ORANGE COUNTY PERSPECTIVE ON FIRE : Threat of Losing It All Brings Lessons We’d Rather Not Learn : The need for an evacuation plan was among lessons learned. A disaster is no time for on-the-job training.

When I awakened Wednesday, it looked like another beautiful day in Laguna Beach.

I went about my day and was returning from a meeting around 2:15 p.m. when I heard on the radio that a fire was raging in Laguna Beach.

I quickly drove home. When I got there, I had no idea what to do. My husband was in Los Angeles, my eldest son was at Thurston Middle School, and my two youngest children were at school in Aliso Viejo.

The phone rang, and it was a friend driving home from work in Connecticut. The fire had already hit the news back East. While I was explaining my situation, I started to cry. Since my friend had never heard me cry before, she knew this was serious.

Then my brother-in-law called from the Valley. He knew that we have a wood shake roof with huge eucalyptus trees all around. While our house is across the street from the ocean, it also faces a canyon. He could hear the fear in my voice, so he started giving me instructions: Put the sprinklers on, get on the roof and start hosing it down.

Get on the roof? Only the kids know how to get on the roof. I was going to wait for my boys to come home to do that. Put the sprinklers on? They are automated and have some type of 21st-Century contraption on them. I went outside to figure it out. I found a switch and moved it from “automated” to “manual.” Nothing happened. I found two garden hoses and tried to connect them. They wouldn’t connect.

It was time to find my husband. I called his workplace and explained to somebody that there was a raging fire not far from our home and to please have my husband call.

I started watering down our balcony, but the hose didn’t reach very far. I tried throwing the hose up on the roof. Water and the hose flew back at me. Soaking wet, I went back into the house.

It was now close to 4 p.m. Where was my eldest son? The school bus should have delivered him 30 minutes ago. I got on the phone. Finally, I got through to someone who told me all the schoolchildren had been taken to an evacuation center at Dana Hills High School. I was told that if I went to get him, I wouldn’t be allowed back into Laguna because Coast Highway had now been closed from Newport Beach to Crown Valley Parkway.

As I was on the phone trying to find out about where my son was, I saw smoke in the canyon by our house. My fear about a fire starting in our canyon was realized. I ran outside and saw several people dousing the flames.

I found a neighbor watering down his roof and asked him for help with mine. He took a look at the smoke above and in our canyon, my wood shake roof and eucalyptus trees, and said, “Sarah, pack up your car and get the heck out of here. One spark on these trees and roof and your house will be gone!”

Just then the phone rang. My husband had finally gotten through. He was on his way home and would pick up the two smaller kids; and I would load the car and get my eldest son at the evacuation center. I started running around the house. What did we need to take? What was valuable?

The first things I gathered were my son’s autographed Mike Piazza memorabilia and his Alonzo Mourning and Shaquille O’Neal autographed photographs. I grabbed some clothes and started putting jewelry into a bag. Then I started taking photographs off the wall and ran and got our photo album from Dodger fantasy camp. (I foolishly neglected to take all my Duke Snider souvenirs.)

I gathered a few more items, including my original “To Kill a Mockingbird” poster, signed by Gregory Peck. I was about to take photographs of our belongings when a smoke alarm went off next door. I decided I better get out fast, so I put the answering machine on (I figured if we called it later and if it picked up, we would know our house was still around). I drove off, headed south on PCH to the evacuation center at Dana Hills High School. The usual 10-minute drive took me almost an hour.

I had never been to an evacuation center before. Volunteers were everywhere and unbelievably helpful. A woman checked my identification and then brought my son to me. He was so much more calm than I. His calmness had a deep effect on me.

We hooked up with my husband and two other children at a friend’s house in Mission Viejo. On the way there, we could see flames all over the county.

At 3:15 a.m., my husband called our answering machine. It was alive.

I was awakened at 5:30 a.m. by the smell of smoke. My husband, son and I decided to try to go home. We parked at PCH and Crown Valley Parkway and started walking toward home, which was 2 1/2 miles away. Along the way, we were stopped by sheriff’s deputies and told that we would not be able to get farther than West Street, which was one mile south of our house. Undaunted, we kept walking. To circumvent the deputies, we walked along the ocean, where no deputies were staked out.

We got home and found no damage. Only extreme amounts of smoke and ash. We lost nothing--but some dear friends had lost everything.

A great deal was learned from the last several days: With all of Southern California’s potential calamities, we should have full evacuation plans, with copies of all-important documents and insurance papers kept in a safe location outside of the house. I also learned that disasters are no time for on-the-job-training and that everyone in the house should know how things work, especially the basics, such as sprinklers and hoses.

In the final analysis, whether people found their homes intact or a sea of ashes, no one was hurt and loved ones were together. That was the most important thing--and the most important lesson.