Displaced, but nowhere to go

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Retired schoolteacher Georgianne King was awakened at her home in south Escondido at 4 a.m. by an automated telephone call urging her to evacuate. She assumed officials were being overcautious and decided to wait until she could see flames.

A couple of hours later, she heard a plea on television for people to evacuate if they’d been told to leave, so that firefighters could concentrate on fighting the fire. Guilt worked where fear hadn’t. At 7 a.m., she loaded her cat, Gracie, into the car and left.

Evacuating proved more difficult than she’d imagined. Her first thought was to get to her daughter’s in San Diego, but I-15 was closed. So she went to Escondido High School, a refugee center. It was so crowded already that she couldn’t find a place to park. After a quick breakfast at McDonald’s, she headed for a friend’s home.

The woman’s son, his wife and their children were already there, and another displaced son was expected soon with his family. So she headed for the coast, thinking she’d go to the home of another daughter, but I-5 north was jammed. So she headed south and was finally able to get to her San Diego daughter’s house.

King has lived on the same chaparral-covered hillside for nearly 30 years, and she loves the quiet and the view. But she’s always been aware of the peril.

‘The hills are so beautiful. But they’re also so flammable. It’s a bad combination.’

-- Sue Horton