Yesterday morning I woke up early before the kids were awake and headed out the door for a run with Bella.  Out of habit we started on our favorite, hilly, 2 mile loop on our mountain.  It was a hard run.  Physically, it was fine, but emotionally it was rough.  As Bells and I ran along the dirt road we weren't surrounded on all sides by the usual tall, wild grasses, green sage brush and tall scrub oak trees that I love so much.  Instead, we saw a lot of charred, bare, blackened ground.  Instead of breathing in the fresh air I always revel in and brag to my friends, who live in the inversion area, about I was breathing in air that was sharp and acidic, air that stung my lungs when I breathed in too deeply. I also noticed that there were only a few deer, wild rabbits and marmots out and about when usually they are out by the dozens.  As we jogged along I started to count..1..2..3...4..5... houses that were burnt to the ground. My heart ached. It still aches.


It's hard to see our beloved mountain, our home, in such rough shape.

Last Tuesday Dave, the kiddos, the pups and I were heading home from a backpacking trip in the Uintas.  I'll have to blog about that backpacking trip sometime, it was fantastic and the first successful backpacking trip we have taken with all three kiddos in tow.  The children were all asleep, exhausted after all the fun and exercise, and Dave and I were making plans to grab pizza from our favorite local pizza place as we entered cell phone reception range again.  All of our sudden our phones started to go crazy, beeping over and over again to let us know we had many missed texts and calls from family, friends, coworkers, and people in our ward.  They wanted to know if we were safe.  Safe? From what? They were offering us a place to stay. Why would we need somewhere to stay? They were saying they were sorry.  Sorry about what?  I quickly called my friend Amber, who had left a message about being able to see the fire and being worried about us. Fire? What fire?  The news wasn't good.  Lightning had hit our mountain only a couple of hours earlier and a big fire had broken out and was headed straight for our house, if not already consuming it.  My heart sank.  My stomach clenched.


Dave called one of his friends and co-workers who frantically tried to find us current updates on the fire. And still, the news wasn't good. The fire was out of control-so out of control in fact- that it had started a firenado. Propane tanks were exploding. Houses, many houses, were burning.  Houses that were right by ours.

The more people we talked to the more we realized there was a high probability we didn't have a home anymore.


I looked over at Dave to see tears in his eyes.  In the 11 years I have known Dave I can think of only a couple of times I have seen tears in his eyes. I started to shake. I started to hyperventilate. I started to sob.  I was sobbing so hard I woke Emma and Ali up.  I tried to calm down so I could calmly explain what was happening to the girls without scaring them further.  I told them, that no matter what, we would be okay because everything that was most important to us, our little family, was safe and sound in the car.  Emma started to cry and asked, "But what about Coon (our cat)? He's part of our family."  How could I respond?  I started to cry again. We decided to say a family prayer right then and there in the car.  We prayed for our mountain, we prayed for our dear neighbors and we prayed for Coon. Even though I was still very scared, and even though I was still shaking uncontrollably I was filled with peace that yes, no matter what, we would be okay. I know the kids felt it too as they began to settle down.

As we finally made our way into our little town I dropped Dave off at the fire station to suit up (he's part of the volunteer fire department).  He was eager to get on a firetruck and head up the mountain to help and asses things. While Dave was suiting up I ran Canyon in to use the bathroom. It felt so weird to have to deal with simple things like taking my little guy to the bathroom when it felt like everything around us was falling apart. As we were coming out we passed a friend from our ward who is also a volunteer for the fire department.  He looked me in the eye and told me he hoped our house was OK.  I couldn't respond- I was too choked up and simply nodded thanks his way.




After dropping Dave off I had no idea what to do or where to go.  I briefly recalled my friend Amber saying they had set up a temporary shelter at the middle school.  Not knowing what else to do I headed there.  When I walked in it was dark (no power) and people were hustling to get things set up.  I was so happy when I was greeted by a familiar face, Heidi, I didn't know her well but I recognized her from church and as a teacher at my children's school and even as the mother of one of my favorite babysitters we use.  She took my kiddos under her wing and distracted them with games and books and food.  They quickly went from crying and scared to laughing and playing.  I was so grateful.

