Waldo Canyon Fire

On Saturday afternoon, June 23, 2012, our house had just been inspected by our insurance claims adjuster for damage done a huge hail storm a couple of weeks ago. The adjusters were about to leave and we were standing in the front yard when we noticed a sudden plume of smoke over toward the mountains on the west side of town. We were all curious about the plume as it appeared so quickly and seemed to be growing exponentially. One of the adjusters, Cory, was from Pennsylvania and was to go home on July 9th. He commented that if that plume was more than just a small incident, he might have to stay longer.

I'm sure now that he will be here for a good deal longer than July 9th for the localized plume developed into a raging fire that will forever be known in Colorado Springs history as the Waldo Canyon Fire. At first people to the south of the fire in Manitou Springs were evacuated on Saturday as the fire burned south. Sunday those people were allowed to go home. Special firefighters came from all over the United States and Canada to help battle the fire which had quickly grown into a several thousand acre monster.

On Monday the battle against the fire raged and it seemed it might be contained with the help of the special force of firefighters. 5% containment was obtained and, although that isn't a big number, it encouraged everyone.

Tuesday afternoon the temperature reached 101 degrees, an all time record for Colorado Springs, and the winds shifted to the northeast. The fire became a monster that was headed, fast, directly towards  homes and neighborhoods in the northwest part of town. Thousands of people were mandatorily evacuated and traffic became a nightmare as people tried to gather the few bits and pieces that meant the most to them and evacuate. The monster kept coming. The photos and video seen on social media and television were an exact replication of what I've always imagined hell to look like with black, yellow smoke, ashes falling, and a horribly eerie red and yellow fire monster bearing down on a suddenly fragile and vulnerable place.

Photo by Dean J Radice via Facebook

My Facebook page lit up with news of friends being evacuated and horror stories of what was left behind. Fear and panic were the predominant emotions expressed and I felt them all within my gut and heart. Alan and I were glued to the continuous live coverage of the fire on KKTV, as well as Facebook, Twitter, and email. We were praying all the while that our friends and everyone else would be safe. We learned that our office building, Bold Technologies, was in the evacuation zone and in the path of the fire. (The building is fine, but still in the evacuation zone at this time.)

I think when it all become truly real and devastating was when the newscasters reported that the Flying W Ranch, a Colorado Springs institution since the 50's, had burned to the ground. The newscasters were suddenly overcome by grief and exhaustion and openly wept on air. The quick, total destruction of the Flying W was devastating because so many of us here in the Springs had been there, but what I think we were really weeping over was the fact that it stood on the edge of the neighborhoods being evacuated. The monster was growing and there seemed to be no way to stop it. I had the feeling I had as a child in Lubbock on the night of the huge tornado in 1970. Something devastating was coming and there was nothing I could do about it. I wasn't in the direct path. I wasn't in direct danger, but still a feeling of helpless terror washed over me.

Yesterday morning we awoke to skies heavily darkened by smoke and ash that smelt of something innocent--campfires or perhaps cookouts. The air wasn't innocent. It caused my throat, eyes, and lungs to burn and sting. If I stayed outside longer than five minutes, my stomach began hurting and my breathing became shallow. As I stared into the smoky haze, I felt shell shocked, numb, and unable to grasp the horror of the night before. Alan suggested we get out of town to an area where the air was clear. There was nothing we could do by staying at home. We had offered our home to evacuees. We were praying without ceasing. We packed up Buddy and headed southwest. I felt terribly guilty about leaving, but relieved to escape the smoke and helplessness bearing down on me because there was nothing I could do to help anyone.

Between 200-300 homes were destroyed Tuesday night. Thousands are still evacuated and will remain so until they're sure they have all embers out in the neighborhoods gutted by flames. It is unknown if any people have been killed. Pictures abound of the destroyed neighborhoods. They remind me of pictures of London after the German bombings in World War II.

