So many San Diegans offered supplies and volunteer time that security had to turn them away.
Banner image above: Evacuees bring their horses to the Del Mar Fairgrounds during the fires

Coming Together
Four years ago, the devastating Cedar Fire had blazed for two long weeks, ravaging 750,000 acres and killing 22 people. Residents of the drought-plagued San Diego region have always understood the inherent risks of their particular plot of nature, but that doesn’t make the prospect of a major fire any easier.

By Saturday, October 27, 2007, a week after the recent wildfires first flared up, more than a half-million acres had been flattened by flames. Some 1,400 homes were destroyed and estimates of the damage surpassed $1 billion. At press time, the fire-related death toll had climbed to ten. That was the bad news.

The good news, though, is that in the wake of this widespread tragedy, San Diegans responded en masse to those in need. Assistance came in many forms, from dropping off cases of water to daring rescue efforts, but the sentiment remained the same: The community that stands together survives together.

Nowhere was this more evident than at two of the major evacuation centers, the Del Mar Fairgrounds and Qualcomm Stadium. On Wednesday, October 24, Ranch & Coast visited both sites to talk to those who’d escaped the fires and those who were just there to help.

Del Mar Fairgrounds
Early Sunday morning, evacuated residents and their spooked horses began to arrive at the fairgrounds. Before long, all of the 1,930 stalls were occupied, and some 2,000 human evacuees bunkered down, as well. Many people slept in simple grooms’ quarters, while others camped in their cars. A few devoted souls were even rumored to have spent the nights next to their horses.

Kenny Baker, the Equestrian Center manager at the fairgrounds, directed the evacuation operation with an easygoing authority. He pointed out handwritten logs that listed pertinent information about the boarded horses — some of whose owners were yet to be identified — as well as a table piled high with feed. For the people, a supply room was stocked with everything from toothpaste to energy bars and clean underwear. Coffee and snacks were offered all day long, and catered dinners were served in the grandstands.

After the Cedar Fire, Baker and other senior fairgrounds staff had outlined a plan for future emergencies. Baker said he’d gotten to the Fairgrounds at 6am Monday morning and hadn’t gone home until 9pm on Tuesday evening.

"I had quite a beard by then," he said with a smile. "I was glad to get home and see my lovely wife."

Inside the supply room, workers kept a tally of everyone who’d dropped off donations so that thank-you notes could be sent. Outside, volunteers were divided in teams for an afternoon shift and sent off to care for the horses.
Carmel Valley evacuees Charlie Franklin and his daughters Madison, 10, and Emily, 11, stood near the hub of volunteers with their two dogs. The girls said that hanging out at the fairgrounds around all the horses and other kids was almost like being at summer camp. Their dad said he was relieved that he’d gotten the family and their horses to safety.

"Everyone from the Ranch has horses here," he explained. "Everyone’s OK. We’re all healthy."

Billy Gatson of Ramona stood near his daughter Alex, 7, who sat on a stack of hay bales, her tiny legs dangling over the side, the family’s four dogs at her feet. The Gatsons were boarding their horses Destiny, Tatonka, and Duchess.

"The people here have been awesome," said Gatson. "I really can’t say enough about how great they’ve been."

Dave and Frauke Murphy of Rancho Santa Fe were staying at the fairgrounds with their five horses and eight cats. The couple said they were pretty sure their house was OK — Frauke’s family in Germany had been checking Google Earth on the hour.

The Murphys didn’t have a big-enough trailer for their handsome Arabians, so Frauke’s trainer had evacuated them in her six-horse rig at the crack of dawn on Monday. Later, the trainer would return to pick up additional area animals in need of a ride. Dave said he’d heard many similar stories over the past couple of days.

"I’ve lived here my whole life and never had to evacuate," said Dave, who gave a tour of the couple’s temporary living facilities. Curled up on the bed, a mama cat and her mess of tiny kittens slept peacefully. "It’s amazing, the generosity at this place," he continued.

Even the animals were helping, in a way. Rumors had quickly spread about the presence of several zebras and a zorse — a beguilingly beautiful mix of a zebra and a horse. Evacuated kids roamed the aisles of stalls with their parents, squealing with delight when they stumbled upon the striped creatures.

