By: Ernest Gurulé
As the welcomed snow fell over the towns of Superior, Louisville and other pockets of Boulder County last Friday, one question rippled across one of the state’s fastest growing regions: Why didn’t it come just a day sooner?
Of course, the previous day, another weather condition was creating a real time nightmare across the area. Record high winds—some topping out at 115 miles per hour—were blowing, dancing devilishly, unpredictably and giving herculean strength to fires that ordinarily would have been routinely extin- guished.
Block by block, wind-fanned flames, like an army, blew through subdivisions with an imprecise yet deadly vengeance. Whole blocks early that Thursday morning stood in a rank-and-file uniformity of order, were reduced to burning holes in the ground, holes containing the ashes, now histories, of entire families.
While a monetary value has not yet been set on the damage, the Marshall Fire has been officially called the most destructive in Colorado history. By Boulder County Sheriff Joe Pelle’s count, nearly a thousand homes that stood just days before are gone. Homes lost in Louisville and Superior are set at 553 and 332, respectively. Another 106 homes in unincorporated Boulder County are also gone. gone. Pelle said 127 also suffered damage in the 6,000 acre blaze. Mansion or modest, the fire didn’t ask. It just took.
Because communications were spotty and unpredictable, Pelle initially shared his concern that after a post fire search there could be a potentially high human toll from the fire. Luckily, that proved to be an understandably, but incorrect guess. Initial preliminary figures had three people missing but one was found in a good shape. Two others remain unaccounted for.
Pelle said that until there is an official investigation completed on the fire’s origin, its genesis will remain only speculation. But there has been a search warrant served on one specific property where it’s suspected the fire may have begun. Because of the high wind warning that had been in the forecast, the county was on a no-burn edict. Power lines, often a source of ignition, have been ruled out as the cause of the fire.
While the destructive nature and end results of the fire may not have been known, what was common knowledge among fire officials is that the conditions were nearly perfect for something. But no one could have ever guessed that it would be this bad.
Until December 10th, it had been a record 232 days between snowfalls in Denver. The early December snowfall measured only three tenths of an inch. Before that, the last recorded accumulation occurred last May. The ingredients for disaster—warm temperatures, dry conditions and gale- force winds—were lined up in perfect order. But bookending the long spell of dryness was a wetter than normal spring that allowed grasses to grow before drying out and ultimately serving as fuel. The fire represented just one more compelling argument in an ever-growing discourse on climate change.
As the winds raged last Thursday and stories of ravaged neighborhoods grew seemingly by the minute, other residents living in a potential line of fire waited on evacuation orders. Broomfield residents Carla Padilla and daughter, Lily, home for the holiday break from New York Sarah Lawrence University, packed a few boxes including important papers and valuables, and waited for official direction. Thankfully, the call to leave never came. “We were worried,” said Carla. “But we were ready.” They also had their dog, Benji, ready to go.
Of course, they were on the periphery of the fire. They could see the discolored smoke cloud blocking the Flatirons and smell the acrid air now filled with the aroma of not just smoke but heartbreak. But they at least had time to gather a tiny portion of their lives in case the wind and fire had taken the wrong direction.
Others had simply begun the day, perhaps muttering about the wind, but otherwise going about their business and not remotely suspecting that their lives, as they knew them, would never be the same. Homes, pets, memories would all be gone and, in so many cases, be gone, reduced to embers in minutes.
Animal rescue was also a big part of the job that fell on Boulder County last Thursday. Sheriff Pelle said that “animal control was working non-stop.” Rounding up some critters was easy, not so much with many others including scores of big animals, including horses.
Social media once again played a vital role in uniting some pet owners with their animals. Those with lost animals posted pictures while those who had rescued animals were doing the same. For animal owners the four best words on a day when most other words took a darker meaning were, “We got your pet!” Pet owners, vet groups, shelters and com- munity members have all pitched on lending a hand on pet rescues.
The losses, now only guesses, will ultimately be known. But there will never be an accounting system that tabulates the value of those other mementos, from valued genera- tional heirlooms to modest but nonetheless treasured family memorabilia, everything from photographs to first tricycles and on and on. Adjustors will fix a price on some things but there are no tables, no formulas for placing a value on so many others.
For now, with more than 30,000 people potentially displaced, anyone wanting to help in any way, can contact the Community Foundation of Boulder County or, perhaps, a non-profit of their choice. If you would like to donate money, you may do so by visiting boulderoem.com. For hous- ing offers, you may register through Airbnb’s Open Homes Program. Monetary donations are also being taken by the Boulder County Wildfire Fund. If sending a check to the Wildfire Fund, please include ‘Wildfire Fund’ in the memo line. You can mail it to: Community Foundation Boulder County, 1123 Spruce Street, Boulder, CO, 80302.