Photo by James Matthews via Facebook

This morning my shocked numbness wore off. I am bowed by grief for all those people who have lost everything. I've imagined the shock, the worry, and the anguish of those who have lost their homes and all the memories built into them. Where do they go from here?

The Waldo Canyon Fire isn't over. It is still an active, living monster intent on devouring whatever lies in its path and is fed by winds and whatever fuel it finds along the way. Firefighters and military are trying hard to block all paths the fire might take. Bulldozers, earth movers, and airplanes dropping water and fire retardants are all tools in the arsenal to block the fire and put it out.

I realize this morning that although I feel helpless and ineffectual, I am not. I can pray. I can reach out to those who might need help. I can lean on my God and know He will help us all through this. All we have to do is ask.

Family History-Joe Leslie Wood, Part II

And now for the rest of the story...
Several months after I was born, Joe finally entered the United States Army and went to basic training at Fort Carson here in Colorado Springs. As anyone who has gone through basic training can tell you, it was tough. One day while standing in formation, a plane flew over and Joe looked up. His training officer caught him looking at the plane and said, "If you like looking at planes so much, lie down on the ground and watch them as long as you want!" He then proceeded to make Joe lie down and watch the sky for hours. It was cold and it started snowing, but still Joe couldn't get up and go inside. Eventually he was allowed to go inside, but ended up with a case of pneumonia from the episode.

I'm not sure if Joe went directly to Germany after basic training, but I do know it wasn't long after. He was stationed in West Germany for several years. In the meantime, Daddy finally became disgusted with farming and we moved from our farm in Eastern New Mexico to live in Lubbock, Texas. (While in New Mexico Daddy's crop was hailed out many times and that will kill the spirit of any farmer eventually.) After we moved to Lubbock, Daddy and Mother eventually both found jobs; Daddy with the Texas State Highway Department and Mother with Gibson's Discount Store as a clerk. Judy started attending Lubbock High School and I went to daycare.

I had my third birthday and it seems like that was when my brain started recording memories. I remember all kinds of things starting around then. One of my most clear and poignant memories was when Joe came home from Germany. Everyone kept talking about Joe coming home and preparing things. I had heard Joe's name a lot and knew he was my brother, but had no memory of him. Joe decided to surprise us with his actual arrival and gave no details of when he would arrive home. I remember Daddy was sitting on the front porch steps, smoking a cigarette and the rest of us were inside the house. A taxi drove up and there was Joe, grinning from ear to ear because he had successfully surprised everyone! After greeting and talking with Daddy for a little bit outside, he came inside and I was scared to death of him! He was this big, tall stranger with bright blue eyes and a booming voice in a military uniform and coming straight at me. He picked me up and I started crying. He began to win me over almost immediately though. He was so nice and kept saying, "Don't you remember me baby sister? I'm your big brother, Joe!" I was completely won over a few minutes later when he told me he brought me a present from Germany and proceeded to dig a handful of German coins from his duffel bag, just for me! He even got down on the floor with me to show me the coins and play with me a bit. From then on and forever, I loved Joe to pieces and we were bonded as sisters and brothers are supposed to be. (For the record, he called me "baby sister" for the rest of his days. In my teens when he would drop by the hospital where I worked and boom out, "I came by to check on my baby sister!" I'd be outwardly mortified, but inwardly delighted.)

When Joe came home from Germany

Joe was stationed primarily at Fort Hood in Killeen, Texas after his return from Germany. When he had leave, he would come home to Lubbock to visit. On one of those visits, he met and started dating a beautiful girl named Evelyn Sheumaker. When I first saw Evelyn, I was enchanted. She had dark hair, sparkly green eyes and a smile and joy about her that just glowed. She was always so sweet to me, picking me up, holding me on her lap. She even gave me a Santa Claus she had for a decoration in her little apartment. I wanted Joe to marry Evelyn so she could be in our family forever. Apparently Joe was just as enchanted by Evelyn as I was because he married her!

