COVID-19 and having to shelter-in-place was bad enough. Wearing a mask and closing up everything—restaurants, movie theaters, concert venues—that makes society enjoyable was bad enough. Students relegated to distance learning, sports seasons canceled, workers doing their jobs remotely or braving the possibility of contracting the virus was bad enough. Then came the fires, fires that came raging over our hillsides and swooping into our communities, decimating our homes and neighborhoods. I raised my eyes heavenward and asked, “Isn’t it bad enough yet?” Wechose to live in the Santa Cruz Mountains for its community-friendly approach to life, its mutual respect for nature and people, its beauty and its tranquility. Towering redwoods, woodpeckers, hillsides that develop waterfalls after heavy rains, firehouses that act as the community centers for holidays and celebrations—all of it melts together into an inviting, comfortable mix of small town living and tremendous heart. And we had to leave it all. We were evacuated to all parts of the state and beyond. Thousands of us who had homes filled with memories and memorabilia, art projects from children and photo albums from weddings; door jambs marking the growth of our kids, and handmade mugs and bowls from ceramics classes. Porches and decks strewn with patio furniture, plants and bird feeders; couches that hosted sleepovers and nursing mothers; chairs that had been arranged with blankets and sheets into the perfect fort; kitchens that served thousands of meals and hosted even more family gatherings. Favorite pillows, favorite books, favorite everythings. All of us were—and still are—desperate to get back to whatever is left. Some will return to only ashes; others will return to homes damaged by smoke and water, stinking of spoiled food grown moldy in warm refrigerators.We will be grateful for even that. We were evacuated from everything that was comforting and familiar and meaningful into the arms of families and friends and strangers and hotel staff who say they understand, but can they really? All of us hunkered down in hotels and campgrounds and the houses of others made to feel welcoming to us, somehow. And there are tears and worry, endless worry and what-ifs that are overwhelming and paralyzing and shared in online communities that are grieving losses we can't yet articulate. My daughter and I fled to Irvine as the evacuation order came through and the fires began coursing down the mountain toward our home in Felton.And though we were safe at the Embassy Suites, with air conditioning and comfy beds and two mini-fridges to hold our perishables, we didn’t want to be there. We were displaced from everything familiar, and feeling disjointed from the unknown that hovered over our heads. My daughter missed everything about home—her bed, her friends, her Schnookie, and especially her brother and father who are both firefighters and at risk on the fire line. She and I would vacillate between quiet acceptance and vocal opposition to our circumstances, but we always came back to understanding that we had no control over any of it.           After days of living in very close quarters, I briefly retreated to Kaiser to pick up prescriptions that I had left behind when we evacuated. When I got in my car, I noticed some ants. I turned on my air conditioning and it was like a confetti cannon—ants came flying out of the vents, pelting me and the inside of the car. I was Just. So. Done. So done with everything being wrong. So done with overwhelming sadness and feeling like a lone reed against the tide. So done with being sad for my daughter who had been removed and isolated from everyone else that she knows and loves. A perennially upbeat person, the Ant Confetti Episode™ was the last straw, and the tears flowed from a deep reservoir of grief that has been filling since February—a wellspring sculpted from loss and fear and helplessness. So much heaviness, so much yet unknown. That was my bottom. Today, many of us have returned home, though many still have not. The community of Boulder Creek is reckoning with not only the loss of hundreds of homes, but also with damaged water infrastructure, and the uncertainty of when cleanup will be done, and what restoration of the area may look like. Firefighters from hundreds of other agencies have descended upon our valleys, and while PG&E is staged en masse at the Graham Hill Showgrounds, the streets of Scotts Valley are lined with fire trucks and engines that brought help from as far away as New Jersey. Signs of love and appreciation dot the landscape as locals share their gratitude for those who came to assist us in our time of need. Drivers honk, showing peace signs and yelling, “Thank you!” from open windows when driving by clusters of firefighters that are traversing the streets of Scotts Valley, looking for a little nourishment after endless hours of battling the blazes on our behalf. These are trying times, and they will shape and define us. In 20 years, people will ask, “Were you living here when the CZU August Lightning Complex Fire ripped through the area?” And we will nod, and say, “Yes, and it made us who we are today.” Not fire, not disease, not plagues of insects can take away our bravery, our purpose, our dedication to our community. They may transform and color our landscapes, but they will not dampen our drive for a better life, a truer love, a safer community. We will take a deep breath, wipe away the tears, and get to work building our kitchens and doorjambs and memories all over again. We are #SLVStrong. 

