Karen Smith's Cabin Fire Fund
Donation protected
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 that worked perfectly. 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 from the deck. It doesn’t rain very much in California but these had to be kept dry. At 2:45am, the strangest winds came ripping through the trees (turns out to be a style of tornadoes). They were fierce and all over the place, I have these six foot cathedral chimes that always ring like church bell 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 is giving a haircut. Then the dry lightening started, thousands of blinks of white light. 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 didn’t work along with some, but not all lights in the house. I decided to get out of the canyon, took some projects and laptops and went to my cousin’s home for part of the day. Ran across downed, live wires, and a local had chainsawed a path 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.
Lightening strike fires in about five spots 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 alerts/standby. I was thinking I might just to 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 was broken. Her cattle could have headed 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 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 laundery and leave the canyon about midnight. At 7:30pm, I was packing a few things, sorting a few things, packing as if I was returning. 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. Then my heart dropped as I looked up at the dense canopy and the sky was blood red. I went into panic mode. Even though I had made a small fire emergency duffel bag (never your favorite underwear or socks), I was draggin the few bins I had down the stairs of the deck. Wrassled the cat, a recent acquisition to my life, a 17 pound Maine Coon Cat scared of even my coughing. 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 to shut. I screamed obscenities because noone 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 me to GET OUT NOW!
Note: it was not thunder, it was all these huge beautiful redwood trees exploding, 100’s of them exploding, like a rolling thunder promising a storm, but this time it was a fire storm.
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 by then and was about 100 yards to my right, 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. I parked with the other residents already out and turned to look at the canyon and the whole canyon, four miles in was a wall of flames. Propane tanks were blowing up everywhere along the ridge. My cabin was built into the ride. One side you could put your hand out the window and touch the mountain. The other 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. The Highway Patrol came up the road going 90mph, turning into the canyon, racing 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 harms 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. When I joined the gathering at the Pescadero intersection up the road, 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 consider coming to Alaska, 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 go and sift through for anything recognizable, a sight I would watch in sadness after the Paradise and Santa Rosa fires.
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 real live beloved angels gifting me with their grace. The result of this page will help me redefine a new normal. Thank you all and also to my colleague, Paul Szponer. May God bless you all and hold you close to his heart. I know I do. With my love, Karen Smith.
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 that worked perfectly. 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 from the deck. It doesn’t rain very much in California but these had to be kept dry. At 2:45am, the strangest winds came ripping through the trees (turns out to be a style of tornadoes). They were fierce and all over the place, I have these six foot cathedral chimes that always ring like church bell 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 is giving a haircut. Then the dry lightening started, thousands of blinks of white light. 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 didn’t work along with some, but not all lights in the house. I decided to get out of the canyon, took some projects and laptops and went to my cousin’s home for part of the day. Ran across downed, live wires, and a local had chainsawed a path 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.
Lightening strike fires in about five spots 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 alerts/standby. I was thinking I might just to 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 was broken. Her cattle could have headed 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 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 laundery and leave the canyon about midnight. At 7:30pm, I was packing a few things, sorting a few things, packing as if I was returning. 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. Then my heart dropped as I looked up at the dense canopy and the sky was blood red. I went into panic mode. Even though I had made a small fire emergency duffel bag (never your favorite underwear or socks), I was draggin the few bins I had down the stairs of the deck. Wrassled the cat, a recent acquisition to my life, a 17 pound Maine Coon Cat scared of even my coughing. 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 to shut. I screamed obscenities because noone 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 me to GET OUT NOW!
Note: it was not thunder, it was all these huge beautiful redwood trees exploding, 100’s of them exploding, like a rolling thunder promising a storm, but this time it was a fire storm.
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 by then and was about 100 yards to my right, 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. I parked with the other residents already out and turned to look at the canyon and the whole canyon, four miles in was a wall of flames. Propane tanks were blowing up everywhere along the ridge. My cabin was built into the ride. One side you could put your hand out the window and touch the mountain. The other 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. The Highway Patrol came up the road going 90mph, turning into the canyon, racing 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 harms 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. When I joined the gathering at the Pescadero intersection up the road, 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 consider coming to Alaska, 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 go and sift through for anything recognizable, a sight I would watch in sadness after the Paradise and Santa Rosa fires.
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 real live beloved angels gifting me with their grace. The result of this page will help me redefine a new normal. Thank you all and also to my colleague, Paul Szponer. May God bless you all and hold you close to his heart. I know I do. With my love, Karen Smith.
Organizer
Foothill College Library
Organizer
San Jose, CA
