The First Thanks

   On this eve of local events to commemorate the twenty years since Miller's Reach Wildfire, it is appropriate to give thanks where thanks is due. When writing of those past events I must give the first thanks to God, for with his mercy alone there was no loss of human life, despite the fact that in excess of 300 structure did burn.
   But there are more thanks to go around on this earth. We thank the firefighters who were so patient as they awaited their orders to move, so many of them staged right up the road in a large parking lot. Patient they were, even as we screamed at them from our vehicles as we passed by during evacuation, not understanding in our trauma why they were waiting to start. For them we owe both a thanks and an apology. I was not alone on that one, so I said we. Nor am I alone in the thanks I have for the trooper who directed a large group of families to take shelter in an empty but relatively safe residence across the water from our burning neighborhood.
   However, I do personally thank those who did what they had to do to move some of us toward the eventual lifesaving exit out of Big Lake and on to further refuge. Thanks not only to the operator of the inn up the road, who freely gave shelter until we were able to return to what what we had left, but for the refuge and goods provided our families from schools and churches throughout Wasilla.
   For me, much thanks must go to my boss at the time, Mr. K., for not until he began to make phone calls on Tuesday morning to advise his employees of the proximity of the fire was I aware of the danger. Again, no thanks would be complete at this time without a thank you to those of you who commandeered the fire truck nearest my home, previously garaged due to mechanical issues, and kept most of an entire community of homes from burning out. There a special thanks goes to the local musher who took the fall later for the act of 'breaking out' that truck for community use.
   I have many thanks for God that resources available at the time were allotted to our area, even though someone in authority balked at the idea, believing the area was "nothing but pot smokers" who possibly did not deserve the help. Our children thank those that did not listen to her to this day, often with their vote.
   My last thanks also goes to God for not allowing violence to break out between neighbors in our situation, especially in front of the children, tense as the moments got sometimes. It was His mercy that carried all of us safely through the times.

"Say goodnight, Hazel."

   As I recall, it was twenty years ago today, the first Saturday in that June, when my friend and fellow bartender, Hazel passed away. I'm sure I probably thought what I so often do when I hear a loved one has passed, that we can be thankful that their pain has ended and they will suffer no more in this life. Never has that thought been shown to me to be more true, more quickly than when Hazel died. Her death that Saturday meant that she did not witness the events of the days which followed, for it was just the next day that what soon became known as the Miller's Reach Wildfire got it's start. Hazel just missed out on the sight of fifty foot flames devouring her community, neighbors put in handcuffs in the enforcement of forced evacuation, shelter which was denied to families being then given over to a family wedding dress. I simply use three of my own memories from the experience as example, I'm certain Hazel would have had her own.
   The timing also meant that Hazel's death did not garner its proper respect at the time. If there was a service held in a timely manner, I was unaware of it. So, as was custom to me at the time, for one last time, I do say "Say goodnight, Hazel.".