The Holiday Farm Fire

Get Out! Now! A Firefighter’s Account of the Holiday Farm Fire of 2020

Part 11/12

Epilogue

Sweat and tears rolled down my face as my shovel took another stab at the rocky ground. This was the fourth dog I’d had to bury today. There had been some cats, too. The air smelled of death so strongly I couldn’t smell the smoke. I had been checking on people’s properties in the burn zone for days. I’d have to take a picture of the grave when I was done burying the dog, and send it to my friend when I made it back to Tokatee Golf Course.

Every morning I would go to the golf course with the rescued horses grazing the green rolling hills. Hundreds of tents were spread out across the golf course that the wildland firefighters would sleep in. I would get my assignments to check on people as a medic and I would use the emergency wi-fi to check my phone.

Word had spread that I could check on people’s properties after checking on people. I would work from sunrise to sunset every day. I was exhausted not only from the long hours of work, but also from the long nights in which I couldn’t sleep. The weight of this burden had made it hard to eat and hard to sleep. Every day I’d drive out to the stubborn people that refused to leave because they knew that if they left they wouldn’t be allowed to come back home until the fire had been contained.

I was one of those stubborn people. The wildland firefighting crew leaders had told all of us in the Upper McKenzie Rural Fire Department to get out of the area and just let them handle it. Well, I had refused to leave, and I found that once again, I could act as a local guide. I knew the locals who were looking for missing friends and family members. I often knew where to find those missing people, too. I’d given up by now on trying to get them to leave, but I just made sure that they were alright. Every day I’d check on more houses and take pictures that I could send to their owners when I got back to the golf course.

Sadly, I was going to have to send this friend a picture of their burned home and the graves for their pets. Suddenly my breaths came too fast. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs as my thoughts turned from telling this friend about the ruins of their home to telling my family about the missing person who I found the remains of.

One man had died in this fire. I had gone looking for him, hopeful that I’d find him alive and well. He was not alive and well. He was a family member, but the police had made it clear that I could not say a word to anyone. I came very close to getting in big trouble with the police that day. I had to wait for them to do it, and it felt like it was taking forever.

I didn’t want to leave my family in suspense any longer, but I also dreaded breaking the news to them. As I considered how I could possibly tell them, I crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I laid on the charred ground sobbing with my burning eyes squeezed tight against the terrible reality I faced.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me. I grew still in shock, and I tried my best to slow my breathing. Who would be here in this wasteland with me? It had to be another firefighter, but when I heard her voice, I became very confused.

“It’s okay.” It was my wife’s voice.

I opened my eyes to darkness as she shook me again and gently told me it was okay. I was a little confused for a moment about where I was, then I realized I was in bed. It was just another bad dream. It wasn’t a week and a half after Labor Day. I reminded myself that it was almost a year and a half after the fire that had turned our part of the world to ashes.

My eyes gradually focused in our dark room and I could make out my wife’s concerned eyes. She held our newborn son in her arms and the sight brought a smile to my eyes. I reached over to put my hand on his soft hair and peace washed over me. I didn’t want to talk about my dream, I just wanted to forget it. I just wished the memories would stop haunting me.

I grabbed Katie’s hand and squeezed it for a moment, then got out of bed. I found that usually I could get back to sleep after I’d had a little snack and gone to the couch. I didn’t need lights to walk through our house in the middle of the night. As I came down the stairs with my eyes closed, I wondered if there was anything I could do for the trauma I struggled with. All the counselors we had called weren’t taking any new patients. I still had a cough too.

Suulataaq- the company restoring our highway- finished removing burned trees that were a danger to the road after a year of work, but the burned trees that were not a hazard to the road would probably be a part of the landscape for longer than I lived. People were rebuilding homes, but many of the people I knew had moved away. Many of their burned homes would soon be replaced with more vacation rentals along the scenic McKenzie River. It feared that even though the school wasn’t destroyed by the fire in 2020, it could someday be destroyed by the fire because of a lack of families living in the valley.

Sometimes I thought the ones that lost it all that night and just started over somewhere else might be happier in a way. They didn’t have to see constant reminders of the destruction. Every day on my way to the school I got to make the same trip that I had made that night with Joe.

Many of the people who stayed were spending their second winter in trailers as they waited for a new home. Those that left didn’t have to go without internet or phone for months. They didn’t have to deal with the roadwork doubling the time it took to get to town for about a year. I also wondered if getting out of the trees lessened their anxiety of it all happening again during the next summer storm. Every time it got smoky in the summer, or there was a storm, I suffered from bad anxiety. On the other hand, I could only imagine how difficult it would be to lose a houseful of precious things; each item holding a wealth of memories.

On the bright side, our fire department had new recruits. Tonight, I held my son, who was six days old, during Thursday night drill. I smiled just thinking of his sweet little face. Everyone at the drill was so excited to meet him.

I opened the fridge, grabbed a cheese stick from the fridge and headed for the couch, still lost in thought. In a way the fire seemed so long ago because so much had changed. Having another child gave me hope for the future and fear for the future. It’s funny how sometimes opposites can come together as a pair. I could feel my heart rate getting back to normal as I settled in with a blanket and a pillow on the couch. I enjoyed the chewy, salty cheese stick. As I closed my eyes, the tones of my emergency radio broke the quiet of the night.

Through static I heard: “Upper McKenzie, caller has reported a car accident near Milepost 43.”

I sighed heavily as I listened to the details and got up to grab my radio and respond.