Before we went to bed Sunday night, my husband Billy and I looked at the latest fire information on local TV, spoke our prayers, and felt safe. We always said special prayers for our land, the other two families here, and for guidance, protection and direction in all things. It is a daily part of our lives to actively listen for the Divine voice, and follow the leadings. What would leave its mark in history as “Firestorm 2007” had barely begun. And “the witch fire,” one of the original fires that would merge with many others, was miles and miles away near the town of Ramona, and there was no information given about evacuating Highland Valley Road where we lived. Within a few hours we would be asked to trust our lives to that voice in the midst of a firestorm of flame and cinders, surrounded with no open roads or discernible way out.
That Sunday the wind had been blowing fiercely, the Santa Ana winds were gusting down the mountain and through the avocado grove, piling at our front door a thick layer of leaves. I had opened the windows, the wind had always given me a feeling of exhilaration; and I was happy to see the leaves dance with the fall season change. Our two cats were not as impressed, and Munchie and Angel hid under the couch until I got the message and closed the windows back down. My husband noticed a light layer of dust on the counter, and there was a slight smell like a campground cooking fire in the air.
Highland Valley road is on a ridge line above the San Pasqual Valley, near the San Diego Wild Animal Park. The sunsets and views from here are wonderful, and though both roads down the mountain wind and turn for miles, it seems to be the favorite route for weekend visitors on their way to the quaint little town of Julian and their famous apple pie. Situated as we are on the outskirts of the three towns of Escondido, Poway and Ramona, it seems that city officials don’t really know what area we live in, since on that fateful night of the fire, none of us on Highland Valley got reverse 911 calls to evacuate. I guess they thought the other area was taking care of it. But in the meanwhile, some kind of gap in the system left an entire area without warning.
My husband was in bed and I was in the living room on the computer. About 3 a.m. Monday morning, and I heard a distinct voice say, “we can’t hold it back any longer. You must leave.” I looked up quizzically and the adrenalin shot through my body - the house was surrounded by orange glowing smoke, and bright flames were racing toward the house from all sides, all in a circle about 300 feet away. I yelled, “Billy! The fire is HERE!” He shot out of bed, looked out the window, said, “Get dressed. You get the computers, I’ll get the cats.” We still had lights. I raced to the closet, praying for guidance, praying to stay calm. I pulled on an old Star Wars ”Jedi - may the force be with you” t-shirt and headed for the two laptops that have our business and book information on them. As a healer and stigmata-bearer, I had experienced many unusual things in my life, and the notes and information that came through those times of Divine connection was not to be lost. I remembered to pull the power cords out of the walls. I grabbed my purse. But I forgot my wedding ring. “Get in the car! NOW!” Billy shouted to me, as he threw the couch to one side to try to get the cats. As he continued to try to capture them to no avail, I yelled back to him, “we can’t wait, come now!” We both knew the choice we had to make, our hearts were breaking - he grabbed his wallet, his cell phone, our prayer book of The Divine Decrees and raced out the door, and jumped in the car.
He looked over at me and said, “which way do we go?” All around us was the flames. It was upon us now. I listened. My heart was racing, but my mind was calm. Go up the driveway, then head down Highland Valley to the I15 freeway. We started up the driveway, flames everywhere, we were evidently in a pocket, and it looked like the fires had been burning longer around us. Our homes are behind a large wooden gate, which opens by electricity. In the few moments it took to go from our house to the gate, the electricity had gone out, and it wouldn’t open. The car in front of the caretaker’s little trailer was gone, so we knew he had probably left. There were flames behind his trailer taller than his trailer. We couldn’t see our landlord’s house on top of the hill, and I prayed they were alright. I asked if we needed to go up there and get them. I got the answer “no.” They are an active but older couple, and I didn’t know how they could get out as quickly as was needed. But I was not compelled to go up. I trusted I was hearing what I needed to hear.
Billy pulled the gate open, and we headed down the road. It was an eerie sight. The smoke was so thick; you couldn’t see anything until you were upon it. We knew where the road was because the road was the only one place the fire wasn’t. It was a black strip through the orange flames. Every house I could see was a bonfire. Anyplace there was fuel, the fire was taking it as its own. I asked the Holy Angels to try to save our cats, and even our home if possible. I got the answer. “We will try our best.” We are newlyweds, and all of our wedding pictures, my original songs from when I was in the music business, all of my paintings would be gone. The statue of Mary that wept whenever Holy stigmata would happen, and the two Angel statues above the bed that did the same, all would be burned. How could they not be?
I would be happy to get out with our lives. I asked God simply for that, and prayed safety for all those around us. All material things can be replaced. I took comfort in knowing that every song had been played, and every moment was recorded in our hearts, and none of that could ever be lost, the energy of it continues forever in our mind and in the mind of God. In the midst of the fire, I smiled. All these thoughts racing through as fast as wildfire (I know what that means now). My husband said; “I can’t see the road. Hold on.” I said I left my wedding ring.” “It’s OK, he said, so did I.” “We’ll be OK,” he said. We passed by Bandy Canyon road, and we were again told by The Big Guy to keep going straight, down Highland Valley Road to the freeway. I wondered if we would be out of it after we got down the mountain.
