Wildfire Week

It's been an intense week in and around Boulder, Colorado.
As anyone with a television now knows, fire crews are in what is hopefully the final stage of controlling the massive wildfire that erupted on the Labor Day holiday.
Over 6000 acres have burned and at last count 169 homes have been destroyed, including several belonging to friends and acquaintances. Thousands of families have been evacuated. Hundreds of firefighters continue to put out hot spots while trying to gain full containment.
Some dear friends who live just a mile or so up the mountain were evacuated and thankfully came to stay with me (Jim left the day the fire broke out for a business trip to the UK).

We spent the week watching and waiting together.
The images have been sobering, to say the least.
Thirty years ago when I lived in Pine Brook Hills, I was a member of the volunteer fire department and helped fight yet another fire that broke out one warm, dry Sunday in October. It's nothing to mess with, believe me. Only one home was destroyed that afternoon but dozens were saved by what was primarily an all volunteer fire department. And although the county's contract with the slurry bomber had expired the end of September, one happened to be at Jeffco (now Rocky Mountain Regional Airport) refueling following a fire in Wyoming. It made all the difference.
The Fourmile fire was also fought from the air. Eight air tankers and at least three helicopters were engaged. It's the only way to gain control of a fire in rugged mountain terrain...especially when so many homes are involved. The crews on the ground and the pilots in the air have been amazing.
While the majority of homeowners and residents of the burned and evacuated areas have shown gratitude to the firefighters and local authorities, there are always a few selfish assholes who never fail to amaze me.
Thirty years ago, a neighbor returned to her home after what amounted to maybe an 8 hour evacuation and whined about the power having been turned off and food in her freezer melting. I was somewhat incredulous and snarled, "You should be grateful your food wasn't cooked!"
She turned and walked away. I still see her driving around town and remember.
This week, I've watched (on tv) countless evacuees complain about the "inconvenience" of the evacuation and the lack of information coming from the authorities.
This still pisses me off.
One, because those evacuated were ordered to do so not only for their own safety, but also that of the firefighters trying to save their homes.
And two, because we had better information about this fire and its status than ever before.
We LIVE in the age of instant communication.
We have cell phones, lap tops, Twitters, Tweets and Texts!
Never before has so much information been available in a crisis.
But as anyone who lives in the burn areas of the mountains certainly knows, cell phone service as well as emergency radio service for the first responders and fire crews, is not only poor, it's often non-existent.
This situation alone can compromise the safety of the firefighters - many of whom either lost their homes or left their homes in other states to come and fight this fire.

And let it not go unsaid that I've heard several complaints from people not immediately threatened by the fire, about the smoke, ash, traffic and noise from the slurry bombers and helicopters rumbling over their heads.
It's just that I prefer to think about those who no longer have a home from which they can listen to the rumble from the helos, or wipe away the fallen ash.
Shame on anyone complaining about their inconvenience when so many have lost so much.
And who can forget where they were 9 years ago on September 11, 2001?
Over 300 firefighters lost their lives when the World Trade Center collapsed.
One, Bob Minara, was married to an old high school classmate of mine, Paula.
Today, I'm remembering them.
And every day, I wonder what we would do without these brave souls.