Burned into the memory forever
GEOFF WEST
Sensory overload. That’s what I’ve been experiencing for the past 10
days. As an avid channel hopper and news junkie, I should have been
having a great old time. Almost every channel was providing
wall-to-wall coverage of the horrendous fires, which have affected
every Southern California county except ours.
The coverage has been mesmerizing, as I watched each news outlet
jump from fire to fire with their coverage -- each attempting to give
us more information that we can possibly use. I should have been
euphoric, but I wasn’t. It’s been like sitting on the front porch of
Hades, watching everything around you burn. I planned my day around
the television and radio coverage and skipped from channel to
channel, hoping to see something new. I hoped to see and hear tales
of success, but most of what I saw was just the opposite.
I watched Channel 4’s Chuck Henry as he tearfully recounted the
story of how he and his cameraman were almost killed when they
delayed too long leaving a danger area. All his smugness I had
observed earlier when he sparred with law enforcement officers as
they told him to cut off his broadcast and leave another danger zone
was long gone. There’s nothing like a near-death experience to change
your attitude. They lost their news van, which was reduced to a
smoldering hulk. I then watched Channel 2’s Rick Chambers give us his
version of the event, which he caught on tape. The scenario was
different, but the result was the same -- one incinerated news van
and a couple very frightened news people.
I watched as a friend’s home in Stevenson Ranch was threatened
Tuesday evening. It survived the night, only to be threatened once
again the next morning by shifting winds. This double close call
ended well, though, as heroic firefighters saved the day.
I watched brave firefighters along Route 18, near Lake Arrowhead,
all day Tuesday using strategically placed backfires to head off the
flames. The Santa Ana winds helped them by forcing the fire back on
itself. Unfortunately, Wednesday morning, the winds shifted, bringing
cooler onshore winds. These should have helped all the firefighters,
but it was disastrous for the Arrowhead crews.
Late in the week, many more homes in the area were lost, but
Arrowhead Village, Running Springs and Big Bear appear to have been
spared -- for the moment. So broad is the reach of these fires that
the city of Hesperia, an early site of evacuation centers, is now
being threatened.
I watched the coverage of the San Diego fires -- the worst in this
state’s history -- and was very saddened to hear of the demise of a
firefighter as he and his crew tried to defend Julian.
Throughout all of this I’ve learned some new definitions for a few
old, familiar words. The nearly 12,000 fire fighters struggling to
defend lives and property, working around the clock with virtually no
sleep for days at a time, have re-defined bravery. There is no way
one can overstate the contribution these men and women make to our
civilization and no adequate way to say thank you.
I also learned a new definition of stupidity. That word applies,
in spades, to those misguided fools who chose to refuse to leave
their houses when ordered to evacuate. Tragically, some of these
people lost their lives in the most horrible of ways. Others have,
through their stubbornness, caused firefighters to shift their focus
from fighting the fires around them to trying to protect these
foolhardy individuals.
As I watched this coverage, I found myself feeling the full range
of emotions. I have friends with homes in several of the threatened
locations and feel tremendous sadness for them and their potential
loss. I, of course, feel sadness for the lives which have been lost
-- 20 as I type this -- and for the families left behind. I also feel
tremendous anger at those individuals who purportedly started at
least a couple of these fires, and hope that they will be identified
and punished to the fullest extent of the law. Burning at the stake
seems appropriate. A similar fate would be in order for the hunter
who started the deadly Cedar fire in San Diego when he lighted a
signal fire because he was lost.
The numbers which make up the nomenclature of these events have
long left the realm of understanding.
How does one come to grips with the fact that we are measuring the
damage not in acres, but in the hundreds of square miles?
How do we comprehend that an area greater in size than the state
of Rhode Island has been reduced to ash and smoldering tree stumps?
How can we possibly grasp the impact of more than 100,000 people
forced from their homes, and the fact that more than 2,100 homes have
already been destroyed?
How will our new governor cope with the damage that is already
being tallied in the billions of dollars -- with no end in sight?
How do we begin to understand the scope of the damage when, as was
reported on one media outlet, there is -- short of divine
intervention -- a good chance that the San Diego fires might burn
uninterrupted to the Arizona border?
How do you explain to the children that much of this devastation
was caused intentionally by men apparently looking for a thrill?
How do we contemplate the fact that those children will be
grandparents before they have a chance to know the beauty of the
pine-covered mountains around Arrowhead, Big Bear and Julian?
When we think of the loss from these fires we think in terms of
human loss -- lives and property. In a community that rallies to
protect a part-time resident burrowing owl in Fairview Park, how do
we contemplate the loss of wildlife and habitat in over 1,000 square
miles of fire area? What lessons can we draw from this tragedy? One
might be that, despite the bravery and skill shown by the
firefighters and the remarkable technology and equipment available to
them, a simple shift in the wind can quickly undo all their efforts.
Mother Nature works in strange ways.
Another might be that, even though some of the fires were caused
by the stupidity and maliciousness of a few people, this kind of
tragedy has once again shown us the true character of the people of
this region.
Story after story has emerged about neighbors helping neighbors,
bravery in the face of unbelievable peril and the generosity of
strangers. These are the memories we should retain from the last two
weeks of October 2003.
* EDITOR’S NOTE: Geoff West is a Costa Mesa resident.
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