When we first arrived, no one was there.
At 9 or 10 p.m., my mom and some other firefighters came back with ash on their faces, and they were crying. I could hear voices coming through on my mom’s walkie-talkie, and at one point, I heard someone say the fire was headed toward my neighborhood. I asked my mom, “Is our house going to be OK?” She said, “Nope, I don’t think so.”
Then my dad said, “We have to leave. The fire could get here.” We got in the car and tried to go one way, but there was so much traffic that the road was blocked. I could see a giant, glowing smoke cloud devouring my neighborhood.
I didn’t think we’d make it out, but somehow, we did. We ended up at a fire station in a nearby town, where we saw some friends who offered to let us stay at their house.