Colleen Cason: Venturans will rise from the ashes of Thomas Fire

Colleen Cason
Special to Ventura County Star
Colleen Cason

New Orleans has two distinct eras: Before Katrina and Post Katrina. 

Previous to the hurricane breaching the levees, folks in the City that Care Forgot might joke about their vulnerability to floods. That changed Aug. 29, 2005, when 80 percent of the city was submerged. Katrina produced in the city known for Mardi Gras madness a parade of human misery no one imagined could come to pass on the modern American continent.

Although fire danger never has been to my knowledge comic fodder in Ventura, the Poinsettia City also may divide its history into two eras: Before Thomas and Post Thomas.

Despite the inevitability of fire season, despite what we saw in the wine country blazes of October, few imagined that established Ventura neighborhoods could go up in flames.

Read more:Thomas Fire live updates

Then, just days after residents delighted in holding a mock wake for Sham Hock the inflatable pig, the Thomas Fire destroyed hundreds of structures within the city limits.

Sandy Fuller has seen fire and water at their worst. With a contingent from her church, the Venturan helped New Orleans homeowners rebuild Post Katrina. Then, around dawn on Tuesday of last week, she watched from a neighbor’s house as the Thomas Fire destroyed her home in the Clearpoint neighborhood, a hillside enclave northeast of Ventura College. 

“It literally took seconds,” she said describing the blaze’s intensity as more like the work of flamethrowers than of Mother Nature. 

Sandy and Ed Fuller filled their Ventura home with family photos that now only exist digitally after their Clearpoint home burned to the ground in the Thomas Fire last week.

She was making jam on Monday evening when her daughter called to alert her to the fire then burning near Thomas Aquinas College, 20 miles from the Fuller home.

A few weeks earlier, she’d had a premonition and decided to walk around the house making a mental list of what she would take in case of fire. There was the artwork painted by her mother, who died only six weeks ago, the paperwork for her mom’s estate, insurance documents, enough clothing to get through an evacuation.

As wind drove the fire at freeway speeds, she opened cabinets and drawers to take photos for insurance purposes. She started grabbing things, asking herself, “Can this be replaced?” until time ran out.

With help of friends, she and her husband of 40 years, Ed, loaded a pickup and headed down the hill. At 1:30 a.m., they thought the threat had passed and went to bed. Three hours later, Clearpoint was on fire. 

Read more:In the Ventura hillsides, a resolve to rebuild after the Thomas Fire

With four grown children and two grandchildren, the Fullers bought their home six years ago as a sad fixer-upper and remade it into a sanctuary for family and friends.

“It wasn’t just a home. They invited people dealing with death and illness to come there and be made anew,” said Lynda Bowman of Westlake Village, a family friend and activist for foster children.

As part of that TLC, Sandy served guests a morning espresso in special mugs, which the flames shattered. When I spoke with her on Thursday, she had already ordered their replacements online.

The hierarchy of possessions has changed for her since the blaze. A few days after the fire, she attended a Christmas party where friends presented her with gifts.

“I thought, ‘This is the only bow I have now, this is the only potholder, the only throw blanket,’” she said.

She and Ed hiked up to their lot a few days after the fire. Outdoor decorative iron pieces given to her by her mother were intact but still too hot to pick up. 

“To find treasures like that was like a little piece of heaven,” she said. 

A self-described “major cook,” she misses terribly her recipes.

“If I ever gave you a recipe, I want it back,” she tells friends. 

I often ask people who suffer a loss to disaster: What do you wish you didn’t know now that you didn’t know before? 

She thinks back on a man in a wheelchair in New Orleans. Unscrupulous contractors bilked him in the rebuilding of his home. After her volunteer crew restored his power and water, he sat and wept. 

“The den of wolves is here, too,” she told me. She spotted strangers parked at the police roadblocks offering to represent or assist fire victims, vowing to “fight for you.” One of the greatest services anyone can do for disaster victims, she said, is to refer them to reputable contractors.

In their late 50s, the Fullers plan to rebuild on their lot. To keep themselves from feeling overwhelmed, they tell themselves the process will take two years. They already are envisioning the Post Thomas home where they again can welcome family and friends. 

“They are starting to dream,” said Bowman, of the Fullers, who have faced a nightmare that Before Thomas was beyond imagining. 

Email Colleen Cason at casonpoint101@gmail.com.