I didn’t actually see my house burn down during the Camp Fire on 11.8.18, but I did get to see its foundation and rubble safely removed by a crew that acted with great skill and evident respect for the land, the wildlife, the emerging vegetation and the people whose lives had also burned to the ground. I was deeply impressed and moved by the team, many of whom had lost their own homes or loved ones in fires.
Calm and compassionate Stephanie, who had briefed me at length on the phone two days before, supervised the removal process as she coordinated the actions and safety of Task Force 230, a specialized environmental crew that clears toxic debris near sensitive waterways, with the state and Federal agencies, while providing information and support for us burnouts.
The Office of Emergency Services (Cal OES), Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), and local officials coordinate with the State’s Debris Task Force and its Debris Management Teams (DMT) to conduct the fire-related debris removal. Once we had turned in our ROE (Right of Entry) form in late November we had no idea when our property would be cleared, but we received a call when the contracted crew was ten days out, then two days out, and then the night before the crew was ready to begin.
Follow me below the fold for a photo-heavy, video-heavy documentary of the environmental task force at work as they restored our land back to a clean rebuildable site. (Spoiler alert: We won’t)
Because our house was perched on the bank of Smiley Creek (the affectionate local nickname for our tiny branch of year-round Clear Creek), an environmental task force of specially trained workers and inspectors was contracted to remove all toxic materials, to ensure the land was cleared of debris without further contaminating the creek or displacing wildlife, and to ensure proper erosion control by leaving a gentle slope where the house’s daylight basement foundation had been carved out of the clay soil. “We want to help this area come back to life as quickly as possible,” Stephanie said.
When I arrived at 7:30 Saturday morning all the areas containing wildflowers and living plants had been gently watered from a giant water truck brought up from Chico and then carefully roped off. I was asked to point out the septic tank so that space could also be roped off, saving it from certain destruction by the heavy equipment. One by one crew members walked over to introduce themselves, offer condolences, and explain the unfolding process. Was there anything I wanted preserved? Was there any area of the house containing lost items they could help us search through? I thanked them and said no, we had already found what little of value that was worth finding. I need to be clear here: It was not distressing watching the house being deconstructed. For me, living there was never about the house or all the “stuff’ we accumulated. It was always about the gardens, the wildlife and the creek, and I was honored to be their caretaker for 28 years.
Not so much as a cracked flower pot was removed without my permission. All crews working within the fire’s “footprint” wore full hazmat suits and respirators while removal equipment was running. I was told that asbestos had been previously found and cleared. This is not an unusual find for houses built in the 70’s.
A biologist who monitors the job with an eye towards preserving the waterways and wildlife explained that he found no bird nests or protected frogs in the area, and he pointed out the location of a carcass by the culvert that was most likely a deer (it was). Stephanie handed us masks to wear once the machinery started up. The excavator driver walked me along the path of where he would maneuver the heavy rig to minimize damage to surrounding plants. I was skeptical that he could stay within the narrow boundaries he sketched out, but he did. I offered him the use of a secondary wide dirt driveway below, but he shook his head. The biologist monitor had ruled it out as too close to the creek.
We settled outselves in the shade of a heavily scorched Ponderosa pine on the opposite hillside and watched in utter amazment as the operator nimbly navigated the huge claw excavator within the small space between the edge of the “footprint” of the burned out house and the edge of the hillside that sloped down to the water.
Work was halted twice for discoveries. I watched Stephanie and the immediate crew gather around the northeast corner of the foundation, a chunk of which was seated so far back into the hillside that removing it would have created an issue with grading the slope. Stephanie took pictures with her phone and sent them to the head of OES for the state of California, who arrived shortly after for a look. (“He’s the top guy in town, so we click our heels and salute when he comes by. Metaphorically speaking, of course,” she grinned.)
BELOW: A breathtaking moment as the skillfully operated hydrolic claw begins taking down the basement foundation walls. The land slopes sharply down to Smiley Creek beyond the red tape where you can see comfrey returning.
At another point work was halted while their pipe fitting expert was brought in to examine the area around the propane tank. I was told that the entire project could take up to three days depending on if any other surprises arose, including the discovery of any bones. I mentioned my animal skull collection and Stephanie assured me that all bones from inside the house had previously been located by cadaver sniffing dogs and identified as non-human before excavation could begin.
