Smoke and ashes

I’m OK. My house is OK. My dog is OK.

The wildfires that blazed through Napa County didn’t destroy any property within the city limits, although we had horrible air quality for many days. The smoke was so thick in the air at times that it was hard to see houses a block away. Schools closed. People were urged to stay indoors and to don N-97 masks when they absolutely must go out. On local social media sites like Nextdoor.com people provided updates on where one could buy masks and listen to the scanners to get real-time updates on the fire-fighting activity.

Cell towers were knocked out for most major carriers, and coverage was spotty or non-existent. With power out in some parts of the city of Napa, the only way people could get updates was to tune into the local radio station.

I never lost power, but I had no mobile coverage for several days. Since I stayed in the house, I was able to use wi-fi to make calls to worried friends and check on neighbors. Days and nights were punctuated by Nixle text alerts about road closures, mandatory and advisory evacuations, power outages, and the location of emergency shelters.

My car and everything in my yard was covered in ash. My little house is located at a low point, but friends with two-story houses or those at just on slight rises posted photos of the fires burning in the mountains at night.

Neighbors and strangers were helpful and kind to each other. When I asked about getting an N-97 mask on Nextdoor.com, a guy I had never met dropped two off for me for free. People volunteered at the shelters for people and pets. The local hotels offered stripped down prices to local residents who had to evacuate, yet had the means to pay something for a place to stay.

I was lucky to have friends in San Francisco and other areas outside the fire zone. When I found myself coughing even inside my closed up house, I took up a friend on his offer to stay at his house in San Francisco. I quickly packed Hannah dog and some necessities in the car and set off through the burned landscape. I returned home a few days later, after the winds had shifted to blow some smoke out of the valley.

The fires are mostly contained now, and there are signs all over town thanking the first responders. People see fire-fighters at local restaurants and stop to thank them personally. Many times the tab is paid, too. The fair grounds are still full of tents, trailers, and off duty fire trucks from other counties and states.

Schools are starting again on Monday, and the local visitors associations are urging tourists to come back. Locals are getting back to work, if they can.

The landscape will be very different for years to come. A favorite local hiking place only a few minutes from my house will be closed for months.

But so many people are not OK, and I’m grateful that I am.