Joe & Evelyn Wood, Wedding Day
September 7, 1965

In 1966, Joe received new orders and was assigned to Vietnam. I think Daddy's reaction, when he heard this, was, "Oh hell!"  By this time Mother and Daddy had bought the house on 36th and Salem in Lubbock. Evelyn found a duplex to rent exactly one block away. The visits between those duplexes were a sustaining force for all of us while Joe was in Vietnam. She would come down to visit and there would be evenings of playing Spades and laughter. Judy and I would often go down to her duplex and spend a girls' night with her. I adored those nights. I got to be "one of the big girls!" Evelyn was pregnant and on April 28, 1967, Robin Renee Wood was born. To say I was excited is a vast understatement. I had other nieces and nephews (LeAnne, Sally, George, Curtis and Deanna), but I had not met any of those kids yet and had not quite grasped the concept of being an aunt until Robin was born. I was just a little kid and being an aunt to other little kids was confusing. When Robin was born, however, I was the big kid and Robin was a baby. I loved being an aunt then!

While we were at home delighting in the new baby, Joe was in the jungles of Vietnam. He was in the armored tank division and, although I know few details of his time there, I do know they were hellish. Daddy and I would watch Walter Cronkite every night to hear the news about Vietnam. Daddy knew Joe's division information and would watch intently to see if his boy was in danger or amongst the list of the missing or the dead. It was a very stressful time for us, but nothing compared to what Joe went through, of course.

Joe in Vietnam

When Joe came home, he was different. He was still Joe, loud and lively when with family, but there was a certain heaviness in him that hadn't been there before. He drank often in an effort to release that heaviness. It couldn't be washed away. He had seen too much and lived through too much, all before he was 30. Nonetheless, he carried on and was happy with his young family that was growing. On December 5, 1968, Leslie Jean Wood, his second daughter was born. On February 9, 1970 Jesse Joe Wood was born and on November 28, 1974, his last child was born, Jason Dean Wood.

Joe, Curtis, Ray & John Wood
Christmas 1970 (Cowboys & Popguns)

During the years following his time in Vietnam, Joe worked as a police officer for the City of Lubbock and then as a sheriff's deputy for Lubbock County, working his way up to Chief Deputy. In his official "off" hours he also worked with Uncle Dolf (Dolf Dean Qualls) on his farm, earning extra money along the way. Amidst all that he took courses at Wayland Baptist College and earned a Bachelor's Degree in English. Eventually he and Evelyn and family moved out in the country when Joe took a job as Chief Deputy of Hockley County. Tiring of law enforcement and by mutual agreement, he left it and became a car salesman with great success.

I could tell a hundred stories from my memory bank about Joe. I will settle for two that are very personal and important to me. Craig and I had been married for 3 years and had a new baby, Nathanael. Times were tough for us and we moved in with Mother and Daddy for a brief time. Daddy and Craig ended up having a pretty serious disagreement that could have come to serious blows but for the fact that Craig refused to retaliate. I was completely torn apart when Craig called me at work. We had to move out and we had to do it immediately. Craig picked me up from work and I was pretty much inconsolable. How could this happen, for heaven's sake? As we drove up to the house, Joe walked out and I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life! He had come to help us pack and move our things and to ease the way. I never will forget Joe pulling me close into his arms and saying, "Now baby sister, do not let this upset you too bad or make you think too hard of Daddy. This has happened with both of us boys and is nothing that can't be healed. Daddy loves you and is too protective, but it'll be ok. I'm here for you. If you need anything, I'm here for you. You know that, right, baby sister? I love you!"  Joe helped us move things out, kept the peace, and...he was right. The situation did heal and was forgotten. I've never forgotten, however, how my big brother was with me when I needed him the most.

