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Thousand Oaks Strong
When pushed into a corner you can either cowardly recoil or stand up straight and come out fighting. My city of Thousand Oaks will always choose the latter.
Wednesday night, just at that moment where dreams drape over the day’s consciousness, through my bedroom sliding door the sound of sirens grew louder. Jolted out of the light sleep, the cacophony was alarming. This area, the cozy confines of one of Americas perennially safest small cities (FBI), the din of sirens and helicopters are a rarity.
My phone pinged. The local newspaper The VC (Ventura County) Star app alerted of a “shooting” at the Borderline Bar, a place I have frequented for the 21 years living here where I’ve enjoyed music and stand up comedians like Adam Carolla and Todd Glass. My first thought was dark: “This is exactly how I learned about the Las Vegas shooting”, awakened to an alert that grew into a horror show.
The sirens had grown in multitude. The helicopters were now many. Living in a deep canyon (topography that would impact me 14 hours later) I have no views beyond the surrounding escarpment of rocky hills and mountains replete with my own personal hiking trails.
I turned on the Roku which in all it’s free glory is rather limited at those rare times you want local news (there are apps for local TV but I’m not a fan of the inane talking head genre). Nothing reported yet. I turned on the Fox News app where blondes and beltway geeks were arguing about the election.
Phone pinged again. First reports of a “mass shooting”.
Ok… now I’m up.
FNC’s “breaking news” swoosh (which nowadays just alerts viewers the commercials are done) repeated what I had just read.
Sirens, more helicopters, and now national news saying my beloved little city’s name in the same sentence as “mass casualty event”.
I texted my ex who lives five minutes away and less than a mile from Borderline. My 18-year-old was safely in bed. School night.
As we all now know the news only got worse. The twelve people that were shot would become twelve dead (plus the man I shall not name, but who graduated my son’s high school).
Kids killed. Our kids. And the brave first responder dedicated to protecting them. All dead in a gruesome scene that both survivors and lifelong police officers will carry for the rest of their lives.
I think I only fell back asleep at dawn only to awaken an hour later to start my day and watch the news. I called my kids. My oldest was a mix of worry and anger. He has his opinions regarding gun violence, as many his age do, which are representative of a generation coping with a sociological malevolence my generation never had to consider during our formative years. My job as he goes to college will be to diligently pull him back to the center. But I understand his angst.
The Borderline backs onto the 101 Freeway and as I was heading toward L.A. for an interview, the traffic at the Borderline was caused by rubbernecking drivers all seeing the massive presence of first responders, media satellite trucks, and parents awaiting word of their missing kids. The broken large pane windows through where college kids jumped escaping with their lives were gaping, and below, shattered glass on the embankment of the now-closed freeway on-ramp.
The hour-long drive into L.A. allowed me to gather my thoughts for my interview with the controversial British politico Katie Hopkins (to be released this week). Do we discuss gun violence? I had chatted with her at an election night party, after which I had planned out the subjects so I decided to stick to my initial game plan.
During the last short interview break my youngest (13) son called. I was worried about him and his reaction to the tragedy so I picked up.
“DAD, YOUR STREET’S ON FIRE. YOUR HOME!!!”
Katie must’ve heard and suggested I go. I immediately did the math. An hour (if lucky) drive and I only had 10 min. left and Katie was leaving town after our interview.
No, I’m here. Let’s finish. the house will either be there or won’t.
I compartmentalized and completed the interview with Katie who was truly a kind, decent, wonderful person. (Don’t believe the twitterverse and online haters). She was so worried about me.
I headed back to T.O. and my car navigation showed the freeway had been closed right where I live. That’s not a good sign.
Knowing a freeway closure would cause a massive back-up I took back roads which were in chaos. People were driving erratically all trying to get home and save loved ones and pets. My phone was pinging with friends and family sending messages and even pictures of my house on television. Our good friend Melissa @6foot2inhighheels, in Michigan, was able to see my home long before I could (and her red Mustang which she has left at my place for her future trips).
After 2 hours of diversions, u-turns and probably breaking a dozen traffic laws, I pulled into my little canyon street where black smoke and flames were ferociously reaching for the sky.
Police had set up a blockade before the curve which prevented me from seeing my neighborhood.
The facemask clad young officer said “Sorry, no entrance. Mandatory evacuation.”
I replied “Sir, I live down there. I need to gather some things. Please!”
“Sorry. No cars. But if you want to walk, we won’t stop you. Just know you are on your own. It’s bad in there and no one can rescue you.”
I turned left into the parking lot of the community park, jumped out my car and ran. Around the curve, it became clear the officer wasn’t exaggerating. My street was a tunnel of black, gray and orange.
Across the street from my development, an R.V. storage yard with high-end toys was ablaze. Black smoke, $100,000-second homes, popping transformers, and 50-foot flames. The hill behind the yard, where I have hiked weekly, was completely burned.
My lungs quickly reminded me I was breathing this all in, so I ran to my development. Firefighters were spraying water at several burning structures next to my two-story home.
