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On a windy, blisteringly hot afternoon when my youngest son was six weeks old, an arsonist threw a lit cigarette into dry brush in the mountains above Santa Barbara.
Within the hour, everyone downhill watched churning towers of smoke overtake the mountainside. The wind was keening straight toward the ocean, directly across the city. Neighborhoods in the fire's path raced to evacuate.
Soon, from 15 miles away, we could see columns of flame shrieking from canyons and ravines, racing down the mountains. We all packed up to evacuate. Pulled cars out of the garage, for when the power went out. Loaded vital documents and wedding photos and diapers.
From the direction of the wind, I knew our neighborhood wasn't in the immediate path of the fire - at that point, at least. But my parents' neighborhood was. And I couldn't get hold of them on the phone.
My husband took the baby & our 2 toddlers. I jumped in the car and headed for my parents' house. With every mile, the scene grew more frantic. The air went thick & brown. Sheriffs' cars screamed past. A woman on horseback emerged from the smoke, leading a string of horses.
By the time I reached my parents' neighborhood, the wind was wild. The sky was tinged red from flames. I found my folks outside with an elderly neighbor, watching the apocalypse unfold. I got out & heard explosions. Cars a few blocks over were burning, their tires blowing up.
Soon after that, the wind shifted, sparing my parents' street. But it drove the fire across the freeway all the way to the ocean.
The Painted Cave Fire destroyed more than 500 homes and many businesses. Not everyone made it out. But as the flames gouged the hills and city, firefighters and Air Attack planes rushed in to battle it, day and night.
My high school was turned into a base for fire crews from across California & the west. Hundreds of courageous, dogged firefighters slept, filthy & exhausted, outside the gym. I cannot tell you the depth of gratitude every single person in the city felt - still feels - for them.
Afterward, seeing miles of blackened neighborhoods, shriveled trees, homes burned down to the foundation, was heartrending. Thousands of people lost everything but the clothes on their backs.
Santa Barbara needed help. Thank God the disaster relief people desperately needed was available. As it's meant to be, for all of us, everywhere across the country. Which leads me to my point.
The former Chief of Staff of the Department of Homeland Security reports that after another horrifying wildfire, the president told FEMA to stop relief for people who lost their homes, because he was "rageful" that Californians didn't support him. https://twitter.com/RVAT2020/status/1295428130170195968
It's hard, these days, to find myself both stunned and sickened. So much has come down on us lately that such news can leave us numb. But that did it. Vengeful, petty cruelty toward Americans who had just fled for their lives from a cataclysm, and who had nothing left. Vote.