Instead, it was just as bad if not worse there, and each home was another bonfire through the smoke. The heat inside the car from the flames was so bad I prayed our gas tank wouldn’t catch on fire. A white alb (my husband is a Priest) was hanging in the back seat. I grabbed it and emptied a bottle of Holy Water on it and we put it over our mouths to breathe through.
Now we had the swampy flatland on one side of the road, and a water treatment plant on the other. There was little room for error, and not being able to see through the thick, white smoke everywhere, we ran off the road at the intersection. Easily we moved the car back onto the road and continued navigating our way, gunning the car at times to make it through areas where the trees where on fire and hanging over the road. We came upon a car on the road, completely engulfed in flames, the Angels said no one was burning in the car. We got over as far as we could, and gunned it again. We were driving through the fire with one ear to the heavens, and one ear to the earth. We were almost to the freeway now, only about a quarter mile. The smoke was less here, and we only had to pass by a plant nursery and we would be free.
We briefly saw a horse trailer ahead of us, and then they disappeared into the smoke. We came upon people along the road, who had gotten out of their cars. “Is it safe to go the other way?” a man asked. “We can’t get through this way, the flames are over the road. We can’t get out.” The nursery was on fire. I saw a vision in my mind’s eye, how it was OK to drive through on the road, but that it must be quick, and I saw that people would panic as the flames blew through from one side to another over them, and I saw vehicles losing control and blocking the way, and then people could be hurt. It was like a TV screen before my eyes. What to do?
“Turn around, go back into the fire” I heard. What? I said it out loud, “Billy, turn around and go back into the fire.” My husband turned and looked at me. “What? Let’s just be sure you are hearing right. You are under a lot of stress. Go back into the fire? Are you sure?” “Yes!” I said, turn around now, go back up the hill and into the fire!” So we did. We hurried back into the thick smoke and flames as quickly as we had left them. “Are you sure?” Billy asked once more. “Yes! I’m sure!” I answered as we passed a power pole ablaze, the lines ready to drop. I knew that I was putting both our lives into the hands of Him who knew the way out, but was I confident enough in my ability to hear, for the calmness I prayed for was lasting even “under fire.”
I had seen healing miracles happen under my hands thousands of times, I had seen the new medical reports, pet scans and blood work of others who God had brought through life-changing times. Now my life and that of my beloved husband relied on only a few words. No one else was coming down the road. It was nearly impassable. Our eyes were tearing from the smoke. I thought in my analytical mind, “maybe it is so we can go down the other way, down Bandy Canyon.” Maybe that is why we were told to go back up. But that wasn’t the case. Exactly at the intersection between Bandy Canyon and Highland Valley were two fire trucks sitting in the road, near one of the few places the trees were still untouched.
We rolled down our window, and smoke billowed in, “turn around,” they said, “it’s the only way out.” “No, we were just there,” Billy said. The man got on his radio, and confirmed, “You’re right. There is no way out. Just sit tight here for a minute.” He came back with two bottles of water and cloth filter masks and said, “we can’t do anything else here, we are going to try to get down the mountain. Put your car in between us.” At that moment, a small pickup truck with Hispanic workers in the back of it careened off the road beside us and hit the back of the other fire truck. They were told to drive between the fire trucks too. We were going to leave in a few moments. We were going to be escorted down the mountain, with their full fire equipment and safety gear, including manual lights to check each crossing of the power lines. I knew this was the safe place God wanted us to be right now. My heart was thankful, but we were still sitting in the road in the midst of the fires.
The Divine voice came again. “You must move. There will be a flare up over the road in 5 minutes…” “Billy!” I said, “We have to go now! Tell them we have to move NOW!” Soon the voice said, “4 minutes…” The fireman knocked on our car and we rolled our window down. “We have to go now!” I shouted across my husband’s lap, We only have a few minutes!” The fireman seemed a bit taken back by my forcefulness, but assured me they are getting in their trucks now. On “2 minutes” we started moving, and slowly we caravanned down this alley of sorrow and hope. The fire raged onto the trees behind us. We continued safely through the orange smoke and flames until we had passed the nursery on the backside of Rancho Bernardo. We got onto the freeway. So many homes, many new constructions, had surely burned. But many would also be saved. I knew this would be a time of miracles for many people, and many stories of thanksgiving would occur this night.
We drove south since the North 15 was sealed off by the local police and we kept going all the way to a hotel in San Diego, coughing, praising God for our lives and making phone calls all along the way. Our wonderful landlords were safe, they had actually been nowhere near the fire, but had been up visiting in Los Angeles. Our caretaker had been with friends, and was not on the property. We called our families; none knew what had been happening. When we asked the hotel to book for a few days, we were told they could only promise a couple of days, because they were expecting a big convention in town. We told them things would be much different this week, and to expect an overload from people leaving their homes. They looked at us like we were crazy. I guess we were some of the first running from the fire. We collapsed on the bed, tried to get a grip on what just happened and then later bought some food and clothes, since all we had was literally 2 computers and “the shirts on our backs.”
