Over the last week, a lot has changed in our little community of Thousand Oaks, and the Conejo Valley. Within four of the shortest, longest days, we were the site of the most recent mass shooting, where twelve young souls were gunned down at the Borderline, a country western bar, a mile from my house. The next day, as we mourned, fires erupted to the north and South East of us, and ended up raging through our community for three days straight as it pushed towards the ocean. The Hill Fire and Woolsey Fire have become the most destructive fires our small community has ever seen. Many friends lost everything. From my son’s school alone, 17 families lost their homes, and from his district the unofficial count is 90 families lost their homes to the Woolsey Fire. Two of those families we have known and since Avett started Transitional Kindergarten…two of his favorite friends lost everything.
We are all walking around heartbroken.
We want to biggest heartfelt thank you to all the first responders, and their families for sacrificing so much for others.
// We need your help. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. We need your help. //
I have gathered a list of ways to contribute, if you would like to help those affected by the shooting, or fires rebuild their lives. Please consider donating to one or all of the fundraisers below.
All fundraisers have been verified as legitimate (by the city, or myself, as I know them personally).
- The Albright Family: Their youngest son, is one of one of my oldest son’s favorite friends since they started TK together. I love this family…they are such a kind, generous and hard working family. They lost their entire home to the Woolsey Fire: ALBRIGHT FAMILY GO FUND ME LINK, CLICK HERE.
- The Gennet Family: Also a favorite friend and family, from my son’s school since our boys started school together in TK. A sweet, sweet family who lost their entire home in Seminole Springs to the Woolsey Fire. GENNET FAMILY GO FUND ME LINK, CLICK HERE
- Barbara McCann: Barbara is a friend of my mom’s, They have works just feet from one another for a number of years. Barbara is always the first to come over and visit with me and my boys when we visit their Mimi at work. She loved her life at Malibou Lake, living in a small, historical cabin, over 100 years old. Her home was completely lost in the Woolsey Fire, and like many families, she barley made it out, with her neighbors, with only her dog, before the flames moved into the area. BARBARA MCCANN GO FUND ME LINK, CLICK HERE
- The Tuverson Family: I know Ximena through Fit4Mom, where she is both an active member and instructor. She is such a kind and thoughtful human. Their house in Malibu Canyon was lost completely to the Woolsey Fire. TUVERSON FAMILY GO FUND ME LINK< CLICK HERE
- Seminole Springs Neighborhood: Of 215 homes in the tight-knit community of Seminole Springs in Malibu Canyon, more than 100 homes were completely destroyed in the Woolsey Fire. Two of my best friends’ mom has lived in this neighborhood for over twenty years. She is trying to help the neighborhood as a whole rebuild, and it’s going to take A LOT of labor and money to see any progress, beyond what insurance will provide. Friends living in the same neighborhood who did not lose their homes will not be able to retuen until clean up is complete due to the toxicity of the clean up. SEMINOLE SPRINGS MOBILE HOME PARK, GO FUND ME LINK, CLICK HERE
- Sumac Elementary + Las Virgenes School District: My son’s school alone, in the Las Virgenes School District, has at least 17 families that we know of, who lost their homes to the fires. The district itself may have at least 90 families who lost their homes. You can help support those families by donating directly through the district, and all money will go into the hands of the families. LAS VIRGENES FIRE RELIEF, CLICK HERE
- Borderline Shooting Victims: The OFFICIAL, verified fund for raising money for families of the 12 shooting victims, and others affected by the Borderline Shooting. VENTURA COUNTY COMMUNITY FOUNDATION LINK, CLICK HERE
// the hardest week //
Thousand Oaks. This is my hometown and forever town.
Collectively, we’ve had the hardest week. Just one week, but it has felt like months have past. Each day since the last, looking more different than the one before.
Wednesday night I woke up to the sound of sirens, helicopters, and news of an active shooter at the Borderline. Just a mile from our house, and a place full of memories from my high school college days.
In the the early morning hours of Thursday, I fell asleep and awoke two hours later to still the sound of helicopters and the news that 12 young souls lost their lives, including an off-duty Sheriff, Sgt. Helus, who ran into the gun fire to save lives.
That same morning, we mourned. Our town silently lined the streets and corners and over passes, to wave our thank yous and love as the procession slowly moved Sgt. Helus north. We all cried quietly together. We turned and as a crowd of hundreds, together we lined up to share the only thing we had to offer…our blood.
By early Thursday afternoon, dark mushroom clouds of smoke were rising over our city. Again, Thursday night, we did not sleep. We watched the news as two fires swept into our city to the north and from the east, and then South. Video footage of freeways closed, jumping fire, homes burning, wind gusts spreading embers like rain.
Friday, early morning, still awake from Thursday, and some of us, still awake from Wednesday, we evacuated following back roads, and one of the few routes still open out of our valley, as the fire raged through to the south and into Malibu Canyon.
Friday daytime, we waited. Scared to look at our phones that we couldn’t put down, as we received messages of friends’ homes, safe or fallen. Again, we cried together. Friday night, more homes evacuated, and this time we stayed, and instead friends joined us as they evacuated their home in the path of the flames.
Saturday morning our town was quiet. Eerily quiet. A city evacuated, while the fire was anything but quiet, still pushing to the sea, both above us and below us. Distracted by the ominous cloud of smoke before me, I did not see it, until I looked in front of me, that I was sitting at a street light I had waited at one thousand times before. But this was the first time since Wednesday. This time, my everyday corner was covered in yellow tape, officers waking behind bushes. Broken windows. The Borderline. It hit me like a punch to the chest. I couldn’t breathe, and the tears came again.
Was the next day Sunday? Maybe. There is a quick memory of passing more fire trucks and helicopters than cars on the road. The hills above the freeway, striped with red-pink retardant. one quick memory before it’s the next day again.
Monday, more mandatory evacuations lifted, and word that from my son’s small school of at least 17 families who have lost their homes to the fires. Waves of guilt and sadness come together as more tears.
Tuesday, anxiety taps on each of our shoulders twice again. More morning and evening flames and huge plumes of smoke on the mountains above us, powerful, yet brief in the shadow of the week. Cars are loaded once again, to move out of the way of the fire, some told to leave, others could stayed.
Five months later, but actually it’s only been one week. Here we are again. We haven’t had time to process, let alone mourn. Twelve special lives were taken from us at the Borderline. We don’t want to forget them. As the smoke clears, the sadness and memories return. And the tears are on our cheeks again.
Nobody knows what day it is. Nobody knows which way if up from down.
Normal feels hard right now. Normal hardly feels right. When you’ve had a week like this, and you know that friends to the North have had the hardest week, and probably harder, too, all the normal stuff is just… i don’t know…not normal.
And a new week begins. But this week, I feel a little, but probably a lot more than a little, closer to the community I have always called home. And I don’t think I’m the only one.
// Here are some favorite images from our many adventures around our beautiful stomping ground of Thousand Oaks, Malibu Canyon, and the Santa Monica Mountains. //
All places we’ve never not called home…some are safe, some were lost to the fire.
All shot on iPhone6S