Craig got hired by the post office in September, 1986 and we moved to Memphis, Texas. It was a wonderful time in my life that I'll always cherish. I got to stay home with my babies, Nat, age 2, and Josh, age 1. The town was friendly and our life there was good. I missed my family back in Lubbock so we all wrote letters back and forth. We were only about 120 miles from Lubbock, but before cell phones or email, it seemed like we were a great distance away. In the months prior to our move to Memphis, Mother had experienced a major heart attack followed by open heart surgery. Then we lost our dear brother, John, on August 24th. Life was a roller coaster and I desperately desired to stay in touch with my family and let them know how much I loved them all.

On Veteran's Day that year, November 11th, they had a show on television about a Vietnam veteran who was suffering the effects of Agent Orange. I think John Ritter played the soldier. It brought to life to me all that Joe had gone through during the war and all the intervening years since. He was still fighting the heaviness and still trying to drink it away, but still working, living, and enjoying life as well. He had recently had several skin cancers removed that were thought to be linked to his own Agent Orange exposure. Somehow the television program made it absolutely crucial to me to write Joe a letter to tell him how much I loved him, how proud I was that he was my brother, and how I prayed for him all the time. I wanted to see him, touch him and somehow make sure he was all right.

Joe didn't write me a letter back, but instead called me in response. He told me how much he loved me too and how much he wanted to see us soon. He and Evelyn asked Craig and I and the whole family to his house for Thanksgiving. I was thrilled! To get to be with the whole family at Joe's for Thanksgiving would be heaven. However, about a week later I had a terrible dream that was so real, I awoke crying. I dreamed that Joe was in a car wreck and was killed. I couldn't quit sobbing after I awoke. I had only experienced one other Irish dream before then and it came true so I was very afraid of this dream.

When Craig and I went to Lubbock, Sally and Betty had come for Thanksgiving too. It was going to be a grand celebration! Joe came by Mother and Daddy's and then asked if Sally and I wanted to come out that night (Wednesday) to spend the night and visit. I hated to leave the boys and Craig, but I was eager to spend time with Joe and his family so I went. On the way out of town Joe told us he'd been in a car accident over by Brownfield Highway and Spur 327. It had been pretty serious, but Joe wasn't hurt badly and I was greatly relieved! That's what that dream had been about! We had a fun time that night with Joe, Evelyn and the kids and the next day everyone else came for Thanksgiving.

Joe and I didn't have a lot of time to visit by ourselves, but it was fine. As the old saying goes, a good time was had by all!  My heart was full of love and joy. Somehow when it came time to leave, I could hardly bear to do it. I was crying, but trying to hide it. Joe came over to take me in his arms once again, like he'd done ever since I was a baby and was crying. He said, "Baby sister, don't cry! We'll see each other again before you know it! We might even come up to Memphis to see y'all sometime. You'll never know how much I appreciated your letter or the other letters you've written me over the years. I've always known you loved me and you know I love you! You're my baby sister!" I was consoled somewhat as we backed out of the drive and tried to avoid running over his bird dogs that followed us all the way down the road.

On Christmas Eve, Jody, Craig's mom, and her sister Dorothy and Dorothy's husband L.C. came to Memphis for Christmas. It would be the first Christmas the boys were old enough to enjoy Christmas plus Craig and I had just bought an old Victorian house with lots of room. We were all quite excited and full of the Christmas spirit. I made homemade cheese soup for supper. It was so lovely and cozy, but I felt a pall in the middle of the evening and could not shake it. I became quite sick and was sick all night long.

At 7:15 on Christmas morning Daddy called and asked to speak to Craig. I was speechless. Christmas morning and no Christmas wish? Simply a request to speak to Craig? "Daddy, what's wrong? You can tell me. You don't have to tell Craig. I know something's wrong! What is it?"  "Elaine, I'd rather talk to Craig, but...gosh, you're stubborn! Ok. Are you sitting down? Joe was in a terrible car accident last night." "Is he ok? Was he hurt badly? IS HE OK?" "No, Little Bit, he's not. He didn't make it. He's gone." My heart stuttered and stopped, shredded in an instant, then began beating again in a frantic rush. I fell to the bed I was sitting on and started wailing. Craig picked up the phone. I had always thought wailing an old-fashioned Jewish tradition, but that morning I experienced it for myself. It expresses pain that is too much to bear or even acknowledge. When the mind can't fathom a truth of pain, the spirit takes over and wails to God. My Joe was gone, never to come back. Our Joe was gone. Never to return.

