Fleeing the Flames

It was 3:25 p.m. on Friday the 13th. There have been many rumors about Friday the thirteenth and how it is supposedly so “unlucky.” I never believed this myth, until I actually experienced bad luck on this day. School had just gotten out, and everybody was leaving to go home. I was waiting at the doors by the gym for my ride. I usually wait about five minutes for my ride to pick me up, but for some odd reason, my grandma was early. She started to get out of the car and walk in the school. I just waited inside because I thought maybe she needed to talk to someone or get something. As soon as she walked in she told me that we needed to get home and pack all our valuable stuff before it burned. At that moment I knew she was hinting at the fact that the big wildfire was heading for my hometown.

We got home, and I slowly put my stuff together. I was not in a big rush. There was no way a wildfire was going to burn down Oakwood. Oakwood is such a small town. How could something like this happen? Saying there is going to be a huge fire coming towards Oakwood is like saying a bomb is going to blow up our school, nobody thinks it will actually ever happen.

I packed all my stuff I thought I would need, such as makeup, clothes, shoes, awards, pictures and some other valuable things. It was around seven o’clock. The TV was on Channel 9. We were listening to the news to stay updated on the upcoming fire. I thought to myself, maybe this is actually happening. My walls in my room are covered with pictures that could never be replaced. I took a pair of scissors and started cutting them apart. I was running through the house grabbing anything I did not want to burn. By the time I was done packing, I had a whole trunk full of just my stuff.

on the inside I was thinking THANK YOU GOD!

— Kalissa Wile

We decided to drive around and see how close this fire was getting. It was not too close to where we needed to be concerned, but close enough to stress everyone out. It was getting late. I decided to go to bed. I grabbed a pillow and blanket and laid down on the couch. I was sound asleep, until around one o’clock in the morning. I heard my grandma yelling, “Get your stuff and let’s go!” As soon as I got up, tears were rolling down my face. I heard a loud banging noise coming from the door. My grandpa opened it. The sheriff was standing on my front porch. His exact words were, “You guys have to get out of here. We are evacuating everyone.” We loaded up the dogs and all our bags. I had sat down in the back of the car. Cops were driving up and down the streets, lights flashing, sirens going off. Was this really happening? Was I really about to lose my home?

We drove to the top of the hill where the gas station is located. As we were driving, I kept thinking I had forgotten something at the house. I wanted to turn around and go get more stuff, but it was too late. The fire was heading our way. We sat there in the car with the rest of the town, watching the fire that was going to burn all our memories to ashes. At this point, I knew there was nothing else I could do. I was not going to get to go back home.

I fell asleep in the backseat of the car, freezing. Grandpa does not like to let the car run and waste gas. I was asleep, but yet I wasn’t at the same time. I suddenly felt the car move. I sat up and asked where we were going. Grandma said, “home.” My eyes lit up. I questioned, “home?” She told me that the wind had turned the fire, and it was safe to go home. I acted like it was nothing, but on the inside, I was thinking “THANK YOU, GOD!”