The Fire

December 4, 2019 Two years have passed since the Thomas Fire burned through my area. I wrote this story last year, on the one year…

December 4, 2019
Two years have passed since the Thomas Fire burned through my area. I wrote this story last year, on the first anniversary of the fire’s beginning. Many here in and around our valley are still in recovery mode, friends still bouncing from location to location trying to find a place to land, and other friends living on their land in trailers waiting for building to begin. We are forever changed as a community in both beautiful and devastating ways. I recently spoke with a friend, and she and I agreed that this year’s anniversary seems worse than last, our fears being activated even more by the recent fires that have burned near our area and the huge fires that were burning up north. Perhaps it is also being magnified by all that is happening in the collective and the massive uncertainty we all are living under.

December 4, 2018
At 6:26 pm Pacific time just a year ago today, a brush fire was first reported near Steckel Park in between the towns of Santa Paula and the Upper Ojai Valley. About 30 minutes later and 4 miles away another fire broke out at the top of Koenigstein Road, directly in the middle of the Upper Ojai Valley. These 2 fires would move quickly toward one another to merge into what would become The Thomas Fire. When it was finished burning, it was the then largest recorded wildfire in California’s history, at 281,893 acres. Six months later it was surpassed by the Ranch Fire which burned 410,203 acres.

December 4, 2017 
Jon was planning on taking the girls, Zoey and Sookie, on a hike the next morning so they would be good and worn out during our monthly transmission that was scheduled for later that evening. I jumped on my computer at 7:30pm Pacific time to check the exact start of a trailhead located at Steckel Park. Jon had never been there before but had just heard about a trail that sounded wonderful. Blissfully unaware my eyes/mind/heart soon began to take in the very sketchy and incomplete pieces of information that were floating around on Facebook, Twitter, and the Ventura County emergency website.

“You’re not going to be hiking there tomorrow,” I called out to Jon, “a fire just broke out.”
“Where?” asked Jon
“Right there” — Me

I sat glued to my chair, staring at my screen, scanning for more info as gentle, yet persistent waves of fear moved through my body. The fire was a good 15 miles from us. My mental body did the math and thought, “No way is that fire coming anywhere near us.” My emotional, physical, and energetic bodies, however, were telling me the opposite. I pulled cards on whether or not we’d need to evacuate. I got a solid “yes”.
“No!” my mental body yelled at the rest of me.
The Pleiadians suggested I go pack for at least 3 nights.
Jon started removing his hard drives from his computer while I grabbed a thumb drive and started transferring all of my channeled transmissions, writings, and any photos I had off of my computer.
My mind still was in complete denial, making fun of what my body was automatically doing.

The winds were fierce. Fierce. Gusts of 80 miles an hour took the fire 12 miles south in 4 hours right into the heart of Ventura destroying everything in its path.

I posted as much information as I could on my Facebook and Twitter feeds for those in the fire’s path.

7:51pm — “ To all of my friends in the Upper Ojai Valley and Santa Paula I wish you safety tonight. Major wind-driven fast-moving wildfire just broke out. Evacuations underway. Holding love for all affected.”
8:02pm — “500 acres. 0 containment. Santa Ana winds tonight.”

8:09pm — “Okay — Winds — steady please”
8:15 pm -”1500 acres. Highway 150 hard closure at this time”
8:21pm — “2500 acres now. Wind gusts of 50–70 mph predicted tonight.”
8:39pm — “I’m in the process of putting everything important that’s on my hard drive onto a thumb drive. Then we’ll pack a bag. We’re not going anywhere yet. I think it’s unlikely we’ll have to evacuate.”
9:13pm — “Listening to the live feed from Ventura County Fire — expanding mandatory evacuations now.
10:55pm “Power is out. Internet was down and just came back. We’re in for a long night.”
10:59pm — “Thomas fire exploded to 10,000 acres and will impact East Ventura by 1am according to Ventura County Fire Department.”

It was then that I called my sister. She lived in Ventura.
“You’ve got a fire coming your way,” I told her as calmly as possible.
She opened her door to mayhem. She could see the flames just blocks away as neighbors were running to their cars their belongings in hand. She’d gotten no warning or alert on her phone, very few had at this point. Her car was trapped in her garage, no power to open the automatic door, she threw some things in a bag and bugged out with her neighbors.

I walked my block, knocking on all of my neighbors' doors, making sure everyone knew what was happening just a few miles from our homes. Not everyone did.

I called a friend on the east end of the Ojai Valley. She was about ready to leave, the flames were visible from her house.
“Call everyone you know,” she said, as she hung up the phone preparing to evacuate.