Entering my house I immediately realized I had left some upstairs windows open as the smoke was so thick I could barely see the walls across my living room.
There was no power but the numerous smoke detectors were piercing my ears as I ran upstairs in the daytime darkness directly to my safe. I pulled some personal papers, passport and went to my bathroom and grabbed my toiletry bag, and then my laptop, phone charger, and threw a couple days clothes into a duffel while running into rooms closing windows. I then noticed the footprints. Half an inch of gray ash atop my dark hardwood flooring could have been almost mistaken for a moon landing shot.
There was water coming from somewhere. Must be firefighters. I looked out the window. Flames were 20 feet away and thirty feet high. The hillsides were all on fire. The heat was blistering. Crackling manzanitas and small structures all burning loudly along with sirens, smoke detectors, wind gusts, and helicopters all added to the concert-level decibels.
I tripped down the ashy staircase, ran to the kitchen and looked for Melissa’s car keys in a drawer and left. The heat from the flames was real. A masked firefighter was pointing at me gesturing to leave. I jumped into the dirty red pony, navigated around the fire crews and got out of Dodge.
I didn’t look back as I believed the home wouldn’t survive.
It’s just stuff.
It’s just stuff.
I went back to the park and started coughing up 20 min worth of toxic air. The park was populated with spot fires and gawkers watching the hills burning.
I left Melissa’s car safely in the middle of the parking lot and head over to my ex’s house where I expected to find my kids.
My oldest wasn’t there. He was out with his journalism team doing interviews regarding Borderline and was trying to make it to the vigil but ended up being stuck and had to stay overnight at a friends house. At least he was safe.
Because the freeway shut down, dozens of cars lined the overpass. I would later see them sleeping in their cars for the night as I went back out trying to find a cell signal.
Freeway closed. Fire and brimstone all around and stranded drivers. It looked like the beginning of a dystopian movie.
Night number two without sleep as the 40-60 mile an hour wind gusts kept us awake while watching the encroaching fire from the South East. News of voluntary and mandatory evacuations now was impacting most of our city. Neighbors were determining what to bring and leave. Hudson, the wonder golden retriever was anxious and barking at the window as coyotes and other hillside wildlife poured into the streets fleeing from certain death.
I monitored wind patterns, local news and eyeballed it. We will stay. Neighbors were pouring out and filling the 4 a.m. streets all to experience rush hour conditions heading toward LA.
Dawn. The wind was still howling as it would for another couple of days. Thankfully no structures were directly threatened near my kids home.
But the fire had become two. The “Hill” Fire, which was large in its own right and had lapped at my doorstep was now the lesser concern. The “Woolsey” Fire, blew up into a seven-headed hydra and quickly galloped toward Malibu while destroying many homes and historic places. 150,000 people were evacuated. Hundreds of structure burned.
As it stands right now, and the numbers will certainly increase, I am learning of several friends who lost everything.
Houses, like mine, survived while next door structures burned to the ground. No rhyme or reason, just where wind-carried embers fly, which I learned could land up to sixty miles away.
As everyone knows, houses can be replaced. Stuff is stuff… Once the fires are put out, once people rebuild (which can take a minor miracle in regulation-laden California) they will move on with their lives.
Yet, there are our neighbors who lost more than homes. Our community didn’t have time to grieve the horrifying mass shooting at Borderline.
The teen center where families came to find out if their college-aged kids survived later the same day turned into an evacuation center where some of the survivors had to return as their homes were threatened. These are parents, brothers, sisters, and friends who are coping with funerals and memorials and unbelievable sadness. Vigils have popped up, attended by neighbors and strangers alike, all while we looked at the dark smoke-filled sky.
Thousand Oaks is a city that is filled with generosity and love. It is a small refuge of common sense and patriotic people who are focused on family, community, and country. This one-two punch occurred literally hours apart and while we are hurting, we are not down. We will heal. We are strong.
To donate: the Rotary Club has set up a fund which will provide relief and financial support to the victims and families of this tragic Thousand Oaks mass shooting. To donate for the victims of the wildfires see the Wildfire Relief Foundation.
Published in General
Beautifully written. It’s been hard to watch. I’m so glad you’re safe!
Man glad you are safe. What a nightmare.
….Oh, my…David, we are so glad you are safe…Oh, my…
I’m glad you are safe, and I wish you and your neighbors less excitement in the days to come.
Wow. What a horrible week. Stay safe.
A terrifying week. Glad you are alive!! Beautifully written. What a nightmare this community has lived through in the past few days. Happy that your home survived. Take care, brother.
I’m so glad you and your family came through this disaster safely Dave.
Dave, it all sounds terrible. So glad you and your family are okay. Take care of yourselves.
Thanks for the update up-close-and-personal, DS…THANKS BE that you and yours are safe…Nanda HUGS and prayers to spare and share!
Brian, thanks for everything.
