On Saturday, June 21, 2012, during a rare burst of energy in this pregnancy in the heat of the summer, we went on a family bike ride along the Pikes Peak Greenway, a stretch of wide sidewalk, mostly paved, that runs north/south through the city all the way up to Palmer Lake. As we were riding past Colorado College, we saw a plume of smoke along the ridge. It was hard to tell where exactly it was positioned, and what exactly it was. We heard and saw the army of fire engines start to exodus the city on their way to battle what would soon develop into the Waldo Canyon Fire, a nightmare for our city. Within days, the wildfire had spread south to Highway 24, north to the Air Force Academy, and east…straight into Colorado Springs.
We could hardly believe how quickly our city turned into an apocalyptic war zone. With thick smoke choking the air and ashes falling from the sky, it made me think we were living in the path of a volcano. The cause of the fire is still unknown, but the devastation will be long remembered. What will also be remembered, however, are the heroic efforts of the firefighters from so many other states, and so many other fires, who came and battled the blaze in 14 hour shifts, the police and military who helped the 30,000+ people evacuate their homes and protected the properties while they were away, and the paramedics and volunteers who helped run the Red Cross shelters and organized all of the donated items to help so many families rebuild their lives. It is also amazing, that in such a large-scale effort, and with such an unpredictable fire, that only two people were killed and no one was injured.
One night, we went to King Soopers after dinner, and when we came out, we could see the flames burning through homes to the west of I-25. There was no way to hide something that scary from our kids. We had several long talks with them about the fire, and what it meant. I could tell they were feeling the tension, especially when the fire changed course so suddenly and swept down the hillside into the Mountain Shadows subdivision and the entire city had to consider the possibility of evacuation. The kids all suffered from irritability, spontaneous crying, upset tummies, and restless sleep. It took a concerted effort for Lord Herndon and I to comfort them and avoid talking about it too much but answer their questions in a comforting, and honest, way. We tried to only talk together about our own fears when they were in bed. We prayed with them constantly and taught them how to pray for all of the people who were affected.
But what helped calm them the most was giving them a purpose. One day, I had them make huge Thank You posters for the firefighters, and two batches of cookies. (I later discovered how difficult it is to actually give someone cookies in this day and age, but we were finally able to distribute them.) We also gathered up food items and took them down to the Care and Share facility to donate to the evacuees and the fire crews. And the best day was July 4, in the evening, when we gave up the idea of fireworks and went downtown to an intersection along the route where the fire crews would drive as they switched shifts from the day to the night. An impromptu parade took place there every morning and evening, with local families holding posters, waving flags, and cheering each truck that passed them. It was incredibly emotional to see the firefighters’ soot-blackened faces as they shook hands with people and waved to the families. I know that the shining light in our kids’ eyes meant that they understood what a hero was.
