We were evacuated from the Bald Range wildfire and denied reentry to our home for 13 days. And, by the end of those days, we were longing to go home. We knew our house was standing, had power, and was generally liveable, but there was still the government “process” to follow (insert drinking game here).
To make us feel worse, 90% of the town was allowed home days before we did, in a phased repopulation. That was very frustrating, as there was not well communicated reasons for the delay. I now understand why some people stayed at home during the fire and sheltered in place, rather than deal with the somewhat arbitrary decisions of government bureaucrats. But, at least we still had a home to return to, unlike many, and that is a blessing for us.
A quick assessment when We finally returned home. Luckily, no damage, but smoke, ash, and embers showed how close the fire came. Embers the size of toonies were lying in the grass, on the outdoor furniture (which was now located in the middle of my back yard), and on my worse-for-wear vegetable garden. All of which needed to be cleaned before Coco, our dog, could go outside.
Inside, a gritty film coated everything. A deep clean was necessary, as was, according to my beautiful bride, expensive Dyson air purifiers in the different areas of our home. We were on a boil water notice, which meant the water was undrinkable, even for brushing teeth, and what was left of our fridge and freezers had to be disposed of due to spoiling during the fire-related power outage.
We reconnected with our neighbours - each with their own story about how the fire and evacuation affected them. We learned of the passing of one elderly neighbour during the evacuation - the stress of potentially losing his home was just too much for his heart. We commiserated with our friends that lost everything. And we tried to adapt back to living in a home that we thought was lost to us.
Listeners to my podcast, Stationery Adjacent, will know that I have a lot of hobbies and “toys” in my house. Yet, on my return, walking around, looking at these treasures left a feeling of disconnectedness. They seemed like other peoples things and what I had once thought of as pride in ownership, now seemed to be a burden. Even after almost a month of being back home, I still feel somewhat remote from these collections I had so lovingly curated. I feel a purge coming on.
Once home, the devastation in the neighbourhood and our luck became apparent. Homes were destroyed randomly - a house in the middle of a block was burned. Its neighbours untouched. The fire skipped entire roads, and burned homes further away from the fire-line. By the luck of a little northerly wind, the main town was spared, barely.
I drove through the backroads once they reopened to check out some of the places I loved - forests where I learned to harvest firewood, went exploring off road with friends, camped, fished, and got away from the world. I had tears in my eyes as I saw the destruction. The forests were gone. Tree stumps still burned and smoked, and what used to be a tree-lined view was just a few sticks on the side of a bare mountain. Ash-holes several feet deep were all that remained of beautiful aged ponderosa pines. The majesty of the forest was gone for now and likely many years. I could see through the burned trees to the valley below and viewed the devastation that the fire left in the community of Faulder. Homes, farms, and businesses, just gone.
But, out of the loss, sadness, and survivor’s guilt came something very positive - a stronger sense of community.
A town cannot go through this experience and not become closer. Shared experiences, stories, and challenges from the fire and evacuation brought the town together. #summerlandstrong signs and artwork are popping up all over the place, showing a community committed to rebuilding and becoming more resilient.
A small thank you presentation and dinner was arranged to celebrate the local firefighters who helped protect the town. The organizers had estimated that between 500-1000 people would show up for the event, but there must have been at least 3,000 people - including so many of our neighbours attended. It was heart-warming.
Our weekly summer market swelled in size and became so busy with our neighbours from other towns, that it felt like we were shopping in a city.
Nightly, crowds gathered to wave and celebrate the wildfire fighters as they drove home through our town at the end of the their shifts. A special tour of our steam train was arranged for the amazing Mexican fire fighters before they left.
And, our town organized a massive thank-you card to present to the mayor of the city that hosted so many of the evacuees. I’m not sure it’s enough to say thank you, but it’s a small token. So many in our town signed it.
For many people, we can started moving on after the fire. For others, the process will take longer and be much more difficult as they have to rebuild their lives from a pile of ashes. But, I feel this fire will become lore in the towns history. I doubt it will be forgotten quickly. And, I think it will continue to bring the community together again and more strongly than before.
Like grass already started to sprout in burned forests, Summerland will thrive again.