The lights blazed onto the field, illuminating the hopes and dreams of the team. The crowd laughed and ate burgers, shared in the festivity of the evening, and cheered with every hometown play. The announcer boomed the score, highlighting the hometown heroes. The game ended and the air cooled, the sweaters came out, and everyone went home, reveling in the warmth that only small town communities can provide. There was not an inkling that within 24 hours our small community would be forever changed.
Morning came far too early for us that day. I was leading worship for our section in Ukiah that morning. I rushed through my routine, scattering clothes and makeup all across my bathroom and bedroom. I hollered the list of chores I expected to be completed over my shoulder to the kids as I stumbled up the stairs, one heel on and one still in my hand. A quick goodbye to my in laws with whom we lived, and I collapsed into the front seat of our car, grateful to be on my way.
We stopped by the church to pick up the keyboard and my portable sound system, a mic, and a cord. It meant putting the back seat down and maneuvering the keyboard in, wedging it against the passenger front seat, and we were off for the hour long drive.
I’d wrestled with the worship set list that day. I wasn’t feeling it, and I tried a few variables, but I couldn’t shake the songs I felt the Lord had put on my heart. The event began, and I led Even So Come, Lord I Need You, and then Let It Rain. The missionaries spoke, and hearts were stirred. During lunch, Zach and I had to meet with our section presbyter and the presbytery board as we were undergoing the oral interview required for Zach to be a Licensed Minister with the Assemblies of God. Since he’s been in full time ministry in our area for over 20 years, and I have been for almost 15, it was a relaxed interview, filled with reminiscing and a few poignant testimonies of how God has sustained us through the rough points in our ministry.
We left encouraged and excited. I had talked Zach into going to Santa Rosa to go on a date. We used to have weekly date nights, but hadn’t held to them since we moved to become pastors In Hidden Valley in May.
After a relaxed dinner at Red Lobster, we toyed with the idea of going see a movie, but I wasn’t feeling too great, and so we decided to head home. We were just leaving Santa Rosa when I noticed a large plume of smoke, and after getting on Facebook, I found out that there was a small fire on Cobb Mountain. After living in California for a significant portion of our lives, we are accustomed to fire season and also drought, and so we weren’t super concerned. However, by the time we drove over Mt. St. Helena and drove through Middletown, we realized that it was more serious as we could see the flames coming down the hill behind the high school. We determined that we should open our church as an evacuation site and so we headed there to open it up and get bottled water ready for whatever evacuees may show up. I decided that since we didn’t know how long Zach would be down there he should have his own vehicle so I had Moyra come by on her way home from work and pick me up. I got his truck and drove it down the church, and by then he greeted me and suggested that as a precaution, I should go back home and ask the kids and my inlaws to pack a bag. “Just in case.” I walked into the house, told my father in law what he had said and he began to set about getting his bag in the car. I told Moyra and Zachary to pack a bag and get the dog food ready to go, headed into my room, grabbed a bag, and attempted to figure out what of the clothes strewn across my room I should pack. Right then my phone rang. The tone of my husbands voice on the other end said everything. “Get out LeAnne! Get the kids, get my parents and GET OUT NOW It is COMING YOUR WAY!” I knew immediately we didn’t have much time, so I yelled at the top of my lungs, “WE GOTTA GO! LETS HEAD OUT!” and raced up the stairs. I got Moyra, Zachary, and our two dogs into our new to us vehicle, a gift from the kids grandparents, a freshly serviced Oldsmobile. I looked at Moyra, who had just gotten her drivers license the month before and told her I loved her. My father in law asked me where we were going and I told him I had no idea. Our plan had been to go to our church, but I knew from what Zach said that wasn’t an option. I called him and asked and he said to go to the our friends, the McQueens in Kelseyville. I yelled the answer to my father in law, and bent down to Moyras window. “Get to the McQueens. I don’t care how or what you have to do to get there, but just get there. Zachary, you help her, keep the dogs, and I’ll see you there. God is with you.” I watched as she drove down the driveway. I looked back toward the garage where my father in law was trying to persuade my mother in law to get in the van, and I saw flames licking the hillside behind the house. I knew then that this was the real deal. I rushed back to help get my mother in law in the car. I ran toward my own car and found it hard to close the door because the wind was blowing like a whirlwind around me forcing the car door open. I gripped it with both hands, and slammed it shut. I started the car and raced down the driveway. I glanced in my rearview mirror but could only see a haze of smoke and an eery orange glow. My father in law pulled over because he needed to follow me, and we began what I would later call the drive from hell.
