TOWN IN PERIL
Hundreds in Mayer urged to flee as fast-moving wildfire menaces
PRESCOTT VALLEY — Hundreds of anxious Mayer residents, forced from their homes just hours before by the rapidly spreading Goodwin Fire, gathered at a Prescott Valley high school Tuesday night to get the latest news on the progress of the flames threatening their community.
But little of what fire officials said was comforting as erratic winds continued to push flames through tinderbox-dry conditions along rough terrain.
They were reminded of the potential cost of protecting structures when one official mentioned a looming anniversary of a tragedy that remains all too fresh in the area.
Pete Gordon, fire chief for Prescott National Forest, brought up
“This is a risky mission and we have to be very calculated in our decisions.” PETE GORDON FIRE CHIEF, PRESCOTT NATIONAL FOREST
the 19 Granite Mountain Hotshots who died on a hill four years ago Friday while fighting the Yarnell Hill wildfire, which had sparked two days earlier.
“They weigh heavy on my mind, and I am sure they weigh heavy on your mind,” he told the crowd. “So please understand that while we send firefighters into difficult places, there are places we will not go. We hope you support and appreciate that.”
Gordon, who in 2013 spent the night with the fallen firefighters before their remains were collected, said later that every firefighter’s death is memorialized by lessons learned. He would use those lessons, Gordon said, as he sent crews to fight the Goodwin Fire in upcoming days, if not weeks.
“I ask myself tough questions,” he said. “Do we need to defend that ridge now, or can it wait until a better situation presents itself? We could protect that structure, but with all the brush around it, it will probably burn anyway.”
Fire officials told the crowd that the Goodwin Fire is especially difficult to fight because it is roaring through trees and brush that have grown untouched for 40 years. Flames are high, hot and strong, making them difficult to tame.
With more than 500 firefighters on the ground as well as helicopters and other aircraft dropping fire retardant from above, small strides are being made.
But that was hard to see on Tuesday, after the town of Mayer, a community of about 1,400 located along State Route 69 between Interstate 17 and Prescott, was forced to evacuate.
Several other smaller residential areas also were forced to evacuate as the fire continued its progression, having burned nearly 18,000 acres as of Tuesday evening. The fire forced the closure of State Route 69 between I-17 and the junction with State Route 169. Highway 69 is a major link that leads to Prescott Valley and Prescott, a heavily traveled route by many Phoenix-area residents who escape to the area on weekends. Officials confirmed late Tuesday afternoon that the fire had jumped State Route 69 as it moved north, already scorching 500 acres by early evening. Containment was at 1 percent late Tuesday.
The Arizona Department of Transportation said alternative routes into Prescott included State Route 169, which links to I-17 north of State Route 69, or State Route 89, which runs north of Wickenburg though Yarnell to Prescott and continues north to Interstate 40.
Overnight Tuesday through this morning, firefighters will be establishing a perimeter around Mayer. Bulldozers are carving fire breaks as aircraft lay down fire retardant in an effort to keep flames away from the small town.
The fire has yet to burn any structures in Mayer, and officials told the crowd that they would work to keep it that way. The Red Cross set up a temporary shelter at Bradshaw Mountain High School, where officials addressed the crowd. Arrangements also were being made to house livestock at a nearby events center, and animal-welfare groups were working to provide temporary shelter for displaced pets.
Officials had no answer for the questions they heard most often — “Will my home be safe?” Fuel conditions and winds, they said, have made this one of the most difficult fires to fight.
“This is a risky mission and we have to be very calculated in our decisions,” Gordon told the crowd. “We want to protect the lives of firefighters and the lives of residents. That is our utmost concern.”
Earlier Tuesday, under a reddishbrown sky where the sun tried to fight though thick smoke coming off a nearby ridge, Terry Jackson put a garden hose to the roof of his small home.
Twenty minutes earlier, deputies told Jackson it was time to leave as flames threatened to march down the hillside and into Mayer.
Jackson said he thought about it for all of two seconds.
“This is my home,” he said. “It’s all I have. I have to protect it.”
The Goodwin Fire bobbed and weaved just a few miles away, the erratic winds taking it east, north and then south, toward Mayer. On Tuesday afternoon, patrol cars wandered along the narrow roads that crisscrossed the small town’s neighborhoods. Some quickly heeded the warning, packing their cars with their most valuable possessions, often dogs and cats.
But the 56-year-old Jackson and his 63-year-old brother Torrey were determined to stay put. To a point. “Ten homes,” he said, pointing north. “There’s a gap there. If the flames cross that gap, we’ll head out. Until then, we’re sticking it out. Like I said, it’s my home. I can’t leave.”
Next-door neighbor Pam Baker, 51, followed Jackson’s lead. She was wetting down the thick brown grass surrounding her home, knowing one cinder could prove disastrous. “I’ll go … when it’s time,” she said. “It’s not time.” Firefighters and Hotshot crews watched from a nearby elementary school, some taking cellphone photos of the fiery ridge.
Conscious of the impending date when 19 Granite Mountain Hotshots lost their lives in terrain similar to what’s found around Mayer, it was best not to tempt fate, not with the dangerous winds. On Tuesday, overhead, helicopters dropped fire retardant not far from Highway 69, trying to establish a line that couldn’t be crossed. But the way the winds were picking up, nothing was certain.