The Daily Grist: “I’d rather fight a hundred structure fires than a wildfire. With a structure fire you know where your flames are, but in the woods it can move anywhere: it can come right up behind you.” Tom Watson
I am really looking forward to going to work this morning. But I’ll be the first to admit that on most Monday mornings that is not the case. This has been a crazy week here in Sonoma County and the events of the week have taught even an angst-ridden soon to be retiree like me what our blessings truly are.
Only a few days ago I had my trailer hitched and ready to roll out with as many important possessions as I could think of. My wife had already departed with our most critical documents and other belongings.
If the house catch on fire and there ain’t no water ‘round
If the house catch fire and there ain’t no water ‘round
Throw this old guitar out the window.
Let it burn right to the ground.
When fire threatened Geyserville, only six miles away, I was especially worried. I worried that the fire might jump the Russian River and highway 101 with the strong winds predicted for early Saturday morning.
Fire on the mountain, run boys run.
A week ago I woke to what I though would be another routine Monday. Drink your coffee and go to work. We keep our windows open at night this time of year for the cooling breeze and i noticed that the air was unusually smoky. I even checked the area around our house during the middle of the night to make sure nothing was on fire.
After breakfast, I got in my car as usual and headed south on highway 101. It soon became apparent that I was not going to be able to get to work. The highway was closed, as my car radio informed me, so I headed back home, worrying about the firestorm that had been in my projected path.
By Tuesday the highway had been reopened and I was more informed about the state of affairs. A firestorm had raced right into the city limits of Santa Rosa, where I work. The Tubbs fire, fueled by howling winds, had descended during the middle of the night, covering a dozen miles in only four hours. Two of three Santa Rosa hospitals were evacuated and peaceful neighborhoods were incinerated. You know the details by now.
Life is so sweet here in Sonoma County. That’s why I moved here in the first place. In my wildest dreams I never imagined such a thing.
Page back to the first paragraph. I’m usually not looking forward to going to work on a Monday morning. But I was looking forward to a couple of bluegrass jams later in the week. Thursday was to be my day off and I had lined up a great jam in Cloverdale with a few good friends. Saturday was to be maybe better with an even bigger group in San Francisco.
A week of sorrow for your county changes all those aspirations of the usual good life in the place you love to live. Ten percent of our population has been displaced. Highway 101 was reopened by Tuesday and I made it into work only to find that some people who work in my clinic had lost their homes. A doctor whose desk is right next to mine showed me a photo of what her house in Santa Rosa looks like now. You can see a chimney but that’s about it. I have to admire Ellen for showing up to work one day after such a personal tragedy.
I’ve not been to work since that Tuesday. The clinic shut down at noon due to smoke. Too bad, we were running a special on asthma. We handed out as many filter masks as we could for patients and their families and I noticed when I used mine, I could appreciate the difference in air quality after you took it off, which you eventually had to because of the discomfort. By this time the air quality was rated as equal to that of Beijing on an average day. (A UC Berkeley web site tracks it in real time.)
We live in the country between Healdsburg and Geyserville. Fortunately both of those towns have been unscathed so far but parts of both were under evacuation orders or warnings. Our house sits near a small municipal airport. Not much is going on there usually, just a few private planes touching down occasionally. It was impressive and reassuring to see a fleet of Chinook helicopters swoop down on Wednesday afternoon, soon followed by a convoy of support trailers and tanker trucks. Since then we have seen a lot of action in the air with helicopters taking their empty buckets north to Lake Sonoma for another refill.
For me, part of the good life here in Sonoma County is riding my bike through the lovely countryside. I do that pretty much every day that I have off. Last year, October was a pretty lean month for me on the bicycle because of all the rain. I only wish we could have some of that now.
God Gave Noah the rainbow sign
Won’t be the water, be the fire next time.
I can’t tell you how many messages I have received during the past week with the final line “Stay Safe”. I am so tired of hearing that phrase. I’m so sad for the people and families who couldn’t be safe because of the fire’s raging intensity and lost their lives as a result. The property loss is trivial by comparison but still devastating as well. California has never seen such a fire.
The firefighters stationed at the airport next door to us are a dedicated bunch of people. I like to think they fly those helicopters a little better after Joyce’s home made smoothies. And people all around the county are pitching in to help us get through this.
Stay safe is fine advice but I look forward to when we can just play music again. Lodi is coming up this weekend. I look forward to that. And it sure will be nice to go back to work tomorrow.
