Wildfire Evacuation Critics

We just weathered a wildfire evacuation alert. We were warned that come morning, we’d likely need to leave our home. I prepared for the worst, loading the car with clothes, medicine, and irreplaceable photos and mementos. Thanks to the skill of firefighters, we didn’t have to leave. Still, afterward, there were consequences! I faced a choir of wildfire evacuation critics, who complained my emergency packing measures fell short of “their” expectations!

The evacuation alert came in about 7 p.m. My trusty neighbor Marissa texted me to let me know. Sure enough, I logged onto the wildfire app (There’s an app for everything!) and we were in the blinking dot “alert” zone. The update notices started coming in at regular and alarming intervals. The winds were going to pick up in the morning and the fire was expected to move in our direction by three-to-seven miles. “Be prepared to leave.” “Prepare a to-go bag.”

Wildfire Evacuation Critics

I called Handsome Hubby, who, as is the case in all household emergencies, was out of town.

“Oh, it will never happen,” he said. “The wind never blows north in Reno.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Reno know-it-all,” I said, gritting my teeth as I hung up the phone.

I promptly ignored the advice of my husband who had grown up in Northern Nevada and opted to listen to the warnings flooding my phone. First, I packed some clothes — not for HH — just for me. I wasn’t being heartless. I figured he had clothes from his trip. Then, I packed medicine for both of us. (I knew he would have packed just enough for his trip.)

That done, it was time for the sentimental stuff. I calculated how much room I had in the car and started grabbing our most beloved possessions.

To-Go Gets Going

I filled one box with photo albums. I did not permit myself the luxury of picking and choosing which ones above and beyond taking an equal mix of really old ones from my parents’ collection and newer ones from when the kids were babies.

Then, I grabbed all the beach towels and started wrapping pictures from the wall. Into the car went the photos of my grandparents and great-grandparents in Europe.

After that, I “allowed” myself one box for random knickknacks: HH’s baby shoes were in a cabinet. I wrapped those. HH collects rocks and minerals. I took three. On and on I went circling the house. The children’s silver baby rattles went into the box so did one of my childhood dolls. The box filled up too quickly. I wanted to pack more things.

The car was full. My back ached. I was exhausted. It was 1 a.m. I went to bed.

Watching and Waiting

All the next morning, my neighbor and I texted back and forth. I watched the wind pick up, watched the trees swaying, and watched our neighbors pull their cars out of the garages in case the electricity went out and they couldn’t open the garage doors.

Meanwhile, HH finally understood the situation was serious and he was on the phone with airlines, trying to book a plane home.

He finally did at 6 p.m. — just as the winds died down. The alert continued for another day, but our neighborhood was likely OK.

HH apologized for his nonchalance, and we had a quiet dinner.

Wildfire Evacuation Critics Gear Up

Then … then, he started looking around.

“Oh, you didn’t pack my favorite mug.”

“Wow, you didn’t pack my favorite picture of us.”

“You picked A to save, but not B and C …”

I “advised” him to stop the commentary, pointing out that if he had gotten home in a timely manner, we BOTH could have packed a lot more of the household into his honking big truck.

The Critics Gang Up On Me!

The next morning, I ranted to my girlfriend about HH’s critique of my evacuation selection, and instead of siding with me, she said, “Well, why didn’t you load up the truck yourself? YOU could have packed a lot in it.”

When I said I didn’t know how to drive it, she scolded me for that!

That afternoon at the gym, I turned to my trainer for sympathy but all I got was another scolding.

“Karen, why didn’t you call me? You know I have a truck. I would have been over in an instant to help.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah! Everybody’s a critic!

Meanwhile, while the alert was underway, all I kept thinking about was that we moved from Northern California to escape the wildfires. Now I’m in Northern Nevada and it’s the same scary story.

Gratitude!

But, of course, all that said. I’m safe. My home is secure, and aren’t I grateful to have people who offer loving advice and want to help in emergencies? You bet I’m grateful — 100%.

Grateful also to all those dedicated firefighters who are skilled and braved … and undoubtedly exhausted.