Winds Swell Blaze Into an Inferno

Even in a region numbingly accustomed to wildfires and rapid evacuations, this one swept in with awful suddenness and incinerated 28 homes with wind-whipped speed.

For most residents of these piney mountains in southern New Mexico, it was another bright Saturday. Two modest fires were burning in adjacent forests, but in the newly built subdivisions known as Kokopelli, canny locals were not overly concerned.

“A friend called to say there was fire coming our way, but we thought she was panicking,” Sue Ludwig said. “My husband and I got up on the roof to take a look down the valley. I saw clouds of black smoke and then flames coming toward us. We knew it was time to get . . . outof Dodge.”

By Sunday, the Ludwigs were among the hundreds of area residents who were dining courtesy of the Red Cross and sleeping on strangers’ couches, taken in by down-mountain neighbors.

It was a third, smaller fire that sneaked up on residents--its apparent cause stupefying to many here, given their acute sensitivity to the potential devastation. Gov. Gary Johnson said Sunday the fire was sparked when a local homeowner dumped what he believed were harmless fireplace ashes into his backyard.

Officials said Sunday that the 800-acre blaze was 60% contained and more than 150 homes had been evacuated. No injuries were reported, and residents are expected to be able to return home today.

Here, a short drive from the picturesque Valley of Fires, people are used to the ferocious ways of wildfires. Residents were evacuated two years ago during the devastating Cree Fire. They watched last summer as the West was engulfed in the worst fire season on record.

They drill, they pack bags with precious keepsakes, and they work to maintain a fire perimeter around their homes. Still, Saturday’s blaze raced up a hill almost before anyone knew it.

However small it began, the fire was rapidly fanned by 60 mph winds. Propelled by the hot and gusting winds, the flames blew quickly into four subdivisions.

Deborah Brown was napping on her couch Saturday, hung over after coming home late Friday after celebrating her daughter’s 21st birthday. A friend called to say evacuations were ordered. Brown tried to open her front door, but the force of the wind prevented her. It already was peeling the siding off her house.

Even though Brown had been evacuated three other times, in her cloudy mind, all she could think of was getting out of her pajamas and taking a bath.

“You just have no common sense at times like that,” Brown said Sunday, her feet still tucked into fuzzy black house slippers. “I know all about packing a bag and saving pictures. I didn’t. My daughter and I got in the car and got out. I was so worried that my neighbors weren’t home--they have a car in the house and a dog tied up. But we couldn’t get to them. It’s just devastating to drive through all that.”

The fire’s caprice was evident by Sunday morning. A perfectly preserved home stood next to a charred lot. To some witnesses, the fire seemed to dance violently up and down pine trees. In many places, homeowners’ diligence paid off; brush clearing and even ditch digging saved many homes in the middle of the conflagration.

The subdivisions are populated with a mix of retirees, Texans with second homes and hardscrabble full-time residents. Locals appeared to be hardest hit.

Ludwig, who lives in an upscale development of million-dollar-plus homes, watched the fire’s path as she fled.

“I’ve never seen anything move so fast,” she said. “I was trying to get to a friend’s house to get their dogs. I was driving along and, suddenly, a house just exploded. I just had to get out.”

Like most evacuees, the Ludwigs are staying with local residents who showed up the Red Cross office Saturday offering help. Ludwig gestured around the table--a modest dinner hosted at the local country club, with two earnest guitarists playing country songs--and pointed out her new housemates. The three couples were staying at a house whose owners were out of town and had called authorities offering it to evacuees.

“Well, we’re all getting along just fine,” Ludwig said. “We have five dogs and two cats. They’re getting along too. . . . It’s pretty wonderful that people are doing this. It’s what this community is about.”

In a hotel across town, Judy and Richard Shuffleton were likewise praising the town. The Shuffletons retired here 1 1/2 years ago and lovingly built their home, finishing the last addition Saturday. The carpet was to be laid today.

The only thing left of their home is ash.

“We will rebuild, oh yes,” she said. “We love it here. Our view is lovely. The people are nice--the whole town is behind you. We’re meeting with our insurance adjuster Monday.”