Let Me Stand Next to YOUR Fire

The title is more than a line from a Jimi Hendrix song - it's real life here in San Diego today. As Sean over at The Most Significant Thing has observed, we all have our own fire. His is the Rice Fire, mine is the Harris Fire, I have friends that live near the Witch Creek Fire and still others that live near another fire who's name escapes me.

And no, the photo above is not of my fire. That would be the view from my back deck of the sunset yesterday through the smokey haze.

Southern California is brush fire and earthquake country. When I see flooding in the mid west and hurricanes in the gulf, I say to myself, "Those people must be crazy to live there". No doubt someone in Kansas is restocking their basement for tornado season and saying the same thing about us today.

Make no mistake about it, this is a serious situation - a nightmarish one for many - an utter devastation for some. But all of San Diego is not on fire - we aren't all huddled in the local school or stadium. It just looks like it on the news.

If you are born and bred in Southern Cal, you learn that every earthquake is not cause for panic.

Level One: The ground shimmys and you stop, look, listen and feel

Level Two: The ground shakes and you remark to a friend, "Whoa"

Level Three: The roar in your ears begins and you start to edge for a doorway (one of the safest places to stand in an earthquake).

Level Four: Things begin to rumble and roll and you back away from the windows, head for the exits and grab anyone within reach and yank them along.

For us personally, the fire this morning was a level two. I walked outside in the early morning darkness and saw the sky to the east glowing red. On the way to work, I took a detour to check things out.

Whoa.

Flames that had to be 50-100 feet high judging from how far away they were and yet how massive they still looked. People were pulled off to the side of the road, standing silently in the darkness, witnessing the fury of mother nature. I didn't take the camera as the thought of shooting photos just sort of seemed inappropriate to me. I guess I don't have much of a future in journalism.

The wife's employer gave people a paid day off so she stayed home to hold down the fort - glued to the news. I went in to the office and had the news feed running on the computer. The agreement was, if our neighborhood was issued a call for voluntary evac, I would come home immediately.

The wife and I chatted on the phone and traded e-mails every 45 minutes or so until being home alone with nothing but the news and a yard full of smoke was more than any sane wife should have to take. She called and I could tell by her tone that it was time to come home. So I did.

Its not like I was getting any significant amount of work done anyway. Most of my clients were not working today. Half the mortgage lenders were closed. Those that were open refused to fund mortgage loans until they could send out an inspector to make sure their collateral still exists.

So that is the status. We alternate between looking out the window, checking e-mails and the news and checking in with friends.

No doubt, more to come . . .