Monday, June 30, 2008

The View From Across the Bay

This photo was taken on Friday, June 20, from West Cliff Drive in Santa Cruz.

From-West-cliff-785246

On the Hot Ground

(from 6/26/08)


We're at a hotel, my sister & I & the kids. One step at a time.
All the kitties came back, walking across the embers to find us. Two have gone to the animal shelters, one went home with a family friend. All have burned paws and whiskers, one needs to be treated for smoke inhalation, so we're trying to get emergency vet care for all (I think it's taken care of at this point but I must check again - one more thing for my list.) The ground was still so hot on Monday that the soles of one friend's shoes melted and broke off.

So many friends are showing up every day to help dig out. There have been so many deliveries of food, drinks, clothing, almost more than we can handle. It would seem like quite a party under normal circumstances. Utility, phone, and fire vehicles are still up and down the roads, no power as yet but they're stringing all new wires and having trees cut.

Brother Russell has been camping on the land every night to keep away looters. I'm always shocked to hear that such lowlifes exist but they do and have even stolen parts off of burned cars on the street. F%&#@($(#)!!!! Thanks, Russ. And on his behalf, we've had a port-a-pot delivered. He hasn't showered or shaved in days and doesn't see the point, given the fact that he's up to his neck in ashes all day. My hero. He's had a backhoe delivered by his company, at our disposal for as long as we need it.

Brother Bruce is the press spokesman and de-construction coordinator. He's a contractor, and his network of incredibly loyal friends has been there every day, sifting through the dust, sorting scrap, hauling away debris and burned cars.

Mom is still in So.Cal staying with her sister and dealing with all the legal and insurance issues. At first she was insisting that she come home within a few days but has finally realized (through much pleading from all) that there's just no place for her to go. Normally when a natural disaster strikes, one can usually crash with family. This time, we're all in the same situation.

If you knew our family, you'd understand that it's not just houses we've lost, it's a way of life, really. It's unusual in this country for so many family members to live on the same land but it was somehow working for us. We had family dinners, work days, and each of us took care of little things around the property as much as we could. Yes, we got tired of each other, annoyed, but we always had each other's backs. We are also a family of collectors. My parents were antique dealers, so we grew up appreciating the craftsmanship of antique tables, good upholstery, 19th century porcelain plates hung on the walls in my mother's kitchen, antique dolls in cases. Some of the things were passed down, some collected, but every item was somehow important. Bruce and I have carried on the tradition, becoming pickers and dealers. He's a musician, so he had early guitars and the now famous LP collection, plus his stash of estate jewelry and other treasures for his flea markets. Russell was a collector of coins and militaria (plus quite a stash of guns and ammo that apparently gave the firemen pause.) Luckily for me I deal mostly in textiles and had a store in which to keep them, but I did lose some antique books and a few gorgeous clothing items I'd collected (all my vintage sweaters!) So the amazing friends sifting through the rubble have begun to joke about selling our dust, "A treasure in every scoop!"

Stuff - In Memoriam - Thanks, George

(from 6/24/08)

Thank you so much for all your offers. At the moment we are unable to take anything at all. I'll let you know when we have any place to put things. I just canceled our utilities and phone, and am remembering little worrisome details. Did we lose any Netflix dvds? Did I remember to return the lemon juicer I'd borrowed? Had the book we ordered been delivered to our front step or is it still on its way? Is there still a mailbox and if so, are they still delivering mail?

In the last few days, especially on the long drive home, I've been taking a mental inventory of every drawer, shelf, closet, remembering what was where, wondering if I've forgotten anything. I'd just bought an amazingly cute vintage formica kitchen table, and on it were my checkbooks, address book, brochures for summer camps, a bowl of potatoes. The top shelf of my bookcase had first edition Alice & Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, a few shelves of my favorite lit fic, next was reference, the bottom was all art books and my writing (no backups, of course) on the edges were stacks of envelopes of photos, my girls scout pin collection, up on the top, a secret wooden box shaped like an apple that held Laurel's baby teeth. Her notes to the tooth fairy were in a folder on a shelf across the room, along with my favorites of her artwork. I've done this same imaginary inventory all over the house, going through each place and thing, saying goodbye. I've done the same all over my mother's house, and there each thing is associated with a story or memory either experienced by me or told to me by my mother. Laurel is doing the same, remembering Pokemon cards, American Girl dolls, glass figurines, stuffed animals, her school backpack.Generations of memories, and so much stuff.

Which brings us to George Carlin, some comic relief, and another goodbye:


Back to a New Reality

(from 6/24/08)


When we arrived, friends had set up a campsite for us - Laurel and me, my sister and 2 of her kids. Tents, sleeping bags, pads, warm clothing, hot food, a campfire, and the arms of loved ones. We'd had offers of couches to sleep on, but I felt we needed to stay together, my sister and I, to at least have that much. We are so lucky to be surrounded by so many caring and resourceful people.

