Naked woman
caught riding down
Alpine Boulevard
By Mary
Hay Davis
The Alpine Sun
OK, I confess
— There was no naked woman on horseback pulling a Lady Godiva act
in Alpine. But now that I have your attention, I want to talk to
you about something important – fire prevention and safety.
Come on, admit it. Had I started this topic and
headline with “Alpine Residents Need to Prepare for Fire Safety,”
the vast majority of you reading this would have yawned, turned
the page, and gone on to the next article.
That is exactly the complacency we as a community must
avoid.
Doug Matter, past fire chief for the Alpine Fire
Protection District, likens fire-safety preparedness to the story
of the three little pigs.
The first two pigs want to rush through the preparation
process so they can go on to other things. Oh sure, the wolf might
come, but what are the chances of that?
The third little pig, however, takes to heart the very
real threat of danger and acts accordingly. He spends the extra
time, money, and energy to make his home safe, knowing full well
that one day there is a very real chance of seeing the wolf at the
door and witnessing those fangs up close and personal.
Fire is our reality in Southern California. It is not a
matter of if, but when our community will burn.
Alpine and the Back Country have faced three major fires in the
past five years. The vegetation that fueled the Cedar, Viejas and
Horse fires had not burned in over 30 years. The terrain and
acreage were ripe for fires, and they came.
But there is still a large swath of Alpine and other
areas of the Back Country that have not burned in more than 40
years.
What makes Alpine even more vulnerable is our
community’s geographic location in the mountain foothills. As
such, every year we are hammered by seasonal Santa Ana winds.
For those of you not familiar with Santa Anas, they are
a weather phenomenon that affects southern California, usually
between October and March. Hot, dry winds sweep down from the
northeast, originating in the Great Basin (located between the
Sierras and the Rockies).
They are then channeled through southern California’s
canyons and mountain passes. This channeling through narrow
passageways greatly accelerates the winds to speeds of 30-40 miles
per hour, and can cause gusts upward of 60 miles per hour by the
time it reaches the foothills.
When it comes to fire danger, think of the fire itself
as the bullet, and the Santa Ana winds as the gun that propels it.
What does this mean to you as a resident in this
fuel-laden ticking time bomb? It means the time to act is now, in
August, before the Santa Anas arrive, not in October when it is
too late.
Next week, I will discuss fire prevention measures in
greater detail. But protecting your residence is a matter of
common sense measures that you can start to take now. In 10
minutes you could:
Evaluate your property for proper brush clearance.
Visually inspect to see if you have a 100’ perimeter minimum of
defensible space around your home.
Examine the immediate perimeter around your home, to ensure that
combustible items are stored away from structures. This includes
woodpiles, furniture, and anything that could serve as fuel.
Evaluate your landscaping. Are there trees that are close to or up
against your house that need to be trimmed or cut down? Trees can
serve as torches, carrying flames directly up to your roof.
Inspect your roof. Are there bird-stop guards? These serve to
prevent embers from going under the shingles and eaves that could
smolder and ignite a fire in your attic.
Ok. You’ve stuck with me this far. You have learned the
extreme danger we face as a community. You know some steps you can
take now... not tomorrow, not later this week... now... that will
keep you family and your home safe.
For those of you who were not here during the Cedar
Fire, you can only begin to imagine the horror and terror that
this community, and much of the county endured.
For those of you who were here, perhaps the memories
have started to fade in three years’ time. Let me refresh them for
you.
Do you remember waking up that morning? The sky glowed
orange to the north and the west. The pungent smell of smoke
filled the air as the sun rose.
We knew the fire was big, but it was still so far away.
Ramona, Barona, Scripps Ranch. Still so far away and nothing that
we in Alpine needed to worry too much about.
But wait! Around noon, things change. Those Santa Ana
winds shift, no longer blowing southwest. The inferno and 40-foot
walls of flames turn and consume Peutz Valley. A woman is killed.
Residents of Crown Hills watch in terror as the fire
that was “so far away” an hour ago races towards them. Six houses
burn in that community and the residents evacuate in terror.
El Capitan reservoir could not stop the fire, but
surely it won’t jump Interstate 8. We watch in disbelief as the
fire sweeps across the freeway like Antonio Gates at the two-yard
line. Within 10 minutes it has swept from I-8 down Harbison Canyon
Road, through Deer Creek and up towards Alpine Heights.
Parents throw their kids into the car and flee in a
desperate race to outrun the flames. Ash and embers rain down on
us and we choke on the smoke as we gasp for air. Cars line up to
evacuate to the east, as all routes to the west and south are
choked off by the fire.
As the fire sweeps past, clouds of smoke envelop the
sun, and the sky takes on the appearance of a nuclear winter. The
fire continues for several days and again doubles back and now
threatens Alpine Heights from the south and Victoria and Viejas
areas on the east. Eventually Descanso burns, and much of the
Cuyamaca mountains as well.
We creep back into the community, like wounded soldiers
raw and fatigued from battle. We are woefully unprepared to
witness the devastation that awaits us.
The terrain resembles a moonscape, barren and desolate.
Like Scarlett, who waited on that moonlit night for the clouds to
part to see if Tara still stood, we approach our own homes with
fear and trepidation.
In a coin toss, some of us heave a sigh of relief.
Others sob tears of sorrow and pain in realizing the loss of their
homes.
Regal houses that once stood upon hilltops as proud
sentinels now are charred ruins with only a lone chimney standing
in weak defiance. Vinyl fences sag in limp defeat. Proud oaks that
stood for 100 years are nothing but withered stumps, with their
spindly black fingers seeming to mockingly point at the remnants
of what once was.
Now do you remember? Do the sights, sounds, and smells
of that harrowing week rush back from the recesses of your mind?
Do they now seem as if it had all occurred just yesterday?
That is the urgency I endeavor to convey to you today.
We are all busy. There’s the kid’s soccer game this
weekend, the house needs to be cleaned, we have to go to the
grocery store, and any other number of “urgent” everyday tasks
that demand our attention. Fire prevention can wait until
tomorrow... can’t it?
So pointedly, I ask you... what are you doing today to
keep your family and residence safe for tomorrow? Are you willing
to provide the proverbial ounce of prevention now, or do you plan
to just hope for the best and wait for the tragic pound of cure?
Or as Chief Matter might ask... which little pig will
you choose to be?
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