The next day we booked a flight to New York, to stay with relatives. We boarded the plane carrying our laptops in a canvas health-food bag and our clothes in the Jedi t-shirt, with the sleeves tied into a knot to make a bag. Though people looked at us strange at first, when we had the chance to explain, there was always tears in their eyes, as they seemed to also understand how indeed “the Force” was with us, and how people are more important than things. I teased Billy, saying this is one way to get out of mowing the lawn, and how he was always after me to pack lightly for travel.
Two days went by, then three, and four. From my father-in-law’s TV we watched everything we could, and I went online to try to get information about our house or Highland Valley Rd. My high emotions about the status of the property were clogging up any information I could get from Divine sources. I felt everything was OK, as if a bubble surrounded our area. The news we heard wasn’t good. Neighbors above us had evidently been warned by friends to leave, but their bodies were found charred in the debris. The neighbors across from us had survived by jumping in their pool with towels over their head and watched as their house burned; others had driven their van into an empty field, and lived. Still, through it all, I held out hope for our little home, and especially our 2 kitties. Yet even from Google-earth, it looked like our home was gone, and no roof was apparent, just a white area. Everyone, including my husband, said I should just let it go, that nothing could survive what we had driven through. I tried to convince myself they were right, that it was just me being hopeful, and living my healing business mantra “Be realistic…expect a miracle!” So on the fourth day, I gave up the thought. A dear friend found us another place and was taking the steps to secure the rental for us, even volunteering to furnish it for us. Times like these truly show what is deep in the heart of each person, and will bring it to the forefront. Even as I see some looting homes, others are opening theirs up to strangers.
I had seen unHoly Angels in the forefront of the flames, I knew they delight in destruction. This fire was not “an act of God,” The Big Guy is all about love, not punishment, he doesn’t bring the bad stuff, but he desires to save us out of it. A few days before the fire, we were given an illustration about how we are all asked to be the mystic, to hear him for ourselves. He said, “As the arrow leaves the bow for your destruction, you will be told to move right, or to move left, and you must do so without hesitation and without question.” We had no idea this would be literal for us in just a few days. During a fire, everything changes in a second. We had to be open to change too, and go with it.
The call came later on the fourth day, from our landlords. “We are calling you from inside your house, it is here, everything is intact, and I put food and water out for your cats. Our house is still here too and is fine, and even the caretaker’s trailer. Everything around us is gone. Part of the grove is damaged. It is a miracle.” I cried with amazement, when the Angels say they will try their best, there is a lot to that!
The fire burned a circle around our land; most everything around us is devastated. Friends say our home doesn’t even smell like smoke on the inside. I can’t wait to return, we are still in New York, and the water and power will be back on in another week or so. We have many friends who have offered to help us with our needs, which are basically just giving our pets love until we return.
It is unreasonable that our place exists, just as it was unreasonable to turn around and drive back into the fire. I have learned much from this experience. I have learned that seeing with the literal eyes can sometimes distract from seeing the real truth through the eyes of faith. I have learned that Divine direction is always there and that we can hear it even in times of ultimate stress. And I have learned that contrary to stereotype, there are men who will ask for directions – and listen to their wives even when they are told to drive back into the fire! Through this experience, I have run the gamut of emotions: joy, sadness, melancholy, loss and elation. For me, it is similar to the stigmata, almost a resurrection while still in the body, a rebuilding from the inside out. There are many digging out from the ashes. People will either choose to praise God for their life and the lives of their loved ones, or blame him for the losses that have occurred.
As I see it, there are only two choices, love or fear. Love moves us forward, to rebuild, to have hope, to regrow. Fear stagnates and freezes us, and keeps us from being the true potential we were created to be, and having the beautiful lives we were meant to have. We all have defining moments in our lives, and the San Diego fires have been defining moments for many people: for the heroic firefighters who guided so many to safety, for the police who helped keep people calm and directed their exits, for all those who listened to that voice inside telling them, “go this way or go that way.” May we be thankful for our lives, and see everything else as just an additional perk along the way. Everything will be OK. Even now, can’t you hear that voice inside you telling you that? Believe me, you can trust that Voice with your life, we did.
***Closing Update – we are back and everything is so surreal, people sifting through the ashes of their homes while others are merely cleaning their windows. There is melancholy in the air, and much melancholy and mixture of the full spectrum of emotions. It is like southern California has been through a war, and are experiencing post-traumatic stress syndrome. Update on our home – it is in perfect shape, as are our kitties! There is burn everywhere else, and definite lines clearly seen around the perimeter of our home. Even though (didn’t we keep the Angels busy!) we left 2 one-gallon containers of gasoline for the lawn mower on the front porch, right against our home. And we have water, and even the power is back on. So now I am back at work continuing to fulfill the commission The Big Guy gave me, “Heal my children, help them remember who they are,” with hardly a bump. God is good!
