Last Monday morning, October 22nd, 910,000 people in San Diego County received a “reverse 911 call”-mandating families to evacuate their homes. In the next 72 hours, 400,000 acres would burn in eight separate fires. At 5am that morning, I was in the center of that firestorm visiting a Marine family. Dad had reported at 5am to his unit at Camp Pendleton. He awaited orders to return home to be with his wife and child. At 6am, I was carrying cases of water and packing the SUV with the “essentials.” I loaded the trunk with baby food, diapers, flashlights, batteries, a few wedding photos, the baby and the family dog.Despite the imminent danger, this Marine spouse would not leave her apartment complex without her best friend; She ran upstairs and pounded on the door until her girlfriend awoke. She was told you got five minutes to pack and we got to go. In less than three, her groggy friend piled the truck with more clothes, more wedding pictures and her family dog. We then hit the road with two Marine wives, a 7-month-old baby, two dogs and the chaplain holding a shivering old dog on his lap who was wetting my jeans—most likely nerves.
Traffic was bumper to bumper on Route 5 heading away from the fires. As we inched our way to safety, the sky literally changed before our eyes into a yellow haze of thick smoke and ash. This was called the Witch Fire that started in a canyon that the local Native Americans referred to as “bewitched.” The fierce Santa Ana winds were gusting over 60 miles per hour and making this monster firestorm impossible to contain.
I was having memories of driving into downtown Manhattan the day after 9/11. I still have images of that sickening haze of yellow and grey that filled the sky in which you could not see the skyscrapers. As we drove, we could no longer see the mountains nor homes from the side of the road. We could only smell the smoke and literally see the ash fall on our windshield.
Evacuation centers were being set up all over the county including Qualcomm Stadium, where the San Diego Chargers football team plays. This site would become a portal of safety for some 10,000 evacuees. The people of San Diego were at their best donating blankets, sandwiches, sunscreen, Q-tips, toothpaste and dog food. Another 20,000 volunteers came to handout food and offer support.
Firefighters don’t get in front of these monster fires for they know they cannot be stopped. Only four years ago, San Diego battled the Cedar Fire, which was the largest fire in the state’s history. This Firestorm of 2007 would lead to the largest evacuation some 900,000 people in American history and result in the destruction of over 2,000 homes and businesses.
One never knows where God wants us to serve. We need simply to be open to the present moment and allow the Spirit of compassion to direct our actions. Our efforts might reflect the heroism of those 13,000 firefighters, or the generosity of the thousands of donors and volunteers who came to the shelters to offer comfort, or a lap to hold a frighten dog. I continue to serve as a consultant and mentor to the critical incident counselors who are being deployed today into local schools and businesses.
The Lord prays for us as we reflect: "I will build a house for you. Therefore your servant now finds the courage to make this prayer to you.” (2 Samuel 7:27).
Lord, I pray for the thousands of firefighters who risked their lives to protect families from the firestorm. Bless the volunteers who fed, sheltered and comforted many wounded souls and watered all your creatures great and small. Note, my Marine families did not lose their homes to the fire. They invited other Marine families whose homes were damaged to stay at their homes for safety. I learned last evening that these same Marines were informed on Friday that they are being deployed to Iraq in January 2008.