Amis Iriqui, a ranch hand from Spots ’n Stripes Ranch in Ramona, answered questions and let the curious get a good peek inside the stalls. Iriqui said that most of the ranch, including his owners’ home, had burned down, but all the animals left behind — save for one Great Dane named Puppy — had been miraculously spared.

In every dusty aisle, volunteers mucked stalls, and fed, watered, and walked the animals according to their owners’ instructions. A message boomed over the loudspeaker: "Drivers and trailers are needed for the Camp Pendleton area, which is now being evacuated. Drivers and trailers needed immediately."

Ears perked up, and before long, a caravan of concerned volunteers -horse lovers and those just desperate to help out — were on their way.

Qualcomm Stadium
Charles Gibson stood outside his RV in the parking lot of the Q offering a friendly wave to everyone who passed by. His house off Highway 78 had been destroyed two days prior — he’d watched it burn as he hitched his car to his motor home — but he was in good spirits nonetheless.

"I bought my RV from a couple who lost their home in the Cedar Fire," he explained. "They sold it to me after they rebuilt. There are a lot of people much worse-off than me — some are living in their cars. I’ll be fine."

By one entrance to the stadium, a roped-off area was filled with shipping palettes piled high with clothing and stuffed animals. Nearby, an incredible mountain of bottled water looked ready to topple. A sign read: "No More Donations." So many San Diegans had showed up with supplies that security had to turn them away.

Inside the Q — which had emptied out somewhat since Monday — families set up living quarters in corridors, their metal cots topped with mismatched bedding. All of the stadium’s TVs were turned to fire coverage, but at this point, few people were watching. Instead, they roamed the grounds, which had become a rather festive gathering place.

Ingrid Miller of San Diego had been helping out since Monday. She said she’d been evacuated during the Cedar Fire, and knew how rough it was.

"I just wanted to help out," Miller said. "I’ve been bringing towels and utensils home to clean them. It takes everyone to make this thing work."

Rabbi Levi Raskin of Chabad RSF, a Jewish non profit from Rancho Santa Fe, served hot kosher meals from a cart.

"Thank God our community is taken care of," said Raskin, who was evacuated from his home. "We found out they needed kosher food at Qualcomm so now we’re here." Andre Soriano of La Mesa and his three young friends wore blue rubber gloves to pick up garbage. They’d signed up online to volunteer for the day.

In every nook and cranny, volunteers offered free services, from crisis counseling and prayer to massages and face painting for the little ones. Musicians and acrobats strolled the grounds. On a makeshift basketball court, five members of the San Diego Wildcats played a pickup game with a group of very excited kids.

Jerome Habel, AKA "Big Lefty," dribbled the ball around 9-year-old Andre Govsuch of Spring Valley. Govsuch, a natural, swiped the ball on an up-bounce and sunk a clean shot. Habel whooped with pride.

"I’m having fun," the towering player said a bit breathlessly. "I’m trying to take my mind off everything. I’m trying to take these kids’ minds off it." Even evacuees of the four-legged variety were receiving VIP treatment, according to James and Jean Bostwick, who’d been evacuated from Rancho Bernardo with their two dogs.

"Volunteers have been going all around the parking lots making sure that everyone has what they need," said James. "There’s a medical team and kids’ supplies and books. And there’s been lots of help for the pooches."

He reached down to scratch the heads of Penny and Sophie. "They’re holding up OK. They were a bit antsy, but they’ve gotten plenty of attention."

"The caring here has been excellent," added Jean. "So much help — people willing to do anything and everything."

As afternoon turned to evening, Tammi McCall, 21, and her young son, Christian, looked worn out. They’d evacuated Spring Valley at 1:30am Tuesday morning and arrived at the shelter four hours later, where they set up camp with other family members. Christian rattled off all the cool stuff he’d seen at the Q. "They taught us to breakdance," he giggled. Then he showed off his funky new moves. "They’ve been good to us here," McCall said, "But I can’t wait to go home."

The Aftermath
Countless individuals and businesses from San Diego and around the world stepped up in the weeks following the fires to provide assistance to families in need. However, local volunteer organizations stress that the process doesn’t end when the coverage fades from the evening news. The holidays are especially tough on displaced families. To find out how you can help, contact the American Red Cross or Volunteer San Diego. (www.redcross.org, www.volunteersandiego.org) — Anna Maria Stephens, photos by Rich Cook