Wizz, Bang

If the first day of 2006 is a meter for the rest of the year, the prairie is in trouble.

I wish I had lenslinger's skill with words to write about 1/1/06 coherently. But I just didn't have the patience to get it all out.

I didn't have time on Sunday to even think about my digital camera, so today I took some still photos of my video. The quality isn't great, but it'll show what I can't write.

We knew it was going to be bad. The drought and abnormal heat have kept the whole area under a burn ban since November. All the grass is dry and the prairie is basically a pile of kindling. The tiniest spark could make it all go.

It happened only a month ago and we weren't prepared. This time we were expecting it.

I won't dwell on the minute details on the first half of the day. It involved waiting, driving, getting redirected, driving... At about 5 o'clock is when it gets interesting.

My reporter, Carrie, and I were sent to a small town about an hour south. We could see the smoke for miles. It hung thickly on the horizon. We pulled off the freeway and headed into town. Almost immediately to our right, the ground was black. Right next to the road it was black. Then you start to notice that the black kept going. And going... For what seemed like mile. On the horizon was an eerie orange glow.


According to a volunteer Fireman, the fire started with an electrical spark from a transformer. It took down a vacant house and just kept going.

I got some pictures of the house and the vastness of the burnt land before we ventured into the fray. We met up with the SAT truck driver, Andrew, and went for it. That was the last bit of clean air I can remember breathing.

Just up the road, fire consumed a large pile of hay. I shot some pictures, while the Andrew scouted out the road ahead. There was a massive orange glow, but there was no way to get there. Not everything was on fire at that moment, but in three directions I saw three different fires and evidence that the ground I was standing on had recently burned.

While trying to get through, Andrew hit a dead end and we didn't know where to go. Neither of us had a map of the area. Every road was gravel. We had to get to the action, so we just drove.

Several frustrating u-turns later, a nice local told us where to go.

After a short drive, the orange glow became distinguishable flames.

Conscious of the deadline, we split up again, Andrew drove towards the flames to get video. Carrie and I found a neighbor who was praying that the fire wouldn't hit his house. His name is L'Arthur Craig and he had lived in the same house since 1964 and had never seen anything like this before. He and his family stood on their front lawn watching the fire creep along their neighbors land.

After and interview and some pictures, Carrie and I moved on to meet Andrew. He had already gotten great video so we found the farmer for another interview. He was a very nice man who speculated that over a thousand acres had burned in the area. His hay was burning as we spoke, and he was missing 20 cows, some of which he heard crying while they were burned to death.

This was about 8:00, and an hour and a half later we had to be on TV. The next chunk of time was relatively uneventful. The wind died down. Carrie logged tape and wrote our story. Andrew set up the live shot. I waited for my turn to edit, finally getting a chance to catch my breath, albeit, smoke-filled and short-lived, but at least it was something.

While I was editing the winds started to shift. The bales of hay that were smoldering about 30 feet in front of us were once again flaming and blowing right towards us. Carrie went out to rescue the monitor and lights that Andrew had set up while I raced to finish. I didn't even get a chance to watch my story from beginning to end before Andrew fed it back and I raced to help Carrie reset a safer distance away.

The wind was at Carrie's back, which means the smoke, dust and embers were blowing right towards me. A huge cloud picked up right as Carrie went on air. I couldn't even keep my eyes open because the dust was so bad. Right after our live hit we got word that we had to tear down and race back to town. The fires were threatening close to home. We raced to get on the road. We were at least an hour away. After helping Andrew with the truck, Carrie and I jumped in our newscar and turned back to the freeway. But we didn't get far.


The shifting winds had moved the fire right in our path. The smoke, dust and flames blew thickly over our exit. The first man we had interviewed that night, L'Arthur Craig, was now fighting to stop the fire from getting his house.


We called the station and told them what we saw. The told us to set up and stay right where we were. Again, we raced to get it done and get a picture up. We could see L'Arthur silouetted against the fire. Fire fighters raced up and down the street next to us, on a constant back and forth to get more water.

The fire zig-zagged across the prairie.

The three of us soon had the shot up and we went live a couple more times. Back at the station, the powers that be decided to extend our newscast to 10:30. I got as much video as I could while tethered to the live truck, but wanted to get into the fray. We got word that the newcast would go until 11:00, and I got frustrated standing and watching, so Andrew got his camera and took over while I crossed the street to the fire.



Volunteer fire fighters soaked the ground with water to keep the fire from spreading to the house. The shed was a completely loss and all they could do was control it.



All L'Arthur could do was watch.


Soon it was 11 and time to get home. In the end we had spent six hours in the smoke and fire and an hour and a half on tv. We tired, dirty and everything was covered in soot. We still had an hour drive home...

But at least we got to go home.

Until we get a good rain, the prairie is like a pile of kindling. We're rushing out the door on any report of fire. So days like Sunday are likely to repeat...

The National Weather Service says:
FIRE DANGER WILL REMAIN HIGH FOR THURSDAY AND FRIDAY BEFORE BECOMING VERY HIGH OR EVEN EXTREME ON SATURDAY. A RED FLAG WARNING MAY BE NEEDED FOR SATURDAY AS SOUTHWESTERLY WINDS INCREASE IN ADVANCE OF AN APPROACHING COLD FRONT.

Sounds like fun.

*note: It was brought to my attention that it is unclear if the Craig home was saved or not. Thanks to all the hard work of the fire fighters, the fire did not get to his house. The shed was a complete loss, but the Craigs still have a home.