The time we were at the middle school is somewhat of a blur.  I remember the anxiety and the fear as I clung to my phone hoping to hear from Dave.  I remember calling some friends and asking them if they could come pick up my pups, who were having to hang out in the car, and being so relieved to see their familiar faces when they came to grab them.  I remember hugs from tearful strangers.  One sweet lady,  I don't even know her name, found me a towel, shampoo and conditioner so I could go shower (remember, we had just returned from backpacking).  She later returned with two garbage bags full of clothes for my kiddos. I wish I knew who she was so I could thank her.  I remember hearing rumors that my friend, Chrissy's, house had burned down and calling her.  She confirmed the bad news and we cried together on the phone. Her house had been the first to go. I can't even express how heartsick I am for her and her little family. Chrissy's son had actually been home alone when the fire started and they wouldn't let her up to go get him.  It's quite an amazing story of how he was able to make it out.


After a few hours at the middle school I still hadn't heard from Dave or heard any news on our house.  I was exhausted and overwhelmed as the press had made their way to the middle school.  Heidi offered me a place to stay and the kiddos and I took off.  Around that time my friend, Amber, text me that they were at the church with binoculars and could still see my house!  Could it be true?!  As we were driving back towards Heidi's house we passed by a couple from our ward, that work with the fire department and ambulance,  that were filling the fire trucks from the river.  I stopped to ask them if they had heard from Dave.  They confirmed that our house was still standing- the fire had burned right up to our deck and we didn't have a trampoline anymore- but our house was still standing.

I lost it. I started crying.... again.  I was crying so hard I almost threw up.  Not my finest moment.  I was relieved but also felt enormous, crushing guilt.  Chrissy's house, and many other houses, hadn't made it.




After the girls were asleep I made my way back to the living room where Canyon was quietly playing.  I sat in a rocking chair dazed while he played. It was well past midnight but I couldn't summon the motivation to put him to bed yet.  After a few minutes of his silent playing he put down the pirate ship he was investigating and said, "Mommy, I have to talk to you 'bout something. I sad. Our house burned down and Coonie is gone. I think I going to cry" My heart broke.  I had been so careful to keep the girls updated but didn't think even think about keeping Canyon informed.  I had no idea he had picked all of that up throughout the day.  Poor little guy, he still thought we had no home left.  After a little talk and a lot of snuggles he was out for the night.

Not too long after Dave finally got back for the night. We only had a few hours before we had to be up again (Dave was headed back to fight the fire again as soon as it was light) but we couldn't sleep.  We just laid there for hours trying to process everything that had taken place that day. It was a long night. I'm so grateful I had Dave by my side.

The next few days were more of the same... anxiety... fear... heartbreak.  The fire was threatening more homes.  On Wednesday I went and helped another couple pack up their valuables and evacuate their home. Our house was still very much in danger. The main fire was still going strong and there were several really bad flare-ups.  I watched with a friend through binoculars as another house on our mountain burned.  It was horrific.


Dave, bless him, spent 16+ hours a day up on the mountain fighting the fire.  I sure hope he writes down his experiences sometime because he has some pretty neat stories. He came across Russ, the man who lives in the house above ours, trying to battle 8 foot flames that were quickly approaching his house with only a bucket of water. Dave was able to help fend off the flames and save Russ's house. There is another sweet couple on our mountain who called Dave their guardian angel. When Dave wasn't working on the fire he was busy taking pictures of our neighbors houses and texting the pictures to them so they could see how their houses were. He knew they were worried and that pictures of their still standing houses might help eleviate some of that worry.



I sure married a good man.

