A Flatlander remembers - views of the Oakland Hills inferno

It was Oct. 20, 1991, less than one year since I moved to California, settling in to the flatlands of Oakland's Temescal district. A friend from New York had recently purchased a house there. With warm climate and a yard, I decided to try an old hand at gardening. My roommate and I decided to take a trip to the local nursery on 52nd Street, not far from home. I exited the back door and gasped at the sight of a big, black almost tornado-like plume. I couldn't tell its exact location. It appeared to be awfully close. I had a very ominous feeling. We went forward with our plans.

Shortly after we returned home, my roommate had a class to attend. I didn't own a car in those days. Eventually, the severity of the situation was broadcast. Just how far it would go, was beyond the imagination. Those were the days before cellphones. Getting in touch with my roommate wasn't possible. I paid close attention to the news. They said that my way out, BART, would be shutting down. I watched neighbors pack up belongings and head out. I was conflicted about what to do. I decided to stay.

A firefighter keeps an eye on his partner who is sprawled on a lawn and recovering from exhaustion while other firefighters continue to battle blazes in a residential area in Oakland, Calif., on Oct. 20, 1991. (AP Photo/Glen Morimoto, File) less A firefighter keeps an eye on his partner who is sprawled on a lawn and recovering from exhaustion while other firefighters continue to battle blazes in a residential area in Oakland, Calif., on Oct. 20, 1991. ... more Photo: Glen Morimoto, AP Photo: Glen Morimoto, AP Image 1 of / 39 Caption Close A Flatlander remembers - views of the Oakland Hills inferno 1 / 39 Back to Gallery

By now, the charred remnants of peoples' lives were raining down on us pretty steadily. There was a page from a children's book, burnt evenly around the edge that floated to earth, landing in my yard. I collected some of the burnt items. I don't know what became of them. The sky obscured by thick smoke, became steel gray, with a bright orange orb showing through. I hosed down the roof until I saw on the news that it was affecting the water pressure and hampering the firefighters' attempts to combat the conflagration, a word oft heard through the night. I called my mother in New York and said, "Oakland's on fire." She responded with a "What!" It may have been a bit of an exaggeration. But, she turned on the TV and I could hear her say, "Oh, my God". She would call me every hour through the night. I didn't get much sleep.

After several hours my roommate returned home. We hugged. We walked through the neighborhood. The air was smoky and acrid. There were people handing out masks. It was starting to get dark and we headed home. I went out on the back porch and was shocked that I could see the flames so clearly. My roommate and I were filled with anxiety. I figured that since they were evacuating people to our neighborhood, that we'd be okay. I heard on the news that we would also be evacuated if the fire jumped across Broadway Terrace. Except for the persistent sounds of helicopters droning about Lake Temescal to scoop water to douse the fire, it was eerily quiet.

We decided to keep ourselves busy to take our minds off the situation. We did what one does during an approaching wildfire, baked pies. Well, she did most of the baking. I kept close to TV and radio, tracking the progress of the fire. It was a long night. I was afraid to go to sleep. I don't know if my fear was irrational. But, information during those days wasn't as instant and comprehensive as it is today. By morning, it seemed like we'd be OK. The reports were coming in showing the devastation, 25 dead, 2,843 single family homes and 437 apartments or condos were destroyed from the fire that had begun as a small grass fire on October 19.

I used to wander the Oakland Hills with one of my roommates. We'd share a bag of fries from Barney's on Piedmont Avenue as we strolled passed Julia Morgan architecture and other stately homes, on tree lined streets. Who knew those eucalyptus trees would become vertical bombs, fueling a ravenous inferno. I did return to the hills shortly after the fire. They were still monitoring for hot spots, and much of the area was cordoned off. A friend of my roommate, who lived in the hills, was out of town during the fire. She didn't learn of it until she was greeted at the airport. She didn't know if her house was still standing, or if her cat had survived. I volunteered to go with her to check.

We drove around the hills, looking for a way in. There was a side street that wasn't roped off and in we went. We made our way to her house. Miraculously, it was the only one standing, destruction all around. It looked like apocalyptic post WWII Europe. Amazingly, her cat managed to survive, too.

Another of my roommate's friends, who lived in another neighborhood in the hills, was also out of town during the fire. But, she had heard about it before she returned home. She convinced the firemen to let her check on the status of her house. It was also miraculously still standing. When she got to the house, she noticed smoke coming from underneath it. She summoned the firemen. It turned out that a glowing log had rolled under the house and was starting to burn into the sub-flooring. They were able to extinguish it before any major damage could be done. Had she not checked on the house, it most likely would have been destroyed.