting, although with some burn injuries. Thank you to the firefighter lady who they know personally who was kind enough to go there, take photos, and take Sage home with her. 

I have been so upset, knowing it’s likely gone but also  not knowing, obsessively checking for updates, googling photos trying to make out sillouettes of backlit melting framework. Pausing video clips. Is their roof that steep? Is that a Subaru?

When I saw the pictures of their place,  I felt sick. I spoke with my sister within moments of her finding out, nervous about what to say, at a loss for words and the ones I had coming out quivering.  Immediately, she began to console me, saying she didn’t want me to be sad. That they are fine.  That she’s so thankful the chickens and Sage are ok, that they are safe when others weren’t so lucky and for that they are so blessed.

 She said, “God’s plan is bigger than what I can see. I trust it.” 

I trust it, too. I look forward to see what’sin store for the next part of their journey. If it is on your heart to help them during this time, whether it be prayers, words of encouragement or monetarily, it would be very appreciated ❤️ Thank you!

Love,
Heather (Samantha’s big sissy)