He isn't gone, though, really, is he? He lives on in our hearts and memories. He lives on in his children and his grandchildren and now great-grandchildren. His blue eyes twinkle at me from so many of his continuing family. His laughter rings in our hearts. And, as he said to me that Thanksgiving evening, "We'll see other soon before you know it!" I know that is true.

Joe, John, Betty, Judy & Elaine Wood
The only time all five of us were together.
Mother & Daddy's 50th Anniversary, June 6, 1984

Family History: Joe Leslie Wood, Part I

Joe Leslie Wood was born in a hospital in Lubbock, Texas on June 13, 1943. He was the first baby in the L.D. and Inez Wood family born in a hospital, primarily due to the fact that World War II was in full swing and doctors were scarce. The days of doctors going to homes to spend hours or days delivering babies was over. Joe's birth was the most difficult one for Mother. She said no one would tell her what was wrong, but she felt he was breech and was very worried about him. (Eventually, many years later, she got Dr. Hunt to admit that Joe was born breech. They were unable to turn him until the very last minute.) Joe Leslie was born with a full head of black hair, bright blue eyes, and a full set of lungs. I don't blame him for having a screaming fit after such a traumatic birth! He deserved it! Joe weighed 7 pounds, 7 ounces, which, coincidentally, is exactly what I weighed when I was born. Mother was in the hospital for a full week after having Joe so that both of them could recover better.

Joe Leslie Wood, Age 1
Being the third child born into the family, he ended up being firmly in the middle of the five of us. Mother described him as quiet as a child, but declared often over the years, "Doris Elaine, you and Joe are the loudest kids of the whole bunch! I don't know why you both are so loud or where you got that!" Well, we know Daddy didn't have a loud voice so I'll let you surmise the rest yourself. Joe and I weren't always loud. We both loved to read and readers aren't perpetually loud, after all. True, Joe could amp up the volume in social situations and was truly the life of any party, especially family parties. Things could be rather tame and quiet and then Joe would walk in and say, "Hello 'dere!" in his loud, friendly way and the whole party was immediately more lively and fun. To this day I can still hear him say that and it always brings a smile to my face.

Joe was a good kid growing up and never got into too much trouble. Of course, there was the time Daddy caught John and Joe smoking behind the barn. Then there was the time that Daddy, Mother and the girls went to town and Joe ended up getting shot in the mouth with a BB gun. Daddy had given the boys strict instructions not to even get the BB gun out while at the farm alone, but you know what happened. The moment the dust from the car had settled down, that BB gun was out! They were shooting at tin cans on the fence, a la cowboy movie style. John was shooting and actually hit a can, but the BB richocheted off the can and zinged its way straight to Joe's lower lip! It was bleeding pretty good, but the BB was lodged. The boys didn't tell Mother and Daddy anything about it when they got back home because they both knew they'd be in big trouble if the truth were found out. Joe hurt for days as the BB wound festered up. He started running fever. He was in an awful fix. Mother and Daddy had noticed the wound, but didn't know what caused it or how bad it really was.
Finally Joe went to Daddy and told him what happened. Now, wouldn't you think that most parents would run their kid to the doctor to have the BB removed? Well, of course we would do that nowdays, but this was back in the early 50's and the family lived many miles outside of town. They often did their own emergency doctoring. Daddy sterilized his pocketknife, sterilized Joe's mouth, and slit his lip just enough for the BB to pop out. Then Mother and Daddy cleaned up the wound, kept it doctored until he healed and that was that. Daddy did ask the boys after the home surgery, "You boys ever going to play with the BB gun when I tell you not to anymore?" "No sir." "Good! Let this be a lesson for you!" And that was that.

