Surreal

Where I grew up, pretty much nothing ever happened. Sure, things got a little exciting at the beginning of each month when social security checks were issued and the roads were clogged with retirees driving 15mph below the speed limit to flock to the shopping centers, but that was basically it. Except for one thing: brush fires. Although we lived in the northern-most part of the city of San Diego, we were surrounded on all sides by open canyons and hills filled with brush. Every summer we would have a few fires and all the kids would hop on their bikes and race to watch the firefighters in action. Still, I can only think of one time where the fires got close enough to truly endanger homes, and even then they were somehow all saved; I don't recall a single home ever being lost when I lived there.

So imagine how strange it was to be sitting on the other side of the country and watching reporters identifying your sleepy little town by name as one of the epicenters of damage in the big Witch Creek fire. As far as I know they still haven't done any final tallies, but I heard something this morning indicating that approximately 300 homes may have been lost in my community alone--from a fire that started 20 miles away. Even stranger, based on what I've been able to read online, there has been particularly heavy damage within a couple of blocks of the house I grew up in. As mentioned yesterday, I'm not really in touch with people back home any more (although my Mom may very well know folks who have been affected, and I suspect the former homes of several friends are likely gone), and indeed I haven't been back in at least 5 years, so I can't say it hits quite as close to home as it could, but it's still incredibly strange and surreal and heartbreaking to imagine so much loss in such a familiar and generally quiet place...