I’m so sorry all of this happened to your family and you and city of Thousand Oaks. I will make a donation, and I will say some prayers for all of you. And you’re right, this too shall pass.
Prayers for safety and peace for you and all touched by these two tragic events.
That little car has seen a lot of adventure these last few years, but nothing like delivering one of my favorite people out of a burning hell. I don’t care about any damage – just glad Sally was there for you when it counted. Now please, please take good care of yourself and your family.
In case anyone’s interested, Larry Elder had a great guest on last night about forest fire policy. It was like three segments. The guy was really good. This is an oversimplification, but basically what he said was, you have to harvest more wood and do more controlled burns then what the leftists will let you. If you don’t do that, you literally end up releasing more CO2 and pollution, than if you did that the conservative way. Plus throw in all of the destruction and death.
The way we manage all this stuff, including hurricanes and floods, is so incredibly wasteful. Terrible. How many years have we had to figure this stuff out?
The guy on the show was from the Texas Public policy Center. He used to be a California legislator.
I just thought of something. If they had been harvesting wood, and doing controlled burns to manage this fire problem, think of how that would affect insurance premiums and the structure of government. It’s all good.
I live 25 miles north of Thousand Oaks in Ojai and went through this last December (minus the absolutely horrendous shooting) and it’s no fun. Glad you’re safe and your house survived.
The silver lining is that now all of the hillsides around our valley are burned out and likely won’t catch fire again for years. Hopefully by then, California will allow limited controlled burns to manage these fires better (they don’t now).
Dave,
Gd was with you Dave every step of the way.
Regards,
Jim
Yeti,
Gd, forbid that I am caught defending the President’s tweeting but I think it is patently obvious that ideological environmentalism has screwed up forest management in California. The weather conditions that have fostered this are endemic to California. It is the idiot forest management that is the variable. You’ve got to stop this crap and get Moonbeam & the new Moonbeam to spend some money on wildfire fighting equipment instead of Bullet Trains and Pension Paradise for the Public Employee Unions.
Regards,
Jim
States need to figure out how much space in the wooded areas around developments need to be cleaned out and kept that way for the safety of the neighborhood. That would also prevent ticks and wild animals from invading developments as well. It’s expensive, and the initial cleaning out should be part of the financing of the development. Then there needs to be money set aside for maintenance of the area. It would add beauty to the development as well. Everyone loves the look, especially the lighting, of cleaned out woods.
Developers are to blame here. They are saving a ton of money by using land-locked cheap land. That needs to stop.
As usual, it was a badly timed and unsympathetic tweet that was factually correct.
And the amount of equipment is not the problem. It’s not doing controlled burns to and maintenance to forests and brush rather than letting it grow out of control for decades.
Hard to not have tears reading this – I can’t imagine – Dave, Is Hudson your dog? Can’t believe you saved Melissa’s car – she owes you a drink! These back to back major tragedies are so shocking, along with a month ago a major hurricane in our area and the Temple shooting. This is a major time of testing – it’s overwhelming. You are a strong person – I’ll forward your post and hope many will contribute to the needs there. Is the Red Cross and Salvation Army there? Sending lots of prayers and please let us know how the Rico community can further help.
PS – Florida has controlled burns every year without fail – it all grows back in a year – without it, we would have major problems too – just a lightning strike can set things off, and we have plenty of those.
Nicely put.
Careful. There are people here who are opposed to any kind of zoning or land-use regulation.
What a nightmare brought vividly to my consciousness by your striking and rhythmic writing. How is it possible that I was not absolutely aware of the duality of terror visited upon a single small community. And yet, here I sat in the heartland thinking, meh, it’s just another California fire…just another shooting spree. Dear God, it’s amazing how numb we can grow to become. Thank you Dave for awakening me. And my prayers are with you and your community. God speed for your recovery.
Yeti,
I am getting the picture. Of course, even with proper management, it might be prudent to invest in some extra wildfire fighting equipment before one built a bullet train from LA to Frisco.
Funny how all Trump tweets are badly timed and unsympathetic. Frankly, most of the criticism of Trump is not only badly timed & unsympathetic but vastly counterproductive to the national interest, inflating trivial irritations to the level of crisis. Just a thought.
Regards,
Jim
I also wasn’t a fan of Trump’s tweet but agree the content was correct.
Unfortunately, Brown’s statement was even worse. The state is being run by a super majority of idiots, and we will only see more of these devestating explosions.
Their response to critics? Global warming/climate change deniers!!!
Some version of the Benedict Option is very compelling right now, I think. Our Rulers are worthless.
So you’re telling us, without actually saying it… You named your Mustang, Sally?
Thanks FSC! Hudson is my kids’ dog, but I am his Dad.
Red Cross also is helping with the shooting and fires.
Dave, if it makes sense, look into interviewing Team Rubicon. I don’t know if they will be in your neighborhood, but that is one hell of a disaster response organization. That is by far my favorite charity.
They don’t play it up anymore, but it got started during the Haiti earthquake. It’s one of the best stories you’ll ever hear.