Camp Fire almost out, but survivors still in limbo
Many have not been able to return to homes, if they’re even standing
Sarah Zigler and Dustin Kimball now know what it’s like to be nomads.
Since being evacuated from their Magalia home when the Camp Fire blazed through the area, they have bounced around — a hotel in Sacramento, a few days at the small home of Zigler’s parents, a tent in the lot next to a Walmart in Chico and finally to the Pacific Motel in Gridley, where they were Saturday with Kimball’s 3-year-old daughter, Natalee.
They’re grateful to be alive, Zigler said, but “it’s really hard to be in limbo.”
They’re not unlike the thou-
sands of other people displaced from their homes in the foothill communities of Paradise and Magalia by California’s deadliest wildfire. More than two weeks after the blaze ignited Nov. 8, families have been seeking shelter in hotel rooms, on friends’ sofas and in Red Cross shelters across the region as they cope with the grief and shock of losing almost everything and try to plot out their next moves.
Paradise and parts of Magalia are still closed off to residents, though in some unincorporated areas around the towns, officials have allowed residents to return. On Saturday, CalFire officials announced they would lift the evacuation orders for residents in parts of the Berry Creek area.
But services are limited, officials warned, urging people to cover their feet, watch out for falling trees and drink only bottled water because the area’s supply could be contaminated.
The fire, which has killed at least 87 people and destroyed nearly 14,000 homes, was 98 percent contained Saturday, authorities said. The area where the flames are making their last stand includes rugged terrain made even more difficult to access because of recent heavy rains, according to CalFire. Firefighters are monitoring the blaze while strike teams search through the disaster zone, looking for human remains. More than 470 people remain on the sheriff’s list of those unaccounted for.
Zigler and Kimball know their house is still standing, but the smoke badly damaged it, Zigler said. They don’t want to expose their kids to that and aren’t sure how long it will be before it can be cleaned. A FEMA inspector told them they couldn’t get there safely, she said. Plus, without the main road, Skyway, open to cross through Paradise into Magalia, they’d have to take treacherous backroads that would make for a two-hour drive to Kimball’s work in Gridley.
So for now, they’re sticking with the motel while Zigler’s children are spread out, staying with friends or relatives in Chico and Oroville until the family can return to Magalia or perhaps move into a mobile home or trailer on a nearby property.
At the Pacific Motel, they’re in the company of other fire survivors staying in the 15 rooms available. The hotel’s managers, Jennifer and Richard Redmond, have been running it mostly as a haven for evacuees since the fire began.
With encouragement from motel owner Rupesh Kanji, Jennifer Redmond said she began calling the day the fire started to ask booked guests to cancel reservations so that some of the thousands scrambling to escape the fire zone could lodge there instead.
She gathered donated supplies from thrift stores and hooked up the survivors with meals donated from White Pony Express. The registration office at the motel holds bins of sandwiches, toiletries and jackets for the taking — many evacuees fled with nothing but the clothes they were wearing. The Redmonds do the guests’ laundry and receive some of their mail for them. Jennifer Redmond can rattle off which family is in each room and what their situation is.
For a few days after the fire, the motel gave free rooms to evacuees and since has offered discounts. Jennifer Redmond has worked with two volunteers, Mel Contant of Antioch and Penny Lara of Chico, to get evacuees some things they need — from toothbrushes to gas money — and to search for temporary and longer-term housing for them.
“We’re in it for the long haul,” they all would say.
“We’ve got them to points A and B, now we have to get them to point Z,” Redmond said. “They lost their homes. Now they need to go find how to go on.”
Throughout the county, residents are taking steps to move on.
At Butte College’s main Oroville campus, crews were cleaning up Saturday. The fire crept just to the edge of campus but left the buildings alone. The smell of smoke and the ash linger, but on Monday, classes will resume. More than 400 Butte College students and 100 faculty and staff members have been affected by the fire, according to a message on the campus website, so the school promises that services, including a food pantry, financial aid and counseling, will be provided.
The schools in Paradise were hit hard. Mary Sakuma, deputy superintendent at the Butte County Office of Education, said Wednesday that schools are expected to reopen Dec. 3, even though some new spaces will need to be used as classrooms.
“This is the equivalent to setting up a school district in two weeks. There are a lot of logistics,” she said.
At assistance centers, residents wait to talk with insurance companies and FEMA staff, hoping to get the funds or documents to re-establish some normalcy in their lives. But with many still barred from getting to their property to survey the damage, they’re forced to wait.
“It can get frustrating,” Magalia resident Joey Chandler said from the room at the Pacific Motel he’s been sharing with his father, Ralph, since Friday. Before that, they slept in the car for some days, a hotel one night, the Walmart tent camp for about a week. That’s where they met Contant, who worked to get the tent-dwellers into motel rooms and out of the cold.
The Chandlers’ home in Upper Magalia is still standing, they heard from neighbors. They’re not sure what condition it’s in, but with their pickup truck’s clutch not working, they have to wait to get it fixed before they can venture there from Gridley, especially on winding Highway 32. Besides, Chandler said, gas is expensive, and he can’t afford to drive around to explore unless he knows he can park it at home for a while.
And his dad, 71, is in ill health, Chandler said, referencing the smoke and debris in the area. “We can’t live in a toxic place.”
So they’ve packed into their room at the Paradise Motel with Cool Kitty, the stray cat Chandler adopted years ago. For now, he said, “It’s like hurry up and wait.”