Karen Smith Lost her Cabin to CZU Wildfire
Donation protected
I write the story of what happened as I remember. Yes, it was less than a week ago, but adrenaline protects some of the sequences. If you are inclined to donate, your funds will be put to good use as I lost everything.
For those of you who have not read my recount of my day of the fire, here it is:
August 21 9:30pm I think it’s time you heard the story of how this all came down. Your donations will be put to good use. Never did I think I’d be looking for a dresser when I had my grandmother’s dresser that worked perfectly fine.
Here goes: Sunday 8/16, I woke up and 2:30am and didn’t know why. I checked my phone and it said, rain starting in 15 minutes. Nothing forecasted before I went to bed so that was odd. I moved some bins into the house from the deck. It doesn’t rain very much in California but these bins had to be kept dry.
At 2:45am, the strangest winds came ripping through the trees (turns out to be a style of tornado). They were fierce and all over the place, I have these six foot cathedral chimes that always ring like church bells way down in some valley, This time though they were ringing like someone was swinging at them with a hammer.
Branches were cracking all over the place. Nature was giving this forest a haircut. Then the dry lightening started, thousands of blinks of white light. White light that blinks through your closed eyes. Thunder echos in these canyons. The hits were very close. Not fond of thunderstorms, they can be so damn wicked. I put the pillow over my head and started to pray the rosary so they would stop. They did not, They went on for six hours.
The next morning, I saw there was a brown out (ugh). Those of you who know, know it’s better to have the power go totally off. My water pump quit working along with some, but not all lights in the house. I decided to get out of the canyon, took some projects and laptop and went to my cousin’s home for part of the day. Ran across downed, live wires, and a local had chainsawed a path clear on the road. So much debris.
I got to the open part of the canyon road and drove HWY 1 along side of thousands of lightening strikes on the ocean for the 27 mile drive. Came home. Fires caused by lightening strikes showed up in about five spots nearby inland.
On Monday, it increased to 8. It’s concerning, but all the news said no evacuations for my area and the canyon in general. Tuesday, 8/18: still no evacuation warnings, not even any alerts or standby notices. I was thinking I might just go up to Chico and stay with a dear friend while this blows over.
Christine Harper called and asked if I could come over and get some food she picked up in Davenport destined for GreyBears (that’s what they call Senior Citizens). I went over (she’s ½ mile down the canyon). She’s like the mayor of WhiteHouse Canyon, long time local, well respected. She was getting a ton of phone calls and needed to go fix a gate that had been broken, and could cause her cattle to roam to HWY 1.
The Waddell Fire was in full force (so I thought, I really didn’t have a clue what full force was until later that night). She asked me to stay and answer her phones; they were ringing off the hook. People coming to pick up her horse and goats and kittens. People making arrangements to get her equipment out of the canyon. Big stuff, tractors, excavators, portable saw mills. She said that the mill was her saving grace to re-build should the canyon be hit by fire. People called to finalize arrangements. I asked if they could come earlier. By then I decided I was going to go home, do a load of laundry and leave the canyon about midnight.
At 7:30pm, I was packing a few things, sorting a few things, packing to be away for a few days then return.
At 8:30pm, I brought a few boxes to my vehicle. I heard thunder and was pissed off that there was another lightening storm coming. My heart dropped when Iooked up through the very dense canopy and saw blood, bright red sky. I went into panic mode.
Even though I had made a small fire emergency duffel bag (never your favorite underwear or socks), I was dragging the two small bins I had, down the stairs of the deck. Wrassled the cat, a recent acquisition to my life, a 12 year old, 17 pound Maine Coon Cat rescue, who was scared of everything, even my coughing and laughter.
Litter box, bag of cat food, and cat carrier. The back door of the vehicle wouldn’t shut, the car lights kept going off, the deck lights timed out while I was trying to get it the back hatch to shut. I screamed obscenities at the top of my lungs, screaming loud. No one was around to hear. When I thought I had about 5 more minutes, I only had 45 seconds, listening to that voice inside (or mother nature) warning, screaming for me to GET OUT NOW!
Note: it was not thunder, it was all these huge beautiful redwood trees exploding, hundreds of them exploding, like rolling thunder promising a storm, but this time it was a fire storm.
*Note: noone had never received a standby warning, or evacuation warning.
My biggest fear was that I would be driving out this winding, rutted canyon with rock cliffs on one side and drop-offs of 100 feet to the creek below and run into a wall of fire. By the grace of God that did not happen.
