FIRE IN THE WIND

I don't live inside a mansion filled with rooms
With trellises and white horses
On fancy cliffs above the moon
Above the sea

I always knew that someday
I would leave my house
Cause I would die
Or I would move
I never knew my little house
Could soon leave me

But I was wrong
And by the dawn
We were surrounded by a firefight
And the battle lines were drawn

My town is small
Compared to others where I've lived
Like New York City
Where it glows
And never slows unless it snows
And clogs the streets

I always knew that someday
I would leave my town
Another job
Or life would gnaw
I never thought my little town could soon leave me

But I was wrong
And by the dawn
We were surrounded by a firefight
And the battle lines were drawn

And then
Our tired minds were strong
Our little town was hunkered down
They tried to save our homes
There were drum lines by the river
The troops were all sent in
The sky was red and
And racing down the canyon
There was fire in the wind

A man knocked on the door
He said there's time but not much more
I grabbed the photos and I loaded
Thirty years of life into the car

Around our town
The fire raged for several days
And in the haze no one was phased
Everything downtown was closed except the bars

Then it turned
And there were stars
We were astounded by the morning light
Revealing all the scars

And then
Our tired minds were strong
Our little town would not break down
Though some would lose their homes
There were drum lines by the river
The troops were all sent in
The sky was red
And racing down the canyon
There was fire in the wind

I always knew that someday
I would leave my house
Cause I would die
Or I would move
I never knew my little house
Could soon leave me

On October 8, 2017, I was sitting in my backyard enjoying a beautiful late afternoon fall day. There was a red flag warning but I dismissed it since we hadn’t had a significant wildfire in the Napa Valley hills since 1981. I had just returned from a trip to Gettysburg where I had visited the famous Civil War battleground. What struck me on that visit was the inability of troops on both sides to coordinate their efforts and communicate in any meaningful way during the chaos other than by drum-lines. Two hours later, my patio umbrellas flew out of their stands like Mary Poppins rockets in the violent winds. Looking east, up Soda Canyon from my property, the sky was brilliant red. I heard my neighbor, a retired Cal-Fire employee with years of fire fighting experience, yell an expletive, and a friend texted me “Get the hell out of there now!!” Deputy Sheriffs started pounding on doors and I loaded what I could into the car - photo albums, guitars, and the cat! I left with flames just a few hundred yards from the house. During the ensuing week, the power was out, cell towers were destroyed, visibility and breathing were compromised because of the smoke, and thousands of firefighters converged on the Valley, with hundreds of fire trucks rumbling up Silverado Trail like army tanks. There was no communication; it was Gettysburg. My house was spared. Many homes were lost. It was even worse in Santa Rosa where over 5000 homes were lost. The predominant emotion I felt was that of vulnerability. Our little town was surrounded by fire with only one way out to the south. A change in the wind could have destroyed the town. The thought of that happening had never before occurred to me. Now four fire-filled years later, it is a thought that occurs to everyone. The following year, the entire town of Paradise, California was destroyed by wildfire.

With all of that running through my veins, Fire in the Wind came pouring out of me while the fire was still burning. It is an expression of raw emotion. In a gross miscalculation, I took comfort in the belief that thirty years would pass before another wildfire would hit. I’ll leave it at that.