Mother said as a boy Joe was forever falling around the yard, pretending to be shot, and dying in grand fashion like the cowboys in his favorite movies. She said it could take him 10 minutes to die in dramatic fashion while she'd be laughing at him out the kitchen window. He loved his Westerns!

In our family there seemed to be two sets of kids. Betty and John were closer to one another and Joe and Judy were closer to one another. Part of this was because of the spacing of the kids. Betty and John had each other for several years before Joe came along and then came Judy. When Betty and John grew up and left home first, Joe and Judy were the ones left behind.

The year Joe was graduating from high school, 1961, Mother became pregnant with me to her great astonishment. She was quite worried that Joe and Judy, but especially Joe, would be embarrassed by the fact that his mother was pregnant as he was graduating from high school. Fortunately, Joe wasn't that kind of kid and even seemed somewhat excited.  Joe had planned to enter the Army immediately upon graduating from high school. In light of the fact that Mother was pregnant and on strict orders to do no heavy work or even stand for any length of time (she had miscarried two babies quite far along between Judy and I), Daddy and Mother asked Joe to wait to join the Army until after I was born. Daddy needed Joe's help that summer with the crop and especially with irrigation. Joe agreed to wait. Joe and Judy both worked like troopers that summer and fall. Joe in the fields with Daddy and Judy primarily in the house with Mother.

After I was born, apparently I was a little colicky and a night owl who only required 4-6 hours of sleep a day. When everyone else would be exhausted and giving up on ever soothing me, Joe would pick me up and I'd settle right down. I think that is perhaps when we bonded, but maybe that's my overactive imagination.

Stay tuned for more of Joe's story in the week ahead!

Wood Family Pictures Pop Quiz

Before I post part 1 of Joe's story, I wanted to share some old pictures I found today that I had not seen in a long time, if ever.  See if you can guess who these people are! 

  

D-Day, 1934 or the marriage of L.D. and Inez Wood

Today marks the 78th anniversary of the day L.D. and Inez Wood were married in Clovis, NM before a Baptist preacher with only Harrel and Pauline Wood as witnesses. They went to Clovis because in NM, no premarital blood tests or waiting period were required. When Daddy and Mother decided they wanted to get married, they didn't want to wait 3 days to do it! So they drove the 100 miles to Clovis to marry. It should be noted that at the time they married, most young couples in the Lubbock area went to Clovis to get married. It was the middle of the Great Depression and only the most wealthy citizens could afford to have a wedding with all the trappings that people have now.

Every year on Daddy and Mother's wedding anniversary, Daddy would joke about how he was tricked by that ol' Baptist preacher. "I thought the contract was only for a year and then you had a choice about renewing. Come to find out, it was forever!"  Daddy would say this with a twinkle in his eye and a wry grin while Mother would say, "Oh, Dee!" while blushing prettily and grinning right back at him. They flirted this way with each other every year. Their marriage lasted 66 years and I attribute part of their marital success to the fact that they still had that spark and flirted with and teased each other. The other part of their marital success was simply the fact that they were married in a time where divorce was not considered a true option and they were both stubborn on that point. They had some problems when I was very young, but their stubbornness and love kept them together. As I overheard Mother say one day after a particularly big fight, "If he thinks I'm going to divorce him and leave this house and drag Elaine around from pillar to post, he's got another thing coming! I'm not going anywhere!"  So home she went and that was the end of even a whisper of a thought of ending the marriage.

Daddy would sometimes joke about the fact that he married Mother ten years before D-Day, the Allied invasion of Western Europe in 1944.  He said his own personal D-Day was when he married Mother, took her home to be his wife, and she invaded and took over everything! He was pretty firmly convinced that she did more damage. The truth was, he loved Mother and she loved him. They were quite different from each other, but it worked. He found her fascinating and fun. He was her rock.

Aren't we all glad that they found each other and had a lifetime of love?  None of us would be here without them!  Happy anniversary Mother and Daddy!