December 5, 2017
Jon and I were each on a couch, each with a dog snuggled beside us, The Smurf secured in the house, listening to the scanner and getting info from Facebook on my phone as the hills exploded into fire, as the wind gusted to 80 mph, as the fire advanced at an acre a second, as house after house burned, and the landscape was transformed into a charred and blackened desert. The speed of the destruction of the first night is still difficult to process.

We slept not more than 2 hours that night, each on our respective couches, Zoey and Sookie beside us. Jon dragged the suitcases out of the garage and at some point, we packed. How does one pack, knowing whatever you take may be all that you have left? I have no clue. I tried not to think about it that way. I just grabbed what I would need for “at least 3 nights”, as my guidance told me, and thought primarily about my comfort and practicality.

12:06am — “Internet is spotty, winds are crazy, I’m snuggled up with Zoey, Sookie, The Smurf, and Jon.”
12:38am — “Fire is headed into Ventura. The palm trees behind Ventura City Hall are on fire, many homes threatened.”
12:48am — “Sections of Ventura are now on fire. We are safe and sheltering in place. 2 of our roads out of the valley are closed now.”

1:48am — “Worst packing job ever. Really hoping to be able to stay home.”

At 4:44am my friend at the end of the block texted me that she and her family were leaving. I knew for certain then that we’d be going.

5:20am — “Fire is at 31,000 acres. 150 structures lost at this point. Winds are up again. Car is packed. We are ready to go if need be.”

It was then that we put the girls in the car and took a drive. The fire was moving fast in 2 directions at that point, south into Ventura and west towards Ojai. From our home, all we saw was smoke to the southeast. We stopped in at the high school, the valley’s designated shelter. It was already filling with people who had evacuated from the Upper Ojai Valley. The fire advanced quickly there and many homes had burned. I chatted briefly with a firefighter there who said that my neighborhood was very safe at the moment.

We decided to take a look for ourselves and drove east, through town. We could see the fire clearly on the hillsides to the east and south of us. I barely looked, not wanting to give the fire more life by connecting with it fully.

We would be gone a few hours later, after hedging and debating, after leaving and returning twice, once due to bumper-to-bumper traffic on the 150 North, the second time due to my nervousness at driving high elevations in the wind we were experiencing on the 33 North. By the next afternoon, long after our departure, both of those highways would be closed as the fire swallowed hillsides whole and ringed our entire valley.

At 3pm that Tuesday afternoon I read on Facebook that they were considering closing and relocating the evacuation center at our high school down to Santa Barbara. Our high school sits less than a mile from our home. It was the final nudge I needed out the door. It turns out that was just a rumor (or perhaps it truly was being discussed, I don’t really know), but it was the final message in a long stream of messages I received, patiently and insistingly telling us to go.

Morning of December 5, 2017, in front of our house

Morning of December 5, 2017, in front of our house

4:23pm - "We've evacuated to Santa Barbara and need pet-friendly lodging. Willing to accept all help here"

We were at the Earl Warren’s Showgrounds in Santa Barbara. It was the shelter accepting people with animals. Jon took Zoey and Sookie for a walk and I took The Smurf with me into the bathroom and pleaded with her to pee on the floor. She’d not used her litter box in almost a full day, she much prefers the great outdoors, and I was concerned for her health. She refused, so I put her back in her carrier, got back in the car with Jon and the girls, and used Facebook and my phone to try to find a place to stay. All pet-friendly hotels in Santa Barbara were booked and we were cold and exhausted at this point.

At 5:10pm I was tagged in a post by my friend Merry which drew my attention to my friend Jaya’s post. She and Bob had found a pet-friendly place to stay in Buellton and had left me a phone number. It was 45 minutes north of where we were at that point. I started driving again as we grabbed a room. Bob and Jaya lost their home, the fire rendering it unlivable.

“I hope The Smurf uses the bathtub to go pee,” I said to Jon as we were pulling into the parking lot. I had brought no litter box or litter for her.
It was the first thing she did, after exiting her carrier in the hotel room. I felt a huge weight lift off of me, knowing she was okay (she’d almost left her body just 4 months prior), and that she’d taken my suggestion.

Me and Zoey, finally resting after being awake for almost 2 days straight

9:35pm — “I’m sitting here far from the smoke and fire now, finally letting myself access the intensity of what is transpiring. My dear friends’ homes burned to the ground, the wildlife suffering in the heat and smoke, the visceral sensation of that red sky encroaching and surrounding, the fear activating. I drove the Casitas Pass this afternoon, holding myself like a rod, facing my fears of heights and fire, past life trauma rippling through my body. I sit here now in ridiculous contrast in the Quality Inn weeping as I feel it all.”

