On Jan. 9, I stood shoulder to shoulder with nearly 2,000 people in Montecito’s Lower Manning Park, all of us drawn there to mark the one-year anniversary of the deadly flash flooding and debris flows that ruptured our bucolic community.
A year after the Jan. 9, 2018, disaster, we remain heartbroken for the family and friends we lost that horrific morning. Many of us are still struggling with a physical recovery that is yet years from completion. The mental anguish may never go away.
The Raising Our Light event — which featured a ceremony at the park followed by a mile-long procession down San Ysidro Road to All Saints By-the-Sea Episcopal Church — was organized by local community leaders to bring comfort, camaraderie and a pathway to healing.
Always intending to attend, that Wednesday I was suddenly unsure if I would. Was I exhausted from sadness or just feeling a bit lost? I spoke to others in the 93108 that day and some were afraid it would rain, others were still too fragile or did not want to be reminded of what happened.
As I made my way to my Ortega Ridge perch in the late afternoon, my own memory was jogged by, of all things, the road itself. I was driving on the very street that had cut me off for 2½ weeks from my life as I knew it then, before becoming the route for an unceasing line of dump trucks.
Once home on Summerland Hill, I was caught off guard by the staggering beauty of the brilliant orange sunset. It seemed to be a positive sign that I am still here, but it also was an ironic reminder of what so many Montecito residents awoke to that fateful morning: an indelible sky brightly ablaze from a gas line explosion that preceded the day’s horror.
I chronicled my own experience after the Thomas Fire and the Montecito disaster in many of my columns last year.
Running late as usual, I dressed quickly in my warmest clothes and took the locals’ back roads to the park, finding a parking spot on dark Lemon Grove Lane across from the Montecito Family YMCA.
I joined the largely silent caravan of attendees making their way to the large field below, and maneuvered near the illuminated canopied stage where representatives from the Chumash tribe were chanting a haunting melody followed by the blowing of a shofar (ram’s horn), an ancient Jewish tradition.
Welcomes began with Anthony Ranii, superintendent of the Montecito Union School District, followed by Brian McWilliams, head of school at Santa Barbara Middle School, who introduced family friend Lauren Cantin. Lauren — who survived the onslaught, along with her mom, Kim, but lost her dad and brother — sang a tug-at-your-heartstrings rendition of “Amazing Grace” that left few with dry eyes.
The Rev. Aimée Eyer-Delevett, rector at All Saints Church, which served as a makeshift triage center and shelter for hundreds of people for most of that awful day, invited the crowd to walk down the street to the church, where parishioners would be serving hot soup from the Organic Soup Kitchen and cupcakes from the Rosewood Miramar Beach. Just as important, the church’s magnificent sanctuary would be open to all.
The 23 names of those who died, from age 2 to 85, were read aloud, each one a piercing reminder of loss for loved ones. I knew many who perished, but have since learned about the others and their life stories.
Carie Baker-Corey read a poem written by her 12-year-old daughter, Sawyer, who was killed in the catastrophe along with her older sister, Morgan. Baker-Corey and Sawyer’s twin sister, Summer, were badly injured but survived.
The sweet innocent voices of the combined children’s choir from Cold Spring, Crane Country Day, Laguna Blanca, Montecito Union and Our Lady of Mount Carmel schools singing “This Little Light of Mine” had me feeling sad but surprisingly hopeful.
Suzanne Gramercy let people know that counselors in colored vests were on hand to help those still struggling with recovery.
It has been a hard, hard year, and everyone has felt the loss. At the same time, everyone has pitched in to bring hope for the future. We have a long way to go but the strength of our community and life itself is leading us back into the light.
— Judy Foreman is a Noozhawk columnist and longtime local writer and lifestyles observer. She can be contacted at news@noozhawk.com. Click here for previous columns. The opinions expressed are her own.