Saturday, November 15 – Time to Go: It’s after midnight and I’ve spent about 45 minutes (which went by quicker than I could’ve imagined) packing the car and running through my home grabbing things. During this time, the police have driven by many times making the mandatory evacuation announcement. In addition, the winds have picked up. Some of the strongest winds I have ever felt, too. Finally, there are no longer police cars there are two motorcycle policemen sitting outside my house telling me I HAVE to go now. They tell me where the evacuation center is, however, while I have lived in Sylmar for 8 years I have no clue where the high school is. I ask for an intersection and they look at me as if I asked them to explain quantum physics. I tell them I need to make sure my parents are ready and then all 3 of us will be on our way. The police now position themselves between our homes (clearly to keep tabs on us). Mom and Dad say they are ready. We take one last run through each house and while inside mine, I turn to my mother and say “I’m not ready for this”, and I start to cry. She tells me, “this is just like the last fire, we’ll be back.” We line up our cars and leave our homes, of course, not realizing this will be the last time we see our homes.
Saturday, November 15 – We Reach the Evacuation Center: After pulling over to look up the high school in the Thomas Guide, we arrive at the school. The smoke and wind are overpowering, not just irritating but knock you over strength winds and smoke that feels like it is climbing into your lungs and taking away the oxygen. We sign in (number 36, 37, & 38 into the shelter). There is one sad TV showing coverage and 3 TV cameras with reporters. We find chairs and group. Do we try to find a hotel? How long until the first information about what is going on? Has the fire reached the hills near us? Will the winds calm down at first light so the water dropping planes can come in? Is Zoe doing ok in the car? So many questions and no answers. After about 45 minutes in the shelter, we agree that it would be for the best to not head to a hotel as we will get the best information at the shelter. It is around 3:00am and we are hopeful that when the sun comes up in about 2.5 hours things will improve. Around 4:45am, we get our first update from the Los Angeles City Fire Department. It is just basic information and the information officer realizes that most of his audience is from the Oakridge Mobile Home park. He tells us the next update will be at 6:30am. We manage to find a blanket, spread it on the floor of the high school gym and Mom and I manage to get about 30 minutes of sleep.
Saturday, November 15 – 5:00am: I wake up and all I can think about is Zoe. She is still in the car and the air quality must be horrible for her. I decide that I am going to get in my car and drive away from the fire and hope to get some fresh air in the car. As I drive around I decide I will head west, I think this is a safe direction. I was wrong. I have no clue that I am driving into another fire zone. I have no clue that the fire has jumped the I-5 freeway and is in Mission Hills. I turn around and head south as quick as possible to avoid more smoke and to stay out of the way of traffic of those evacuating Mission Hills. I make it to the edge of North Hollywood and there is visible smoke around me and I sit there for a bit and just zone. I keep telling Zoe that everything will be OK. I notice a strange light in the sky and get worried, but then I realize it is that pre-dawn light. I turn the car back towards Sylmar High School. I am thrilled to see pre-dawn light because I know soon water dropping aircraft will soon be in the air.
Saturday, November 15 – 6:30am: The update hasn’t happened yet. We are getting impatient and feeling helpless. Finally around 7:00am, the update comes. Our information officer just has names of streets where there have been structures damaged that is all he can tell us. The street where our units faced is on the list but we feel confident that it isn’t at our end of the street. We sit back down and discuss what we are going to do. Find a hotel? And what about Zoe in the car? Around 8am, we decide we won’t head to a hotel and that we will put Zoe into the temporary shelter there on-site. I feel like the worst kitty mommy EVER because she will be there with barking dogs and away from me. But the heat outside and being locked in a car are worse than barking dogs. Around 8:45am, our neighbors (who we are not overly fond of) come over with their dirty shoes, walk on our clean blanket on the floor and blurt out “the park is gone, a complete and total loss. Out of a gut instinct reaction, both my father and I “bark” at them and they get the message that their news is not welcome, solicited, and they can move on. We agree that until we hear from the information officer we aren’t going to believe the “gossip”. (NOTE: What we didn’t know at this time is that the fire and police department had to rescue those who didn’t evacuate. And outside our park was CNN. CNN was interviewing those who had to be rescued and those who were rescued were telling CNN about the damage in the park. Those watching CNN were calling residents who had evacuated and telling them that the park was gone.) Our next update is at 10:45am – two more hours of waiting.
