Friday, October 26, 2007

 

Witch Fire

I was with my girlfriend at her home in RB dead asleep. When the Reverse 911 call wakes you from a dead sleep. The first thing I did was put on my underwear while together we were trying to figure out what to take. It was simple-the laundry basket, passport, her kids pictures and the dress she's to wear to her son's wedding.

My immediate family and close friend were safe so she and I spent the week at my home safe but we on the edge listening to the radio. Anyone I contacted I let know it was okay to stay with me and a family stayed. Funny about what we forgot to take-her computer, and a keepsake from her father.

We gave money to the Red Cross at Gate F at Qualcomm Stadium where the Chargers play and we tried to give sleeping supplies but they had too much already. At the Boys and Girls Club of Poway, we gave supplies and lent an ear to an old lady (Sheila). She was full of life and thankful that she had a place to sleep. It felt good to be around the community of San Diego. I was proud of their goodwill toward each other.

We listened to the media sparingly to avoid being traumatized and did our level best to maintain normalcy though it is just plain difficult to get back to normalcy after the worst of the fire has settled. It wasn't until I wept that I became aware of how much tension I held. I suspect I wept because we were past the worst of it.

We visited my girlfriends house when they allowed us in. We wore N95 masks because the air was full of toxic particulates. Her house survived but others not so good. A man up the street interviewed by KPBS lost his first house-his dream house with his collection of 100 year old bibles. I'm reminded of what Wallace Stegner wrote and I paraphrase "just when life becomes orderly and predictable, something from out of nowhere comes in and changes everything".

Labels:


Comments:
Forgive me for not coming by earlier. It's been a shit year. I'm so glad you are okay.
 
Post a Comment



<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?