Out of the Ashes - Allowing for Transformative Compassion

This story may trigger emotions if you've been in an event where lives and/or property were lost. The title was inspired from Gregg Braden's "Ancient Essenes' Message on the Three Words From 2500 Years Ago" video on YouTube.

1. Write a creative nonfiction piece about something you're grateful for.

The call came on my cell phone around 12:45 PM. I was at work, on a lunch break.  The voice on the other end of the phone said, “Don’t even bother coming home. You won’t be able to.” That’s not a call you want to receive. Ever. But on 30 December 2021, this is the call I received from a neighbor in my apartment complex in Louisville, Colorado.  What happened next, happened swiftly. Today I am in awe of just how swift plans went into action. Within seconds the enormity of that call began to wash over me and for the next three days, my life turned completely upside down. 

For most of the country, it was a day to prepare for New Year’s Eve get-togethers. But for those of us living in Louisville and Superior, this would be a vastly different day. We were getting ready for a winter blast coming that weekend. High winds were expected. We’d experienced them before, but nothing like this. And then a fire broke out in Superior on Marshall Road. 

When my co-workers received the news, they went into action. One got in touch with the fire department. The first thing on my mind wasn’t my personal documents, clothes, furniture, books, computer, or stereo equipment. It was my two cats. My co-worker asked the fire department if they could please be on the lookout for my cats. He gave them my apartment address. OMG my cats. My neighbors were busy getting their three dogs and themselves out of their apartment, otherwise they would have kicked the door down to get to my cats. But the smoke and fire raging just across the street from our apartments sent up such a black haze, that they could not even see to get to their car and get out much less get over to my apartment.  My neighbor had set up cameras inside their apartment. She sent me a video from their cameras showing their apartment filling with smoke. Chances were all the rest of the apartments in our building were filling with smoke as well. Her words on the phone and the video were enough. I did not go home. The roads were blocked off anyway. My mind could not take it all in.

With winds upwards of 100 mph that day, we knew it would be bad. But just how bad was yet to be seen. I came out front after my break. But I was pretty much non-functional. I watched an SUV narrowly escape a lamp post as it snapped in two not 20 feet in front of our store.

I was working in a store on the 29^th Street Mall in Boulder that day. Our district manager just happened to be in the store on an unannounced visit just as I received the news. He had come up from Colorado Springs. Both he and our manager went into action, telling co-workers to get home and get somewhere safe as they began shutting the store down. I stayed in the back room as panic took hold of me. Where was I going to go?  Within minutes of hearing the news, our area manager said, “Don’t worry about where you are going to stay tonight. I’ve booked you a hotel for the weekend. It’s just a few blocks over.”  He told me he could walk me over to the hotel, it was that close by. What WERE we thinking? Walk? What? With 80+ mph winds? But those thoughts had not come up yet. I was elated to have a place to stay for the weekend. Somewhere between 3 and 4 that afternoon, the Governor declared a state of emergency for our area. But I was oblivious to that. It turned out to be the worst fire in our state’s history. Especially regarding structural damage.

I gathered up my things. I was not dressed for the upcoming snows and below-freezing temps. My snow boots were near the front door of my apartment. The area manager wanted to escort me over to the hotel, however the 105 mph winds blew me back a few yards. I am of petite stature, so I didn’t stand much of a chance at getting to the hotel in one piece. He had to turn around, run back, grab me, and hover over me just to keep me from blowing across the street. We decided to see if we could get back to the underground parking lot where my car was. He wanted to drive me, but we decided it would be best to get my car over to the hotel in case I needed it. He would walk back to the store to finish up business there. He wasn’t necessarily a tall man, though taller than me, for sure. But he was stocky. When he grabbed me, I felt the impact of his arms and the wind at the same time. I somehow knew, at that moment, that I would be okay. 

I’m not sure how we made it to the hotel. I was frantic and really should not have been driving. But we found it. He checked me into my room. I hugged and thanked him. I began immediately calling friends and family. Did I say I was grateful? What was our area manager doing in our neck of the woods? Unannounced? Our manager may have known he was coming. I sure didn’t. But his actions that day were unprecedented, and appreciated, to say the least. 

