In the Line of Fire

I'm on the near-edge of my first California disaster experience. I mean, I've been living here five years and there have been earthquakes, but I never felt them. There's been flooding, but never in the places I lived. Now, as a true introduction of sorts to the southern California living experience, there is FIRE.

There's something about the power of fire you can't deny. Call it the animal inside or instinct or racial memory or what have you, but there's something about the beauty and devastation of fire that makes you want to weep; both in awe and fear.

Last night I was driving home and the horizon was a line of dark hills lit up with, what looked like, hundreds of bonfires. It was one of the most beautiful and terrifying things I've ever seen. And it seems safe to say that because, to date, only one home has been lost and one person injured.

Today, the fire has moved from a vicarious 8-9 miles away to an uncomfortable 3-5 miles away. The 4 PM sky was overcast. The sun glowed red through a blanket of gray. Smoke rose in wide columns from the surrounding hills. And as my husband and I watered down the vegetation surrounding our house, ash was falling from the sky.

We've offered up our homes to friends & colleagues who are more directly in danger. Feeling a bit safer and more smug that we were tempted by the isolated life of the hills, but thought better of it. In reality, our budget had a bigger say in that decision. But these people are sticking it out, like many others. Unlike the victims of Hurricane Katrina, money is not an issue for these folks. If they lose it all, they can rebuild, and rebuild quickly. So why risk themselves and their families to take a chance on something unpredictable?

Because they're human. When it comes down to it, no matter how much money we have or don't have, how much melanin we have or don't have, people are the same. We always have the sense that, at the top of the animal heap, we control nature and she rarely controls us. When she proves us foolish, we pick up the pieces and move on. But when we've made a life for ourselves, whether in the bayou or in a multimillion dollar estate in a California canyon, we're reluctant to just give up on it and enter the unknown.

That's the thing we need to recognize and remember about ourselves and each other. None of us should stand in judgment of each other's decisions in crisis, because we may very well find ourselves in a similar situation in no time at all. And just like the earthquake, flood, hurricane, tornado, fire, or other disaster that may come our way, the outcome is always unpredictable..