From Fog to Fire
Update 11:30 p.m.: The original shelter for the Witch Creek fire -- Poway High School -- has been closed down and everyone is now going to Mira Mesa High School, site of the last Red Cross shelter, where we ended up celebrating Alex's 15th birthday in the parking lot during the early hours of the Cedar fire. The wind is just roaring now; it sounds like a hurricane outside. The out-of-control fire's split in two. The one to the north, closer to us, is expected to enter the city in a couple of hours. People with large animals are bringing them to Del Mar Fairgrounds or Lakeside's Rodeo Area (if near the Harris fire in East County). I'm starting to really worry about my friends in the outerskirts of town.
All hell is breaking loose here. Not directly here, but we've been engulfed in toxic brushfire smoke since about 2 this afternoon. The harsh Santa Ana winds have pushed the noxious odors through cracks in the windows and blown ash all over our backyard. I just came from the gas station and the lines are long, signaling everyone's taking orders to fill up now seriously. Then I stopped at the ATM inside our grocery store. I knew from hurricane days of old that rural Carolinians crave cookies during disaster preparation (curiously, the sweets on store shelves always were wiped out along with the bottled water). Californians are apparently not going down without some brie and high-end crackers to go along with that bottled water. Honestly, that's what I kept seeing in check-out lines and as people passed me with their shopping carts.
This is eerily similar to the Cedar fire that destroyed 2,400 homes and killed 15 people almost four years ago to the day. Then, while families like mine were running for our lives, striking grocery workers at the Vons across the street were kickin' back on the hoods of their cars like they were watching a fireworks show.
Something tells me I'm not going to sleep well tonight.
All hell is breaking loose here. Not directly here, but we've been engulfed in toxic brushfire smoke since about 2 this afternoon. The harsh Santa Ana winds have pushed the noxious odors through cracks in the windows and blown ash all over our backyard. I just came from the gas station and the lines are long, signaling everyone's taking orders to fill up now seriously. Then I stopped at the ATM inside our grocery store. I knew from hurricane days of old that rural Carolinians crave cookies during disaster preparation (curiously, the sweets on store shelves always were wiped out along with the bottled water). Californians are apparently not going down without some brie and high-end crackers to go along with that bottled water. Honestly, that's what I kept seeing in check-out lines and as people passed me with their shopping carts.
This is eerily similar to the Cedar fire that destroyed 2,400 homes and killed 15 people almost four years ago to the day. Then, while families like mine were running for our lives, striking grocery workers at the Vons across the street were kickin' back on the hoods of their cars like they were watching a fireworks show.
Something tells me I'm not going to sleep well tonight.