I was on high alert - watching the news and waiting to hear from the fire department to see if they found my cats. We are attached at the hip. I am a third-generation cat person. My aunt was known as a cat whisperer. She had to have gotten it from her dad. For those of you with animals, be it a horse, a dog, or any other domestic animal – those relationships matter. They are our confidants, our roommates, our life companions. These two had been with me for a decade - since they were kittens. We’d forged a very strong bond. They’d, somehow, stayed with me during thick and thin. We were experiencing the thinnest of thin on this day.

I did not eat that night. The room was cold. I crawled under the covers, in my work clothes, and watched the news as surrounding areas turned into ash. Then I tried to distract myself with cable. Reruns of Gilmore Girls helped. I was on the phone a lot that night with my mom. She lives in Hollywood, CA and was 89 yrs of age at the time. I do not remember what we talked about that night, but her words and humor meant the world to me. Somehow just knowing she was on the other end of the phone meant a lifeline for me. And I was not even raised with her. Another story for another time!

By the time I felt like getting something to eat, all the kitchens were closed for the night. The front desk said one might be open but it’s in another part of the building. Like WAY over on the other side.  I ventured out, got lost, and almost went out a side door that did not have a handle on the other side. The winds were bad enough, but the temps had to be hovering at or below freezing.  It was snowing. I tried room service but that was a no-go. I did not eat that night. And I slept in my work clothes. Grateful to have a heavy sweater with me and a room to myself - with a bed and shower.

I don’t remember what time I drifted off to sleep but I know it was after 2 AM. Sometime during the night, I felt something near my left hip. Sebastian. I thought I was dreaming. Except, I was wide awake. He is a massively large black and tan cat with a white vest.  Part Maine Coon, part Norwegian Forest Cat. His presence next to me literally woke me up. How can that be? His spirit spoke to me, “We are okay.” They say that when you lose an animal, it is not unheard of to have phantom memories. Was this one of those? It certainly seemed real to me?  I wanted to believe him. But doubts crept in.

Since I was awake, I said a prayer for he and ‘Chita (his sister) and tried to go back to sleep. But that was not going to happen. Friday morning I found my way to the dining room and had a bite of breakfast. A very strange thing happens when people around you discover devastating events are taking place. Two tables over a young man from out of state came over and gave me a hug and wished me well. He had heard me telling the waitress what was happening. Hotels were experiencing an influx of not just out-of-towners, but residents - flocking to Boulder to get away from the fires. The waitress left a note on her receipt that gave words of encouragement and comfort. I left her a big tip!

Friday is a blur. I didn’t eat much that day either, other than breakfast. I know I talked to a few friends, but I think I just tried to take a shower, put the same clothes back on, and tried to figure out what to do. There really wasn’t much I could do at that moment in time, except pray. For us all.

The young couple who called me at work kept in touch with me. They had gone to an Air B & B in Meade – a town about 26 miles northeast of Boulder. Without waiting for a return comment from me, they announced, “We are coming to get you Saturday afternoon. We might be able to get to our apartments to get a few basic needs, but more importantly to find your cats.  There’s no need for you to stay in that hotel. We are coming to get you and you are staying with us until we can figure this out.” Another unprecedented but highly welcome gesture. I put up a fight but apparently, not strong enough. They were making more sense than I was at the time. 

We were 8 degrees above zero on Saturday. We took off to get groceries, toothbrushes, winter underwear, and boots. Tennis shoes do not do well in these temps or the snow. Then over to the apartments. I’m not sure if we were supposed to go inside. No electricity. No water. And highly toxic air. This was at the heart of the pandemic, so we were all wearing masks. Still, the toxic air from thousands of buildings and homes having gone up in flames was rough to work in.  The flames were relatively out by that Saturday – at least in our area. But smoke damage nailed our apartment complex. 

The young couple went to their apartment first. Then we went over to mine. The eeriness of walking into my apartment that day has never left me. I had decorated a bit for Christmas. It did not look like Christmas at all in there.  More like a war zone. Smoke and soot were on and IN everything, including all my shoes and my snow boots. They were all now unwearable. I was grateful we stopped to find snow boots. The balcony furniture had blown away and what was left of it was upside down completely covered in dirt and soot. The balcony door is off its hinge. 

