Evacuation
There was a post on Slate a few weeks ago that affected me profoundly. It was about the California fires; the idea of packing to evacuate without knowing whether anything would survive (or if you’d be able to return).
The writer practices packing in case they need to evacuate, and they’re proud of how efficiently they gathered the things they’d need. Their partner looks at the bag and says, “That’s all you want to save?”
Which led into this paragraph:
I realized, then, that I’d misunderstood my own assignment. I thought we were packing only what we needed to survive a few nights away from home. I hadn’t appreciated what evacuating really means: saying a provisional goodbye to everything but what you can carry. And figuring out what the discrepancies are between what you must bring and what you can.
I think for the vast majority of people who never experience this kind of evacuation — not the “we’re evacuating you just to be on the safe side” but the “you must leave now” evacuation — it’s hard to reconcile that party game of “what would you bring if you were going to be stuck forever on an island” with the reality of looking at your belongings and saying, “This is what I can realistically carry and the rest needs to remain behind.”
The writer weaves their story with those of others who evacuated (more than once) for fires. I know I will never hear about the evacuations and not think about this impossible task of looking at your belongings and hoping for the best but knowing you may also experience the worst. The article got under my skin.
5 comments
When I lived in California, up until a year ago., I almost had to evacuate but didn’t. It’s so true that it’s both emotional and practical. Of course I want my phone and computer (I guess it’s good we keep most pictures on our phone or in the cloud now) but what about the box of items/memories from my birth mom who died when I was young? Losing those would be pretty tragic. Definitely hard situation.
My sister has had to evacuate once and then been on warning for possible evacuation several times now. The most serious was when there fire was burning about a mile away. Thankfully the amazing firefighters were able to keep it from getting closer to her house. She packed her 5 cats and 4 chickens into her car and nothing else would fit. She said it really made her realize how little is really, truly important. Life, not stuff.
We have gotten the emergency call in the middle of the night in a power outage that you must leave now!…I grabbed the cats, computer and a box of family photos. there was no time for clothes or anything else. The cars could hold more but fear and adrenaline fueled decisions. Thankfully we made it out and our home was saved. I had forgotten my wedding ring and artworks and many precious other things…but hubby and I and our animal companions were all we really cared about. I wept as we drove away thinking all else was lost. It is a terrifying experience that I wish on no one.
When I was 21 and going to college but living with my parents, we were in the “prepare to evacuate” zone of a wildfire. In fact, we came home and had to show ID to get to our house. We were fortunate in that we didn’t have to evacuate- but the fire was close enough that we were prepared. Oddly, my dad was the first one home and he’d filled his entire car with clothes. Like emptied my closet and half my mom’s. LOL. She and I had other ideas (and I’m sure he would have gotten the dogs) but it’s something I think about frequently being a California native, and having been near to so many- but we were so fortunate the winds turned as there was a canyon right behind our house that had it gotten any closer could have been awful!
I sometimes think about what I would try to save in situations like that. It’s such a sobering thought. Brings tears to my eyes when I hear stories about people losing everything. It’s tragic.