“There are still many people unaccounted for, some we may never know about” she said, which didn’t surprise me, given the speed of the wind-driven fire that at times traveled at the rate of one football field per second. But why, I wondered, had people been found dead in their beds? Why hadn’t they smelled smoke? Stephanie recounted how her (fortunately unoccupied) house had burned down so rapidly that likely no one could have escaped, explaining that our olfactory nerves shut down during sleep so the smell of smoke doesn’t waken us; hence the need for smoke detectors.
BELOW: More than half the basement walls have been knocked down and the concrete foundation is being pulled up. A massive chunk of concrete with rebar that resembled giant quivering insect antennae is plucked out and almost delicately set aside so the rebar can be sawed off by one worker, while another provides a steady flow of water from a nearby truck to keep the dust down. The debris truck above is lined with plastic and when filled the debris is “burrito wrapped” so particulates don’t fly out during transport. Stephanie wishes they could use mycelium wrapping that would help “digest” the contents, but this is still being tested for large scale debris removal.
A handsome young man who represented the Chico Rancheria Maidu tribe hiked down the hill to ask if I’d found or knew of any cultural artifacts in the area. I showed him a rocky area near the culvert which purportedly was the site of an ancient campground, where a former neighbor told us he’d hiked around as a child collecting arrowheads before any houses had been built. As we poked around the rocky creek bed he told me that on a nearby branch of Clear Creek they’d found native gaming pieces and a fishing lure that were at least 500 years old. Meanwhile John ran into a young woman representing the Konkow Maidu tribe who was also there to photograph any artifacts that might turn up.
BELOW: More destruction pr0n video. Note the way the operator uses the claw of the excavator as a pivoting arm. When all the debris is removed the gouged out earth will be smoothed into a proper gradient. The taller plants outside the rope line are comfrey, and much of the vinca and crimson clover that had been planted to prevent erosion on the slope are coming back nicely. Unfortunately, invasive plants I spent decades digging up like blackberries and scotch broom are also coming back in force.
After the debris is removed and the land is graded the soil will be tested for toxins, after which the plot will be released for rebuilding. We will not rebuild. After living there for 28 years I can tell you numerous reasons why that was a terrible place to build a house. And now it’s unlikely that houses will even be allowed to be built so close to waterways.
Because of the creek the land has always been a wildlife corridor (including a way station for migrating hummingbirds in the summer), and we cultivated drought tolerant as well as hummingbird and butterfly friendly native vegetation. I’m hoping to donate the property to a land trust or nature conservancy organization so that no one will ever be able to build there again. There’s also the option of keeping the land and putting a Nature Conservancy easement on it to prevent any future construction. The Town of Paradise is fielding so many requests for preservation of open spaces that more options will likely arise. Meanwhile, the land will heal. Greenery is already coming up everywhere.
It turns out that while you can burn down a house and every living thing around it, you can’t burn down a creek. Smiley Creek will abide.
Below: Soothing view of the creek.
A Word About Dave: People ask if Dave, our creekside human-sized replica of The David who was adorned in holiday garb over the years, made it through the fire. He is still there, though somewhat charred and missing his right hand and his green bower of ivy. When I heard FEMA was coming we made one last pass of the property to remove any usable items, and I stopped at the Dollar Store to buy Dave some clothes for his visitors so they’d know I meant for him to remain and also to provide the crew a moment of levity.
Crewmember Darryl told me “That thing scared the shit out of me!” He’d been doing a preliminary walk along the creek when he turned and was startled by the sudden appearance of the bizarrely dressed hippie you see in the video below.
Task Force 230’s next scheduled property down the road includes a pond, populated by its sole surviving non-native pet duck. Animal rescue volunteers acted quickly after the fire to set up a feeding schedule for the little quacker, and Stephanie says the crew will make certain that his habitat is preserved.
Epilogue: Three days later. A gently graded slope remains where our house stood. After the soil is tested a crew will come out and spread thick layers of mulch. In the fall I’ll go back and spread wildflower seeds and in our grand tradition of Darwinian gardening we’ll see which plants win the competition for space. (My money is on the California poppies.)
Now we have the perfect setting for John’s telescope for summer star parties.
Since my house burned down
I now have a better view
of the rising moon
~ Mizuta Masahide ~