It was reading that my friend Ali Sun Trees had lost her home and all of her original artwork and paintings that offered me the opportunity to first express my grief. Their house was located at Meditation Mount on a hilltop at the east end of the Ojai Valley. One of our most treasured gifts, Meditation Mount remains closed at this time due to damage to the grounds and some of the buildings.

For the next 4 days, we stayed in Buellton, 90 miles from home, reading and watching as more friends lost their homes and as our entire town came close to burning down.

December 6, 2017
7:44pm — “Tonight the winds will tell tomorrow’s tale in the Ojai Valley and all other areas affected by fire. Dear Sylphs, we ask that you calm. Your dance with the Salamanders is glorious and yet so destructive. Undines — we need your watery grace. Gnomes, we feel you.”
8:32pm — “My Ojai friends — Gridley Rd is being evacuated. Hermitage Ranch is burning. No containment and talk of Foothill evacuating as well. Time to leave. The 150 is closed in both directions. Hwy 33 is your only out. I love you.”
9:04pm — “My neighborhood was just issued a mandatory evacuation by the Sheriff’s Department. Meiners Oaks friends, get out now. I love you. Oh my sweet Ojai home, I love you.”

It was very hard to sleep that night, exhausted as we were. I awoke every hour or so to see if there was any news of my neighborhood. The information being posted on Facebook at this time was very emotional and often incorrect.

December 7, 2017

On the morning of December 7th, Jon grabbed his phone as soon as he opened his eyes. He handed it to me with a shocked look on his face. The image was a map with an overlay that showed that most of our neighborhood had burned down. I jumped on Facebook and read that Meiners Oaks as well as all of downtown Ojai, Oak View, Mira Monte, and Casitas Springs had been saved. The extreme winds that had been predicted for the night prior never materialized. Those incredible beings fighting the fire had managed to keep it at bay. The geothermal mapping image that Jon had been looking at was inaccurate.

7:42am — “ From what I can gather, my neighborhood is still standing along with Ojai, and most of the other neighborhoods. The fire is raging in the mountains, hillsides, and river bottom, but most homes in the more densely populated areas live to see the sunlight again. There were many homes lost in the canyons, outlying areas, north on the 33, and in the upper valley. My heart breaks for these losses.”
7:56 am — “To those brave beings who douse flames and save lives, you have my eternal gratitude.”
10:15am — “The winds stayed down. The fire stayed out of the more populated areas of the valley. Thank you, all who worked with the elemental energies. To my friends and all of you who live in the outlying areas whose homes are gone — I love you and feel so much sadness for your losses.”

“Truly a Miracle” Ojai survived a night of intense fire, city official says — L.A. Times Article

Images From The Fire — L.A. Times Article

We happened upon an excellent dog park just a few blocks from where we were staying which was faerie sent for our sweet Sookie who, at 8 months old, was still very much a puppy at that time. There were so many gifts and connections and love shared during our evacuation. The hotel had become a refugee center, booked completely with evacuees.

Zoey, The Smurf, and Sookie - Evacuating Breeds Togetherness

December 9, 2017 
2:03pm — “We are home, safe, and extremely grateful. Looks like, even if the winds come up again tonight and tomorrow as predicted, we are in the clear here now in the Ojai Valley. The air quality is much better than I was expecting. Jon talked with the sylphs again this morning. I asked for faerie assistance with the clean-up before our return. Not a speck of ash and barely the smell of the fire are present in our house. Outdoors there is a light dusting of ash on everything. Jon also had the foresight to turn on the air purifier right before we evacuated, so it’s been running this whole time.
Thank you again, to all of you who sent your love and support. You and your love mean the Universe to me.”

There is so much more. The fire burned a complete ring around the Ojai Valley and then continued mostly unchecked for weeks to come. One month later the deadly mudslides in Montecito occurred.

December 4, 2018
There are high wind warnings in my area today. We’ve had some rain already this season, last year we were still extremely dry. I am moving slowly today with the heaviness of last year’s events upon me. There is a stillness in the air, even with the winds, as the valley remembers. There are many still in temporary homes, floating from place to place, no one I know of has rebuilt anything. And yet there is much new life on the hillsides and the mountains, as green returns to that which was blackened.

From the Fire — Ojai Reflects on the Thomas Fire is an absolutely beautiful and emotional collection of stories, interviews, poetry, photographs, and artworks created by the Ojai community in response to the Thomas Fire. 
Elizabeth Rose and Deva Temple were called to collaborate on this project. All net proceeds from sales of the book will go to fire victims via the Greater Goods Disaster Relief Fund.

New Life Emerging