Saturday, November 15 – 10:45am: Designated time has passed and no update. Our information officer walks in and starts to write on a chalk board. He explains that part of the park is a complete loss and that he did his best to write down unit numbers of those that still standing. He explains what areas of the park are a complete loss. The area he describes isn’t near where we live in the park. There is a ray of hope and we cling to that until the next update at 2:30pm. At this point, food is free flowing in the shelter the outpouring of support from Sylmar businesses is incredible. We sit, periodically watch the TV and try to keep focused. We are tired, the shelter is more crowded and getting nosier. But at least we have each other.
Saturday, November 15 – 2:30pm: Yet again, no update. Around 3:00pm, the update comes. Our information officer has been to the mobile home park and has a list of 124 structures that have survived. My father had befriended the officer at the end of the last update and drawn a simple map of where my home was located. As the information officer is writing the list of the 124 structures, my father walks over to him and he recognizes my dad and tells him “it doesn’t look good.” The list is posted and our unit numbers are not on the list. This is the news we dreaded both our homes are gone. All I can remember is standing in my house saying “I’m not ready for this.” I start to sob. I am crying so hard that I can’t breath. An hour later and the tears are still flowing. I start to send text messages letting people know. I must admit that I am stunned that there are no responses. After a while the replies start to come along with the calls. 90% of the calls are welcome and about 10% are not welcome. Almost as soon as I realize I am no longer crying, I start to cry again.
Saturday, November 15 – 3:30pm and onward: The full reality is hitting us. Tears continue to flow. I walk to get a Diet Coke (it’s been many many hours since I’ve had caffeine) and I feel my body start to give out. I find my way to next to my parents set my head on a lap and start to sob. A mental health worker from Red Cross comes by to ask if I want to talk. I say “no”, but then I turn to my mother and say, “I was young when my important relatives died. And I haven’t lost you or Dad yet, the loss of my home and what I am feeling must be what loosing a parent feels like.” I cry harder. After some time, I am hungry. After learning so much about how the body functions in school, I realize that my body needs food. I get some food in me and feel a little better. We find a quiet spot in the gym and have a family meeting. Do we stay on at the shelter or do we find a hotel? After making some calls to local hotels and feeling like we are getting ripped off by the hotel rates, we sit there frustrated. The fire has spread north so the hotel options near Magic Mountain are unavailable to us due to road closures. Time Warner has set up internet stations and we start searching in the internet for hotels that will take pets AND are reachable due to the road closures. The results of the search are not good. In the meantime, I go to see Zoe. I want to make sure she’s OK. She looks terrified, is sweating, and has “smoke boogers”. I feel horrible that she has to stay in there as the dogs are barking like crazy. I find out that I could take her to an animal shelter where the dogs and cats are separated there is air conditioning and she’d be more comfortable. I think about it, especially if we are going to stay in the shelter. I go back inside the gym and mom is mentioning the Oakwood Apartments. She is going to call to see if there are furnished units available and how soon we could get into one. A woman overhears me talking about Zoe and she tells me that a Vet who works with Los Angeles County is there and if I want I can meet him and have him look at Zoe. I am thrilled and go to meet the Vet. Whew, I get word that Zoe is doing well. Then Mom tells me that the Oakwood’s has a two bedroom apartment available and that if we want it, it’s ours. We can be in the unit tonight. More phone calls go back and forth and we learn what our next step is in terms of paperwork with the Red Cross. Channel 4 (KNBC) does an interview with us and we learn a newspaper reporter wants to talk to us. Around 6:30pm, I sign paperwork to release Zoe from the temporary shelter and head to the car with her. We are leaving the high school and heading to the Oakwood Apartments near Universal Studios. On the way to the car, the newspaper reporter takes a picture of us. We look like hell, but after the picture is taken I comment that it’s the first picture of us embarking on our new lives. Just as we did to the high school, we line up the 3 cars and head south to the apartments. I am driving in a daze just focusing on getting to the apartment. I want a shower and quiet. The staff at Oakwood processes us as quick as they can and are so incredible supportive and helpful.
Little did we know that a "surprise" had been left for us on this day....information about the "surprise" is forthcoming.
