A Smokey Displacement
On Tuesday, September 4th we were allowed back on the Kootenai to revisit our homes.
At the public fire meeting on Monday evening, we were told we would have 15 minutes of escorted time – because they have learned people go and stay. It makes people a risk.
As I drove the 50 minutes, I wondered what it would be like. My brief talks with Hubby each day has painted a small picture for me of what’s happened to him, personally, and the Kootenai community.
But, still, I wonder what it will be like.
Crossing the bridge at Lake Koocanusa you see…
Nothing.
Nothing but Smoke.
Usually, the view is gorgeous. Mountains and lake for miles and miles in both directions. The sun and sky mingle with the lake and mountains showing an array of moods every time you cross the bridge. It’s the gateway home.
I can’t see one mountain today. Just grey smoke.
I continue the climb up the mountain, passing a staging area for the Caribou Fire. Fire and Logging equipment are parked there.
Entering our community that we call “the Kootenai” it’s still. Quiet. Too Quiet.
Smoke hems everything in.
When there is a break in the mountains and trees, you still have no view, only smoke to see, taste, and feel.
It’s a reality check.
That fire is still out there – devouring more forest, and a threat to our home.
At Tooley Lake, I’m stopped by authorities. License plate, time, and number of persons in my vehicle are recorded.
Then they tell me I will not be escorted, (not enough personnel) and I have an hour!!
My heart does a little dance . . . An hour with Hubby Dear.
Driving slowly on in with lights on and 4-ways flashing, there are fire trucks, police, firemen, and border patrol all along the road.
This is not my typical Kootenai.
Can’t see any flames – just all smoke.
My first stop was at the shop to see my man. SMILE.
Cry. That was one wonderful hug! A tiny piece of normal.
Feeling the short time that we have, we jump in the van and head the rest of the way in our driveway to the house.
Talking all the while. I want to hear his story, he wants to hear mine. We get a tiny bit of both.
HOME.
It’s still sitting there, waiting on us. We are so blessed. Somehow the visual was reassuring.
We talk fast, but not nearly enough time to catch up. He longs for the noise of our children. Yet he has no picture of what our life is like as evacuees. I have not seen or experienced his side – the terrifying moments that that firewall went thru. Fighting a spot fire . . .
Talking as we scramble to gather a few more things for me and the children. I brought a few things for him. We hold hands as we walk from the house to the freezer shack.
The hour disappears fast.
Neighbors – and dear friends- stop by. What a joy to hug them. Again, we talk over top of each other. Makes us long for our normal, daily life and a long neighborly chat over tea.
It was time to go – and say goodbye again.
This time the fear is not so raw.
But it’s still the unknown. And a long wait.
Displacement
I come back off the Kootenai to a continuing feeling of displacement. The word has a whole new meaning to me.
My children are having emotional meltdowns. They struggle with understanding, and they don’t even know how to phrase questions. Amber has been asking for her Daddy. The children get used to one place, make new friends, then it all changes. We have gone somewhere every day – which is not all our normal. Keeping life stirred up.
I can get busy in our little cabin with daily life and forget for a moment the depth of what’s going on. Then I step outside and get that instant heavy smoke smell and everything comes rushing back to my heart – what we’ve been through with the fire, the waiting, and the wondering. I pray again.
Due to some physical needs and extenuating circumstances – no heat for one – we needed to move from our first place. So, it’s been one of our prayers, to find a place. Particularly I prayed for a private place in the country with room for the children to play and a kitchen.
God shows Himself strong in the details. He is a Daddy-Father taking care of His children.
Our answer to prayer
Yesterday (Wednesday), we moved into a perfect little cabin. It sits back a long lane in the woods. Lots of places for the children to play. It has a kitchen.
Our Hosts in both places have been a wonderful blessing. They have made phone calls, delivered our trailers, brought us eggs and garden produce, home-canned soups, and more.
For the first time since leaving the Kootenai, I feel I can relax – think -and have some normal family time.
I already see changes in the children. They have struggled, too with this displacement.
Displacement is no small thing, and it hasn’t even been a full week for us yet.
Community
The community here – both near and far – have reached out. Giving time and resources abundantly. How can you even begin to list the thoughtfulness?
Beds
Meals
Showers
Personal needs
Snacks
Water
Clothing
Homes
Campers
Diapers
Paying restaurant tabs
Vet bills paid
Pet care
Toys
Packed lunches
Time
Homemade meals
There are personal stories behind all those things – some from our own family, others from our neighbors.
Our physical needs are met in tremendously caring ways.
We feel all these hugs. Really, in so many ways these thoughtful acts are an extension of God’s hands in our personal lives. We see and feel these blessings.
Blankets and shirts given, my children were so thrilled.
Fire Details
Today, September 8th, we had a man come around our lunch tables with a map of the fire showing what is being done and how it affects the community.
Each day, a new map and information are posted, this one is different.
Caribou fire map
As of this morning, the fire is considered 25% contained.
Size is 21,000 acres.
It has 233 men fighting it – that’s a 125 person increase today.
The “x” around the edges of the fire, and in other strategic places, are fire lanes – paths to keep the fire from going farther in that direction. They not only cut out trees and brush, but they also go back in and wet it down and dig out anything hot and smoldering. For a fire this size, it takes a lot of manpower to cover all the edges.
Caribou fire is somewhat a horseshoe shape – wrapping around the Kootenai community. Should the fire spread on the south-east side it will block off the only road that serves the community. If we are allowed back in too soon, evacuation again could be a huge problem. Tomorrow (Saturday, September 9th), high winds are expected – which will really test those fire lanes. Then tomorrow night there is a public fire meeting planned.
The daily map that’s posted of the fire
Prayer Needs
Safety of all – residents, firemen, other authorities
Pray the fire stays contained, and does not jump the fire lanes.
We need rain without lightening.
For God to be glorified through every situation.
~Sheila
See the first part of this story Here.
Read the WHOLE story in a book, here is the link to purchase.