I got to the open fields and the Waddell fire had advanced miles very quickly by then and was about 100 yards to my left, burning the fields and coming at me. I rolled down my window and was blasted by the heat. This was one mile from HWY 1 but I knew I was going to get out safely.
I parked with the other residents already out in a small parking lot that led to the beach. I turned to look at the canyon and the whole canyon, four miles in, was a wall of flames from left to right. Propane tanks were blowing up along the ridge. My cabin was built into that ridge. On one side you could put your hand out the window and touch the mountain. The front side was the deck and I was two stories into the canopy.
I was almost the last one out, only Rosanna I know came after me. 1/2 hour after we were all out, we got the reverse 911 call.
The Highway Patrol came up the HWY 1 going 90mph, turning into the canyon, racing up just as fast, along with a CalFire truck and two HWY patrolmen on motorcycles. I was in disbelief and getting nauseous to think they were going into harm's way and have eternal respect for their motto to serve and protect. They were going in to make sure everyone was out. I could not say that I would have gone back.
My friend said that I was now a member of the club of people who lost everything to a wildfire. I wanted you to know the story of how it was for me, how I now know what absolute panic is, one moment packing for a three day trip, the next just tossing anything I can see that I think I will need to survive. Except the whisk broom. How did a whisk broom get into my precious belongings? I am grateful to be alive, I really am. But I lost everything, but they are just things.
I started my drive up the highway, I joined a gathering at the Pescadero intersection up the road, just watching while calling a few friends and family. It was 12:30am by then. I was so much in shock to see 50, 60 trucks with trailers and trailers of animals.
My friend Mary in Homer, Alaska said to just move to Alaska, since I was all packed with everything I own. First smile for a while before and since. They say the big girls are now falling and need bulldozers to try and clear the canyon road. There are boulders falling from the cliff sections, and landslides. It’s all so unstable and I will have to wait a long time before I can go and sift through for anything recognizable, a sight I would watch in sadness after the Paradise and Santa Rosa fires. I was one of the ones furthest back. It is still burning hard, with dense smoke and remarkable heat. My poor bundt pans.
This is ridiculously long but all of it is necessary for you to hear. Thank you for your kindness. I will never know who many of you are and believe that God has made the word "anonymous" with angels gifting me with their grace. The result of this page will help me redefine a new normal. Thank you to everyone.
May God bless you all and hold you close to his heart. I know I do. With my love, Karen Smith.
For those of you who have not read my recount of my day of the fire, here it is:
August 21 9:30pm I think it’s time you heard the story of how this all came down. Your donations will be put to good use. Never did I think I’d be looking for a dresser when I had my grandmother’s dresser that worked perfectly fine.
Here goes: Sunday 8/16, I woke up and 2:30am and didn’t know why. I checked my phone and it said, rain starting in 15 minutes. Nothing forecasted before I went to bed so that was odd. I moved some bins into the house from the deck. It doesn’t rain very much in California but these bins had to be kept dry.
At 2:45am, the strangest winds came ripping through the trees (turns out to be a style of tornado). They were fierce and all over the place, I have these six foot cathedral chimes that always ring like church bells way down in some valley, This time though they were ringing like someone was swinging at them with a hammer.
Branches were cracking all over the place. Nature was giving this forest a haircut. Then the dry lightening started, thousands of blinks of white light. White light that blinks through your closed eyes. Thunder echos in these canyons. The hits were very close. Not fond of thunderstorms, they can be so damn wicked. I put the pillow over my head and started to pray the rosary so they would stop. They did not, They went on for six hours.
The next morning, I saw there was a brown out (ugh). Those of you who know, know it’s better to have the power go totally off. My water pump quit working along with some, but not all lights in the house. I decided to get out of the canyon, took some projects and laptop and went to my cousin’s home for part of the day. Ran across downed, live wires, and a local had chainsawed a path clear on the road. So much debris.
I got to the open part of the canyon road and drove HWY 1 along side of thousands of lightening strikes on the ocean for the 27 mile drive. Came home. Fires caused by lightening strikes showed up in about five spots nearby inland.
On Monday, it increased to 8. It’s concerning, but all the news said no evacuations for my area and the canyon in general. Tuesday, 8/18: still no evacuation warnings, not even any alerts or standby notices. I was thinking I might just go up to Chico and stay with a dear friend while this blows over.
Christine Harper called and asked if I could come over and get some food she picked up in Davenport destined for GreyBears (that’s what they call Senior Citizens). I went over (she’s ½ mile down the canyon). She’s like the mayor of WhiteHouse Canyon, long time local, well respected. She was getting a ton of phone calls and needed to go fix a gate that had been broken, and could cause her cattle to roam to HWY 1.