Yesterday I left Laurel with friends. She needed to have a normal and playful day, free from stress and worry. I drove out to buy myself some shoes (they turned out to be too small - apparently I'm a bit preoccupied) and then drove to the site of our former home. The road we live on is about 1 mile wide, dead end, and now mostly blackened forest on both sides. There were tree service vehicles, power company trucks, many fire vehicles (still checking for hot spots and flareups - they'll be here for weeks.) I drove very slowly, taking it all in. About half of the houses seem to have survived, many are eerily missing. I passed one man, large and strong, sobbing against his truck, among friends. The power company was putting up new poles at the corner of our driveway, one news crew heading back to their van, one from another station just pulling up. Because of the intensity of the fire, the multiple structures, and the fact that it can be seen from the highway, our home is the feature story in all media including CNN. Here's another video of my mother's house:



As I walked onto the property a reporter asks if she can speak with me. At this point, seeing it all for the first time, I could barely form a sentence. I probably mumbled incoherently to her, telling her who I was and showing her the remnants of my home. She's a local girl, grew up not too far away, and I recognize her family name. Still, I told I wasn't able to do an interview, and sent her to my brother. He'd arrived the day before, the moment they opened the road, and had already spoken to numerous reporters.
This story mentions him (and his girlfriend's unfortunate Harley,) and in the print version there was a photo of him sorting through melted LPs. Some of the facts are incorrect but that's to be expected.

http://origin.mercurynews.com/breakingnews/ci_9668081

More later, I've got to go now and run errands, get a PO box, ship a belt to a customer, call my mother with an update, tell the library they won't be getting their books back, and a thousand other things.
Thanks to all for the thousands of prayers, kind words, and offers of everything from clothing to a place to lay our heads. I cannot say in words how much it means to all of us. Thanks.

Update: two of the three cats have been found. Mom's Moses (renamed "Winston" at the animal shelter because my brother couldn't remember his name in the moment) is being treated for minor burns on his paws and the shelter is looking for a foster home. Sophie, our skittish, antisocial outdoor brown tabby, showed up this morning looking thin but fine.

On the way "Home"

(from 6/22/08)

Yesterday was my cousin's wedding party at her beautiful new home in Huntington Beach. We did our best to smile and say "We'll be fine" when asked how we're doing. I knew that, surrounded by family both close and distant, we were in a safe place to give answers that sound like more than small talk but I felt it was better not to be a bliss killer, to let them celebrate without worrying about us.

We're headed back to Santa Cruz County today, back to the vicinity of home. Home is a place that will have different meaning from now on. We'll eventually create another home, but will there ever be the same sense of comfort implicit in the word? Tonight we're camping. I have an amazing and resourceful circle of friends who are all offering to squeeze us in until we figure everything out, and I imagine Laurel and I will be taking each of them up on their offers in turns, but I'm also vowing to be careful of taking too long in any one place, or of seeming to be without purpose.

They're letting a few folks up our rural, dead-end road today. The site is muddy ash. There are a few scraps of melted metal, remnants that are recognizable. The fire was hot enough to have melted our cast iron bathtub, the rims of cars.

My girl is mourning each possession she remembers, one at a time. Her plastic horse collection, Harry Potter books, the keepsake box given to her by her great grandmother. It's hard enough to take this all in as an adult, I can't imagine what it feels like at 10 years old when everything is supposed to be full of the idea of future and promise. Friday the 13th of June was a happy, lucky day when she finished the 5th grade, walked in her schools promotion ceremony, and spent the afternoon at a little party with friends playing, swimming and camping.


Happyday

That's what 10 is supposed to look like. By the end of the day she'll be looking at the remnants of her world on a parched hillside. She wants to see it, and I believe none of this will be real to her until she does. "Home" will have new meaning for her as well.

Our Fire

(from 6/21/08)
(Continued from http://daisyfairbanks.typepad.com)

My daughter and I, and our family, have lost our home to a fire. Everything is gone. Luckily we happened to be out of town at my cousin's wedding, a beautiful cruise on the harbor in Newport Beach. Back at home in Santa Cruz County, we learned that our family home had turned to ashes.

We lived on what we jokingly called "The Family Compound," a group of 5 structures that included homes for 8 family members on 2.5 acres. I grew up there, learned to ride horses, was taught to sew by my mother, learned to make the perfect pie crust from my grandmother, learned to shoot straight from my father. Our home was a destination for family members during the summer, and was always full of kids and laughter. I moved back when I had my girl, and she'd come to love it in the same way, as her home.

Our local news has been featuring this video, showing our home engulfed in flames. The cottage that belonged to my daughter and I is the one that's the bright orange square in the center. My mother's house is light colored and only half in flames at the beginning of the video, more and more devastated toward the film's end.

http://www.ksbw.com/video/16670415/index.html

Ignore the audio portion of the broadcast, it's completely unrelated to what you're seeing:

All family members are safe. My sister managed to quickly grab a few photos from 3 of our homes but had to quickly evacuate as the road had only one way out and there was fire on both sides. The dog was rescued, 3 cats are not accounted for. We'll all be fine. We're a bit in shock as you can imagine, but trying to figure out the next step.

Regarding my vintage clothing business, my inventory is all safe at my brick and mortar store. On the plus side, I no longer have the pile of laundry and mending. More later.....