The other side of the fire: Reservist loses home

Published Oct. 9, 2012
By Staff Sgt. Stephen J. Collier
302nd Airlift Wing Public Affairs

PETERSON AIR FORCE BASE, Colo. -- As Colorado's windswept Waldo Canyon fire flared up to historic proportions June 26, Air Force Reserve and Air National Guard aerial firefighting C-130s had been taking to the skies for more than 24 hours, helping to contain the growing menace.

Just yards from the C-130's fire retardant drops, residents of Colorado Springs' Mountain Shadows neighborhood watched as the fire crested the ridge south of Blodgett Peak. The powerful winds began to shift, and smoke, soot and ash were now blanketing the community. The time to go had come, and local resident and Air Force Reservist Senior Airman Jason Williamson, whose Reserve unit's C-130s were part of the aerial firefighting response, was leaving his childhood home behind -- forever.

Williamson, a food service specialist with the 302nd Force Support Squadron at nearby Peterson Air Force Base, and his family were a part of the more than 32,000 residents evacuated from the northwest side of Colorado Springs during the Waldo Canyon fire. The fire, which began June 23, quickly overwhelmed a number of established lines of defense, and the Mountain Shadows community was engulfed by flames. It was a sight Williamson remembers vividly.

"My mom and cousin were watching TV for more information on the fire, so they had no clue the fire was picking up steam and moving down the ridge," he said. "My dad was outside watering some plants when he saw the fire coming down (the ridge) and getting into the (Flying W) Ranch. That's when we received the reverse 911 call, but we had already made the decision to leave 15 minutes before. It happened so suddenly with the huge gusts of wind."

The Flying W Ranch, a popular tourist site since 1953, was about 100 feet from Williamson's home. It, too, would become a casualty of the fire.

With the reverse 911 notification on one of his parent's cell phones, Williamson and his family finished packing their two vehicles with as many family heirlooms and other important items as possible. In addition, they helped their neighbors prepare for their own evacuation. Williamson recounted how he, his brother and cousin rang their neighbors' doorbells, passing along the message they were dreading: It was time to go.

"Our next-door neighbors actually didn't know anything about (the growing fire)," he said. "After that, they started packing right away. Our neighbors really came together."

With their neighbors tended to, Williamson and his family left the neighborhood and began driving east, navigating their way through thick, dark smoke that had turned day into night. As the 65-mph winds shifted in their direction, smoke and ash rained down, even getting into Williamson's eyes. As more residents heeded the mandatory evacuation call, the two-lane roads heading toward Interstate 25 were quickly backing up with more vehicles escaping the encroaching blaze.

Despite the chaos, Williamson said he and his family maintained a positive demeanor.

"We were pretty calm because we had gone through practice procedures for some different things when we were younger," he said. "Growing up, we'd go through drills on little emergency procedures. I didn't want to stress out too much because stressing about something you don't know is wasting a lot of energy."

As the Williamson family faced the hardship of leaving their home behind, a few miles away members of his Reserve unit at Peterson AFB were fighting back against the wildfire. Flying two C-130s equipped with the Modular Airborne Fire Fighting System, aircrews and ground personnel began performing aerial firefighting missions the day before, June 25. The Reserve aircraft, together with two more MAFFS-equipped C-130s from the Wyoming Air National Guard's 153rd AW, had made more than 20 drops along the canyon's ridgelines, helping to contain the fire with an estimated 52,000 gallons of retardant.

But as the afternoon of June 26 wore on, MAFFS missions were abruptly halted as heavy winds shifted the fire's direction, creating dangerous flying conditions.

C-130 aircrews and maintenance personnel watched as the fire's smoke plumes grew to nearly 36,000 feet high. Emergency radio broadcasts revealed the unthinkable: The fire had jumped not one but two critical containment lines. The raging fire was beginning to destroy structures and was setting its sights on the U.S. Air Force Academy. As the fire's ferociousness grew, mandatory evacuations in northwest Colorado Springs were expanded from the Mountain Shadows area to include military housing on the academy itself.

Describing the day's turn of events, Air Force Reservist Maj. Greg Berry, MAFFS mission commander, said the Airmen looking west to the mountains were "all concerned."

"This (fire) is getting very personal and very close to home," Berry said on the evening of the firestorm. "It's a whole new ball game, and we want to do everything we can. People who are doing the mission are now being affected."

As fires lit up the night skies, weather conditions began to change. The next morning, the U.S. Forest Service requested MAFFS missions in support of the Waldo Canyon fire to continue. By June 29, the Reserve and Guard had performed a total of 50 MAFFS drop missions, discharging 133,554 gallons of retardant.

The Williamson family had escaped the fire and was now staying at Jason's grandmother's house. A week after Williamson and his family left their home, city officials started to update homeowners on the condition of their evacuated homes. Once firefighters and aerial firefighting aircraft contained the fire, the evacuation order was lifted, allowing the families to return to their homes -- or their charred remains.
Williamson and his brother drove back to their home on Linger Way to see firsthand the destruction the fire had unleashed.

"We prepared ourselves for the worst driving through our neighborhood," he said. "You have that feeling inside that maybe it's not so bad. But once we saw it, we knew that it was definitely gone. The house had burned all the way down to the foundation. Even the beams inside the house were warped and melted. Nothing survived. Once that reality hit, other thoughts started racing in my head: I should have grabbed this, and I should have grabbed that."

Williamson partially attributed his relatively calm reaction to the crisis to his military training.

"The day we saw the fire over the ridge, I told my parents that there were things we really needed, like documentation and things that were hard to replace," he said. "I'm sure I learned these basics through military training."

Williamson's story was shared by many Colorado Springs residents who resided in the northwest corner of the city. In all, nearly 350 homes throughout the area burned to the ground. When it was finally over, the Waldo Canyon Fire would be the costliest wildfire in Colorado history, totaling more than $352 million in damages.

Looking back, Williamson said his family never thought they would be faced with the prospect of fleeing their home.

"It's still kind of hard to believe and think about," he said. "You go out to the property and it hits you: Wow, it really did happen."

As for where the Williamsons plan to make their new home, the future is uncertain.

"We are still deciding whether to rebuild or move on," he said. "For my mom, I know it's hard for her to give out her address when someone asks for it. ... she kind of breaks down a little bit. My dad, he doesn't really express emotion, but you can see it in his face. When everything is fine and I hear a siren or see a fire, it's easy to get a little bit of that post-traumatic stress where your heart sinks down a little bit. It's still kind of hard to believe and think about."

(Ann Skarban, 302nd AW chief of public affairs, contributed to this story.)