Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Eighty
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What is that noise? An evacuation alert.
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Another one. It’s 5:30 am. The browser won’t load. Wait. I’m not connected to the internet. My phone isn’t charging. The power is out.
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I use my phone to find the flashlight on the wall and then take it into the bathroom to get ready.
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Maybe I can have more reception if I go outside. I need to text my parents and figure out what’s going on.
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He’s checking people out in the dark. Lanterns line the stairway. I ask him what he knows because I don’t have cell service. “AT&T?” “Yep.”
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I walk to the entrance and stare across Highway 29 and see a long line of fire. It’s to the north and east. I prepare myself to not have a home to return to.
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We drive down to Yountville to find service and wi-fi to figure out the plan. We can’t stay here.
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I shouldn’t have checked my email.
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Texts and more texts but I can’t bring myself to answer them right now.
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I remind myself that we are all just stressed out and acting out in different ways. We don’t mean the things we say.
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I tell people that I’m not worried about the loss of things. I’m worried about how I will help the kids navigate their emotions about all of this. Two evacuations in two months. She reminds me that kids are resilient.
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She has a surprise. The patches arrived. Little things.
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I look at the light in the restaurant
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The restaurant is on fire. Burned to the ground.
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He sends us pictures of him standing on the back deck. I am not a crier but I am teary-eyed now.
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She tells me that ours was spared but there are several others that were not as fortunate. i think about survivor’s guilt and what it will mean to return and see the damage.