High Park Fire

I haven’t been able to follow up on the fire, because it’s been too hard to catch it.

From my near hysteria on the phone with a friend the first day when I was watching the plume and knowing my sister would be out there with it. To the shock of seeing the fire walking down the hill to my Colorado home. To what it means to be evacuated. To listening in on emergency services to hear Carol’s voice and know she was OK. To hearing the radio traffic as Poudre Fire Authority fought for Don’s. To be guessing what “happy dance” meant. To know that there were so many houses that were still in danger ten days in. To the pop, pop, pop of people I knew in so many different ways… Louise lost her house, Mark lost his house, Larry lost his house and shop, Joe lost his house and his entire horse set up. To hearing that my best friend lost her house. To coming home to ash and the black and the fire line right there next to the house. To the map where the east fire line jogs west just north of CO 14. That’s the driveway, that’s where the fire goes around the house. To knowing there are people going home to the middle of the ash. To the driving east with my son on a prescheduled trip two weeks in and someplace in Kansas finally not seeing smoke.

I can’t explain all that. Someone helped my sister tell the bigger story, the real heroes. Watch it.

This isn’t over. This is the beginning. There are houses and lives to rebuild.

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