Seven years ago two people lost their lives and 346 houses were destroyed. Countless other homes were damaged or stigmatized - those are not my words. They were the three categories the El Paso County Assessor's office used to revalue the affected homes in the Waldo Canyon Fire. In retrospect I can see how those categories were apt, but at the time - when I opened that letter - it seemed cold and sterile. I wasn't a category. I was a person whose house fell in the third category. The rear-view mirror is a funny tool - looking back today I can see how those three categories; destroyed, damaged and stigmatized also described the people who lived in Mountain Shadows.
Today - seven years post fire, the stigma has abated. I sold my devalued home five years ago, two years after the conflagration. The trauma is more subtle now. The years have softened the hurt. I can drive to Colorado Springs, crest Monument Hill, and look without looking away. I used to enjoy eyeballing my neighborhood from that vantage point. After the fire, not so much.
To be clear, even though I did not lose my house, I was profoundly affected. I am eternally grateful to my friends the Knapp's for allowing me, my daughter and my dog to stay with them during the ordeal. I am grateful I was able to take the hit on my house and leave the area. Once the view changed, from green trees and native grasses to black sticks and dead brush - I had no interest in staying.
Two years ago I wrote a poem to process my feelings. I tried writing another one yesterday, but it wasn't there. No inspiration. No spark. Maybe that means I am a good spot. Maybe seven years is a good number. Like the opposite of the seven year itch. I'm good right where I am.
Time to Write,
Jane
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