The Waddell Fire was in full force (so I thought, I really didn’t have a clue what full force was until later that night). She asked me to stay and answer her phones; they were ringing off the hook. People coming to pick up her horse and goats and kittens. People making arrangements to get her equipment out of the canyon. Big stuff, tractors, excavators, portable saw mills. She said that the mill was her saving grace to re-build should the canyon be hit by fire. People called to finalize arrangements. I asked if they could come earlier. By then I decided I was going to go home, do a load of laundry and leave the canyon about midnight.
At 7:30pm, I was packing a few things, sorting a few things, packing to be away for a few days then return.
At 8:30pm, I brought a few boxes to my vehicle. I heard thunder and was pissed off that there was another lightening storm coming. My heart dropped when Iooked up through the very dense canopy and saw blood, bright red sky. I went into panic mode.
Even though I had made a small fire emergency duffel bag (never your favorite underwear or socks), I was dragging the two small bins I had, down the stairs of the deck. Wrassled the cat, a recent acquisition to my life, a 12 year old, 17 pound Maine Coon Cat rescue, who was scared of everything, even my coughing and laughter.
Litter box, bag of cat food, and cat carrier. The back door of the vehicle wouldn’t shut, the car lights kept going off, the deck lights timed out while I was trying to get it the back hatch to shut. I screamed obscenities at the top of my lungs, screaming loud. No one was around to hear. When I thought I had about 5 more minutes, I only had 45 seconds, listening to that voice inside (or mother nature) warning, screaming for me to GET OUT NOW!
Note: it was not thunder, it was all these huge beautiful redwood trees exploding, hundreds of them exploding, like rolling thunder promising a storm, but this time it was a fire storm.
*Note: noone had never received a standby warning, or evacuation warning.
My biggest fear was that I would be driving out this winding, rutted canyon with rock cliffs on one side and drop-offs of 100 feet to the creek below and run into a wall of fire. By the grace of God that did not happen.
I got to the open fields and the Waddell fire had advanced miles very quickly by then and was about 100 yards to my left, burning the fields and coming at me. I rolled down my window and was blasted by the heat. This was one mile from HWY 1 but I knew I was going to get out safely.
I parked with the other residents already out in a small parking lot that led to the beach. I turned to look at the canyon and the whole canyon, four miles in, was a wall of flames from left to right. Propane tanks were blowing up along the ridge. My cabin was built into that ridge. On one side you could put your hand out the window and touch the mountain. The front side was the deck and I was two stories into the canopy.
I was almost the last one out, only Rosanna I know came after me. 1/2 hour after we were all out, we got the reverse 911 call.
The Highway Patrol came up the HWY 1 going 90mph, turning into the canyon, racing up just as fast, along with a CalFire truck and two HWY patrolmen on motorcycles. I was in disbelief and getting nauseous to think they were going into harm's way and have eternal respect for their motto to serve and protect. They were going in to make sure everyone was out. I could not say that I would have gone back.
My friend said that I was now a member of the club of people who lost everything to a wildfire. I wanted you to know the story of how it was for me, how I now know what absolute panic is, one moment packing for a three day trip, the next just tossing anything I can see that I think I will need to survive. Except the whisk broom. How did a whisk broom get into my precious belongings? I am grateful to be alive, I really am. But I lost everything, but they are just things.
I started my drive up the highway, I joined a gathering at the Pescadero intersection up the road, just watching while calling a few friends and family. It was 12:30am by then. I was so much in shock to see 50, 60 trucks with trailers and trailers of animals.
My friend Mary in Homer, Alaska said to just move to Alaska, since I was all packed with everything I own. First smile for a while before and since. They say the big girls are now falling and need bulldozers to try and clear the canyon road. There are boulders falling from the cliff sections, and landslides. It’s all so unstable and I will have to wait a long time before I can go and sift through for anything recognizable, a sight I would watch in sadness after the Paradise and Santa Rosa fires. I was one of the ones furthest back. It is still burning hard, with dense smoke and remarkable heat. My poor bundt pans.
This is ridiculously long but all of it is necessary for you to hear. Thank you for your kindness. I will never know who many of you are and believe that God has made the word "anonymous" with angels gifting me with their grace. The result of this page will help me redefine a new normal. Thank you to everyone.
May God bless you all and hold you close to his heart. I know I do. With my love, Karen Smith.
Organizer
Karen Smith
Organizer
Pescadero, CA
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