We descended down Bowcher Lane onto the main road that leads to the highway. Huge chunks of ash and embers were falling from the sky. There was no one directing traffic or any fire personnel. We realized later that they were all still in Middletown and Cobb. There was no way for me to tell which direction was best. I could either go straight, or I could turn right and go into the gated community. I decided to go straight. Less than a few hundred feet that direction and I realized why cars were turning around. There was fire everywhere. I followed the lead of the other cars and hooked a U turn, and my father in law followed right behind me. We turned into the gates and began what what the longest 2 miles I have ever driven. It was traffic jam of epic proportion. Everywhere you looked there were flames, small spot fires being ignited by falling ash and embers, transformers blowing, and what felt like gale force winds. I watched as the hills above us burned, and across from us the fire raced like a dragon, consuming everything in its path. At this point, I switched from praying silently to praying out loud. I was confident that if we could just make it to the highway we would be fine. However, after an hour or so and finally reaching the highway, I realized that the journey had just begun. The field across from the community was blazing. It seemed as though everywhere I looked there was fire. There was one brave CHP officer directing traffic. There was only one direction to go and that was to the right. The hillsides on the either side blazed orange. And the traffic was at an almost standstill. After inching forward bit by bit I realized that all it would take was one ember or spark hitting the side of the road, and we would be caught in the middle of the firestorm. I had received several phone calls, and I had made a few as well, but I suddenly just felt like I needed to steady my spirit. I began to try to sing a worship song. Of all the songs I could sing, I could only remember the lyrics to an old hymn. “tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.” I sang it quietly. I sang it loud. And then I called my parents and told them I loved them. I called my best friend and calmly told her that I needed her to make sure she took care of my children and I gave the name of our insurance agent, and let her know I was making two other people aware of our wishes since I knew that our will had been left behind. I had just enough time to grab a few pairs of underwear for my husband, and a shirt and pair of leggings for myself. That was it. That was what I left with. No passport, no birth certificates, nothing. I called my former employer and explained quickly that I needed her to be a witness to my wishes, and then another family friend who also is an insurance broker so I knew he would get information quickly and be able to testify if necessary. Then I put in on Facebook so that it was in writing.Email and text were no longer working at this point, and I was unable to dial out. I began to pray, asking the Lord to forgive me, to make sure I was ready in case the worst happened. Which, with the fire literally everywhere I looked, didn’t seem too illogical. It was so hot that even with my AC cranked all the way, I could still feel the heat. By this time, the well of panic had been squelched and an inexplicable peace settled over me. I kept glancing in the rear view to make sure my father in law was behind me and he had stayed right on my bumper until about the town of Lower Lake where another car cut him off.
Hours later, we finally pulled into our friends driveway.
Some have been under the impression that we all had bags packed. While Zachary was able to bring a backpack, the rush to get out meant that even the bags we took were not well packed. In his, a pair of shorts, a pair of shoes, and that was about it. In Moyra’s, she grabbed her laptop bag. Mine held 3 pairs of underwear, a shirt, and leggings. No toothbrushes, makeup, deodorant, or medications. My inlaws still had a bag packed left from the Rocky Fire but my mother in law had removed all her clothing from it. They barely had time to grab her weekly medications that are necessary since her stroke last year. The glucose monitor, the blood pressure monitor, gone.
Some have stated that the felt we overreacted. The pictures of our home, burned to the ground save for the brick exterior wall upstairs tell a different story. So too, the fact that a neighboring home had burned to the ground by
6:03 pm, and we were leaving our property after
5:45 pm.
That day was the catalyst for a new era in our family. Do we still trust God? Do we still declare that He is good? Do we attribute this to Him? Or do we acknowledge that what He allows, while not always understandable, is for a greater purpose than we can imagine? Daily, sometimes hourly and minute by minute, we make the choice. We CHOOSE to trust. We CHOOSE to praise. We CHOOSE to rejoice, not in our loss, but in the HOPE that we have because of WHO GOD IS.
By the next day we knew our church was gone. By Monday, we knew our home was gone. By Tuesday, we knew our lives would never be the same.
From the ashes, we have found friendships that have sustained the flames. Family that is stronger than ever. Generosity, provision, and blessing from amazing people. We have found peace in the midst of the unknown, and we have found FAITH forged in fire that is more refined, more real, and more IRON STRONG than ever before. We've learned what it means to be "receivers", which is a relatively new and sometimes difficult thing. To understand that we need help means a new level of humility and a new level of gratitude. We believe that more than ever we have an opportunity and privilege to share the hope we have in Jesus. The peace that passes all understanding. And through it all...we declare that our God is good.