I always figured, in case of an evacuation, we would just go stay with family- we have amazing family only an hour or two away-  but because Dave was fighting the fire everyday I couldn't leave.  We only had one car, the truck and motorcycle were stuck up on the mountain, and I was in charge of dropping Dave off, picking him up and finding us somewhere to sleep every night. Our ward became our family. I'm starting to cry as I remember all of the love and support we were surrounded with. We had numerous offers every night for a place to stay.  One morning I called someone in our ward, Kristine, who has kids close to my kids ages, to see if I could borrow some clothes for Canyon because he had had an accident in his only pair of pants and I had no way to wash them.  My purse was in our house so I had no way to go buy new clothes- or even food for that matter.  Kristine didn't even hesitate and offered us her basement to stay in. I was able to wash clothes, shower and feed and clean up my kiddos. While I was in the shower Kristine made me up a plate of grilled chicken, brown rice and a salad.  As I looked at the plate of food I realized I hadn't eaten in almost 48 hours. Kristine quickly became the friend I desperately needed at that time.

Over the week that we were out of our house we had people bring us food, clothes and offer to help in anyway possible.

I received hundreds of texts, emails, phone calls and facebook messages from family, friends, acquaintances and even strangers.  Each and every one of them meant the world to me.

A young woman in our ward brought me a stack of clothes.  Between those and borrowing a few pieces from Kristine that she found in her closet that would fit me I was set.

My sweet sister called me all the way from Germany.  When she found out Coon was missing she made up fliers and posted his information on several different missing animal sites.  She emailed the Humane society and found me the phone numbers of local shelters I could call.

I would often eat dinner at the fire station with Dave and the other firefighters when I would go to pick Dave up for the night.  One night some of his sweet co-workers from the ambulance sent us "home" with boxes of food- pulled pork, rolls, baked potatoes, granola bars, juice for the kids...

My parents took the kiddos home with them, even though Canyon was really sick, for a couple of days when the bouncing around and stress got to be to much for their little bodies.

Our sweet friends, who were watching our pups, sent us pictures and updates on our furry friends and assured us they loved having them over when we would call and ask if they could stay another night because the evacuation order still hadn't been lifted. They even let us stay the night with them one night and found me clothes to run a half marathon in that I had scheduled.

Emma and Ali's dance teacher brought over a card signed by all of the other little dancers and their parents and a $50 gift certificate for Walmart.

The businesses in surrounding areas sent food for the firefighters and residents.  Del taco, Papa Murphy's and even a Smiths from Wyoming sent hundreds of meals.

A dear, sweet lady in our ward gave me an envelope while in church (while we were still evacuated).  Inside was money to "help".

Firefighters from all over came to help fight the fire.



The Park City Performing Arts Foundation donated tickets, with VIP reception passes, to the Jewel concert to all residents effected by the fire and to all firefighters who helped fight it.

As you can see, we were well taken care of.  Even after we returned home we had several offers to come help us clean.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints left huge, industrial sized cleaning kits down by our gate and mailboxes for anyone who needed them. The southern baptist relief agency and red cross fed all residents lunch and dinner for the two days following our return home.  I thought that was a really nice gesture.  It was a huge stress reliever to not have to worry about food as we were trying to get our house back in order and it was good to be able to meet up with our mountain neighbors over meals to check in on each other and compare stories and damage.

Speaking of our neighbors, our dear, sweet mountain neighbors, they brought us over a new trampoline with a card attached that read, ""To the guardian angel of the mountain (aka Dave), thank you for working so hard to save so many of our homes under such difficult and dangerous conditions. We hope your beautiful family will find joy and a little bit of solace in your new tramp. With gratitude, your neighbors and friends." 

Russ, our neighbor above us, mentioned he took a picture of our house with flames all around it.  I plan on asking him for that picture and then printing it and framing it somewhere where we will see each and every day as a reminder of how lucky, blessed and loved we are.  As a reminder that prayers are answered and that God is mindful of our every need.  The week of the fire was one of the hardest weeks of my life but also one of the most inspiring and strengthening. People are good. God is good.

And Coon?  He came wandering home 10 days after the fire covered in soot with two little singed paws. Blessed. I kind of wish he could tell us his story.