FEMA may provide financial assistance to applicants who have immediate or critical needs because they are displaced from their primary dwelling. Immediate or critical needs are lifesaving and life-sustaining items including, but not limited to: water, food, first aid, prescriptions, infant formula, diapers, consumable medical supplies, durable medical equipment, personal hygiene items and fuel for transportation.

Dear Friends & Families,

First, I am so sorry. There is nothing quite like losing the foundation from underneath you. Please know that you are not alone… though there will be days that go by where you feel as though you are. Please know that there is a community here for you when you are ready. Give yourself time to grieve however you need to and know that it is okay to receive help and assistance (every one of us will need to ask for help at one point in our lives). Try and find a few trusted friends/family members that can be your pillars of support so that they can assist in carrying some of the weight on your shoulders.

This evening Cal Fire lifted its emergency evacuation order for the UC Santa Cruz residential campus.      I have amended the Aug. 20 emergency declaration so that employees who live at Laureate Court, Hagar Court, Ranch View Terrace, Hagar Meadow, and Cardiff Terrace can return to their homes tonight. The rest of the residential campus remains closed, as do the Coastal Science Campus and Westside Research Park. We know everyone is eager to return to campus, whether it’s for student housing, to conduct research, or to provide on-site services. We are eager too, but must first ensure all pieces are in place for our community to begin returning to these sites. Closing the residential campus last week required us to shut down several critical systems, including our cogeneration plant, our natural gas systems, and other basic infrastructure. They must be returned safely online before the campus is fully repopulated.Additionally, parts of upper campus, including Family Student Housing, remain without power, and Pacific Gas and Electric Co. is not sure when power will be restored. We will continue to provide updates in the days and weeks ahead.                                                         Except for the people living in the employee housing communities outlined above, no one should attempt to access the residential campus, Coastal Science Campus, or Westside Research Park until directed that it is OK to do so.We are optimistic that we will very soon be able to re-open our Coastal Science Campus and Westside Research Park. With the Cal Fire order lifted, we are working hard to ensure our residential communities are ready to welcome back the students that were forced to evacuate. Reopening the residential campus will be deliberate and phased. Everything will be done to support the health and well-being of our community, and in a way that helps to minimize the spread of COVID-19.We are immediately focused on restoring critical campus infrastructure, allowing employees and families to return to campus housing, and resuming services provided by our COVID-19 diagnostic lab and our Student Health Center. With Cal Fire lifting evacuation orders for several areas, people should anticipate traffic congestion and limited visibility due to smoke. I encourage us all to be patient and kind, particularly in these moments of collective stress. Faculty and staff should be ready to show their campus or other ID to enter employee housing communities and should exercise caution when returning to their homes, especially if they do so after dark. I encourage you to visit one of the following sites about who to contact and tips for returning home following a wildfire:Red Cross: Be Prepared for Wildfires during COVID-19Cal Fire Post Wildfire RecoveryFEMA: Returning From EvacuationWhile we are fortunate the wildfire never reached our residential campus, the ash and smoke it created entered our buildings, requiring that we assess and clean some areas of campus before they can be reopened.In the coming days, we expect to allow research labs approved under our COVID-19 restrictions and some student housing to reopen, and that dining services will resume preparing meals at our residential campus. As a reminder you can find consistent updates at ucsc.edu/fire. Our community has shown exceptional strength and compassion in the face of great adversity. We are beginning the long road of recovering from this wildfire. I know we will emerge a more resilient and close-knit campus and community. Stay safe, stay well, and stay connected.

CalFire announced on Wednesday that the City of Scotts Valley and unincorporated areas nearby, including Pasatiempo, Rolling Woods, Paradise Park and Cave Gulch, can repopulate immediately. CalFire has expressed confidence in fire lines protecting communities south of the San Lorenzo Valley to the east of Highway 9. Be sure to check out the current evacuation map to ensure your zone, as identified in the CalFire release, matches up with areas allowed to repopulate. We hope to learn more in coming days about other areas that will be allowed to repopulate, though we expect it will be some time for the hardest hit areas of Ben Lomond, Boulder Creek and Boony Doon. On Wednesday, CZU CalFire reported the Lightning Complex fires was 81,333 acres. While containment has increased to 21%, 23,000 structures are still threatened. On Wednesday, we learned that the staggering number of structures burned is at least 646, with all but 11 in Santa Cruz County. The damage assessment is just 55% complete. While we don't know the exact extent of the damage or the location of every damaged home, the County has released a Damage Assessment Map that contains up-to-date parcel-specific information about the fire's impact. Please visit the County's Fire Resources page for updates on sheltering and other services.

The Santa Cruz County Emergency Operations Center has released a map of properties damaged in the CZU Lighting Complex Fires.

We'll be updating this page with relevant information as it comes in.