I can easily speak my sincere heartfelt thanks to our Daily Kos community and my other friends, but it’s difficult to know what to say beyond that. The aftermath of a catastrophe like the Camp Fire isn’t as jazzy or exciting as fleeing amidst flames. I’m dealing with the bureaucracy of being a survivor, as are thousands of other people. Thanks to you, my spirit is lightened by having options and I’ve an exciting change to announce.
The fundraiser belinda ridgewood set up was enthusiastically embraced by this community. Because money creates fluidity, your help buffered me from feeling stuck. The Go Fund Me raised a startling grand total of $20,053 in 17 days thanks to the donations of 193 people.
Each donation is meaningful and does more than help one woman and three parrots build a new life. As is true for adopting a rescued dog, you aren’t just helping one dog (me). I’m not stuck here in Chico scrambling for the few available living situations, which now consist of any space (like a back yard or driveway) that can accommodate an RV. Because of your help, I’m not competing for the limited local resources with people who must remain here.
My life now involves patiently working through to-do lists for address change and canceling services, long lines in stores, and traffic jams (adding 10,000 people to Chico has thrown the traffic systems into disarray). Days are punctuated by friends calling/texting to ask if I’m okay or tell me they are and we all know “okay” has a new definition that can mean “I’m grateful my home is gone since my town is gone.” The most positive report of an unburned home I’ve heard from the few people whose homes survived is “Well it is what it is.”
An Australian ABC website has interesting before/after photos of Paradise but the images are primarily of mobile home parks and omit the thousands of stick built homes in ashes. A large collection of maps, 360o photos, and drone videos show more representative views. The photos usually show a pile of ash and burned debris with unburned trees all around. This is because, in town, the fire spread structure to structure from thousands of embers flying in the wind. It wasn’t a wall of flames sweeping across town.
Information on how to cope with the aftermath of several communities burning to ash (lower Magalia, Paradise, Concow) travels through friend networks and on social media. We share the best places to obtain quality clothing and bedding, which insurance companies are requiring itemization of home contents and how to convince them into granting the full amount without a list, and standardized lists to help spark memories of every screw, fork, coaxial cable, and gadget. FEMA’s process seems easy at first (I signed up on the phone in 15 minutes), but once in the system the process is like a movie parody of bureaucracy. People are denied because the info we submitted wasn’t properly entered according to the fastidious documentation requirements. People are receiving temporary motel lodging, but longer term options haven’t manifested (although FEMA trailers might be coming later). Some people are stuck on the anger setting seething about PG&E’s negligence that (putatively) caused the fire and FEMA’s slow response. (You want the definition of slow/no response, go to Puerto Rico.) Other people are quick to delineate the county’s new homeless situation as “the deserving poor” (people whose homes burned down in the Camp Fire) and the “undeserving troublemakers” (the pre-existing homeless people who lost their homes previously under circumstances we don’t know).
Three weeks after the fire began and we all raced downslope through flames, welcome rains hit intensely. This was a mixed blessing as the rains extinguished the fire but people who had been allowed to return to less damaged areas now needed to be rescued from flooding by the same emergency responders who had guided them out of the flames. Highway 99 had been closed south of town by the fire and then three weeks later by floods.
Volunteers installed 10,000 feet of straw wattles around the burned homes closest to Butte Creek where salmon are now spawning in the Central Valley’s highest quality spring run salmon creek. And even the erosion control straw bundles floated away. At one point last Thursday, Paradise received an inch of rainfall in one hour.
Some of the areas within the fire perimeter will be reopened this week (my area is not yet listed). The first set of evacuated areas that opened last week were outside the fire perimeter. People who returned to upper Magalia have a 90 minutes one-way drive to Chico that first goes upslope to higher elevation (now snowy), across to the next ridge north, then downslope. On Monday, a lower elevation route out will follow the first areas evacuated (Pentz Magalia Road) and along the south edge of Paradise.
With 17,000 structures and most of the infrastructure destroyed, returning to the burned area is a big deal. The cleanup area is roughly the size of Chicago (about 150,000 acres) and estimated to include 8 million tons of debris. We are warned that the area likely has “high and concerning levels of heavy metals, lead, mercury, dioxin, arsenic, and other carcinogens. Some property may have the presence of radio-active materials.”
A Re-Entry program was established to reduce exposure to toxins. Once people are allowed to return to inspect their home (or debris pile), official checkpoints will look at our documentation to ensure we are visiting our homes (to eliminate looting) and issue each person a re-entry kit. We are asked to take the gear off after inspecting our debris and leave it at the site. Evacuation orders in some parts of Concow have been lifted. The video below is Highway 70 access to Concow.
My plans are beginning to coalesce. DK friends offered me a furnished home in Seattle’s quiet peaceful Magnolia neighborhood. The area is surrounded by water on three sides and holds the largest park in the city. Urban life with everything handy and no need to begin the refurnish a home process will be a way-station on my journey to a new life. I’ll drive there in early January, dodging snow storms. Meanwhile, I’m comfortably settled with Chico friends, methodically working through the tasks of winding up my Paradise life.
Thanks to you, my work now is mundane and achievable. I’m grateful for your friendship and kindness. Everyone’s generous help — donations, sharing the fundraiser, and housing offers — has been the wind beneath my wings.