The first thing we saw when we opened the door – were footprints. Big ones. Firefighters had been there. They never found the cats. I called their names the minute I got inside. No answer. I searched the bedroom first. There was a lump under the blankets and sheets. I touched it. It was Sebastian. He let out a garbled ‘meeew.’ The happiest sound in my life. The kids and I got him quickly into his carrier. I called out to ‘Chita, his sister. No answer. My neighbors called out to her. No answer, I started looking in all her hiding places. I knew them all. She was nowhere to be found. After several minutes in near zero temps, we decided we’d best leave. It was just too cold and we could not stay in there another minute. Just as we started to head out, I shouted “Wait a minute.” I remembered one other hiding place. I ran over to open a corner cupboard in the kitchen that went way back in under the counter between the stove and the sink. She let out a “meow.” We’d found her!! But my arms were too short to reach her. Instinctively my neighbor’s boyfriend got down on his back and reached for her. He grabbed her and pulled her out. I had her carrier ready. They were both alive. Sebastian was right – they were okay. However, I still needed to get them to the vet to have their lungs checked out. On our way out, I noticed their water was covered in soot and dirt. They were smart enough not to drink it. They were smart enough to hide. 

We had to get a cat box and litter, food for the pups and cats, food for us, water, and other necessities – and then it was a road trip with three dogs, two cats, and three adults to the Air B & B in Meade. They were unable to find any other place closer plus we needed to get out of the toxicity of the air.

The following weeks and months were a whirlwind moves. My insurance company cashed me out after they performed an assessment. I had just bought new furniture but did not think to change the coverage. Unexpected expenses came up. This was not good.

Louisville is a charming town, and this set of apartments was away from train noise, away from traffic, yet it is centrally located close to Boulder, Denver, and my favorite shops in Superior on Marshall Road. But at that moment in time, nothing was charming about it. All the condos and townhomes just east of us – gone. Nothing but ash. Up by Harper Lake and the McCaslin area where there were more gorgeous homes. Gone. It was another two years before I could go into Louisville or Superior and not be overwhelmed with emotion. At one point I had considered a transfer to San Diego or Oceanside, CA. I had a cousin there. I took some time off in May of that year to visit him and check out the area. But I discovered Colorado is my home. Time to get back and get on with life as best as possible. I was grateful to my manager for her patience as I worked through whether or not I wanted to transfer to another store.

I didn’t lose my home that day. But in a sense, it kind of felt like it. I lost nearly everything inside my apartment. The smell of smoke in or on furniture or drapes or other items never leaves even after things have been cleaned. Watching the moving company throw out my new couch, new carpets, bed, blankets, sheets, and anything cloth or electronic was rough. I just about lost it when they threw out a gorgeous Zuni wool blanket – a gift from a dear friend. A beautiful long wool coat. Lamps. Kitchen items like toaster, blender, crock pot - even my spices all had to go. My computer died. I managed to save some files but lost others. Albums, books, CDs, and DVDs never got cleaned. Most of the money from insurance had to be used for moving expenses and storage fees. The Marantz receiver, bought new in 1975, received professional cleaning, but I was told it needs an entirely new overhaul. It sits in a box. I cannot part with it, yet.

I had been near two devastating fires in Colorado Springs where we were put on notice, but never needed to evacuate. Thanks to quick-thinking neighbors, we were able to stay a little ahead of the game. We could not move back in. Our apartments were uninhabitable. 

After a week in the Air B & B, we all eventually went our separate ways. Neighbors on either side of me had left.  I ran a purifier inside my apartment for a solid week before I went in to clean it out. It was barely tolerable to work there due to extremely low temps and toxic air, but I was able to get it cleaned – as best I could. We were given a reprieve on our leases, though not before legal advice was brought in.  

So many people helped us that day. Thousands of animals were lost that day. But many were saved with the help of neighbors and friends. I am deeply and forever grateful to all who tirelessly worked to help us and are still doing so as residents rebuild homes, rekindle friendships, and work through physical, mental, and emotional loss. Our little towns of Louisville, Superior, and surrounding areas made amazing strides.  Today the beauty of these towns is only surpassed by the fortitude of those who rose to the forefront to offer their time, talent, and kindness. We are grateful to you all. 

For those of you wanting more details, you can Google Marshall Road fire or look it up in Wikipedia or YouTube.