Lars Jimin Han
Dublin, CA
2024, Junior, Creative Writing

The school bell rang triumphantly, signaling the end of another day. I checked my phone, which read: September 17th, 3:15 PM. I quickly gathered my notebooks and headed outside, ready to meet my mom for our usual ride home. But as I stepped through the main doors of the school, an eerie, orange glow enveloped the world around me. I heard confused and surprised murmurs from people nearby and thought to myself, “What the hell?!” The sky was fiery crimson as if the heavens above were set on eternal fire. That’s when I realized that the very earth I was walking on was on fire, threatening not just the land but also the community I’d grown up in and loved.

I held my breath to save myself from breathing in the fiery ashes in the sky. My heart pounded as I quickly scanned the entire school parking lot, looking for my mom’s familiar dark blue car. I felt a buzz in my pocket, which I assumed was my mom’s text telling me to hurry to the car, but it went unchecked due to the hurry I was in. There the car was, idling by the curb. I finally ran over and jumped inside.

“Did you see the sky?” I gasped, struggling to catch my breath.

Mom’s face was etched with worry. “I did. It’s that fire over in Napa Valley. They’re saying it’s spreading fast with these winds.”

I looked back and saw my sister blankly staring out of the window. We jetted out of the parking lot and raced home, the haunting red sky trailing us the whole way. Plumes of smoke billowed in the distance, blotting out the sun. As we pulled into our driveway, ash rained down like apocalyptic snowflakes.

When we reached inside, I finally checked my phone. The news notifications played on an endless loop – evacuation orders, information on road closures, and the Glass Fire’s relentless march through the vineyards. With my trembling fingers, I opened my phone and pressed on Instagram. The first few posts were innocuous – selfies, memes, and mundane updates that had always filled my feed. But then, the stories began to unfold, each more unsettling than the last. Tap after tap, my phone screen was flooded with images and videos of a raging orange inferno, its flames licking at the night sky with a hunger you couldn’t satisfy. The captions of videos were laced with concern, and my friends and the community shared their worries and uncertainties with the world.

“Massive fire near Napa Valley; stay safe everyone.”

“Can see the smoke from my window, this is terrifying.”

“Praying for the safety of our community.”

As I scrolled, it became clear that this fire had paused not only our lives, but the entire
community’s lives as well, forcing us to confront the harsh reality that lurked just beyond our homes. The mundane routines and daily distractions that had once consumed our thoughts were now covered by the looming threat of destruction.

I checked the satellite image of the fire from my phone, and I saw that our house was just miles from the fire. So, our family decided that we had no choice but to prepare to flee our home.

In a frenzy, we tossed clothes, valuables, and family mementos into bags and suitcases. The thrum of firefighting aircraft passing overhead punctuated our hurried motions. Through the windows, we could see an ominous glow on the horizon, tendrils of smoke unfurling like the fingers of a malicious giant. After frantically packing, the shrill ringing of the phone pierced the uneasy silence in our home. My mother’s face grew taut with concern as she answered, her voice hushed and strained. Whispers of the words “fire” and “danger” drifted through the air, making my sister and I exchange furtive glances. The weight of the situation hung heavy, like a thick fog obscuring our path forward. This formed many thoughts in my head like our hazy future, or my chance of even going to school.

I also thought to myself: climate change was happening, and it was happening NOW. Initially, climate change was an abstract concept to me, an issue that I didn’t think much of. However, my perspective radically shifted when I witnessed its consequences firsthand. Climate change was happening to all of us, and we couldn’t be just bystanders. I didn’t know how to help the community, especially in a time full of worry and uncertainty. As I did more research on the fire and climate crisis, I saw that the fire tore through California’s renowned Napa Valley wine region exemplified the escalating wildfire risks driven by climate change. The parched, drought-stricken landscape, which was desiccated by hotter temperatures, had dry vegetation that allowed the blaze to explode across over 11,000 acres within just 24 hours. The unseasonable timing of the late September fire, fueled by earlier snowmelt reducing moisture levels, demonstrated how climate change is extending the wildfire season. The Glass Fire’s uncharacteristic speed and intensity for the region also reflected the trend of larger, more destructive wildfires arising from climate change amplifying risk factors like extreme heat and low humidity. Some studies also directly linked the conditions enabling California’s wildfires, including the Glass Fire, to human-caused global warming.

I was doubly dismayed – first by the thought that the fire was engulfing the world around me, and then again by the realization that the authorities were unaware of the fire’s cause, leaving open the haunting possibility that human negligence had unleashed this problem, extinguishing any sense of security.

I knew that wildfires were common in California, but I never knew that it was this serious. With my experience with the smoky air rushing out of the school, I worried that this fire would degrade air quality and pose serious health risks, threaten lives and property, and have devastating impacts on animal habitats and our ecosystem.

Suddenly, a glimmer of hope emerged from the silent but loud chaos – a family friend had called and invited us to reside in their home until the fire died. Their house was located just beyond the reach of the ravenous flames. Without hesitation, we sprang into action, gathering our belongings urgently. For about a month, our lives were suspended in limbo, our routines and rhythms disrupted by the ever-present threat that loomed beyond the walls. Each day, we awoke to the toasted skies and the burned grass on the hills that used to be a luscious forest green.

Surprisingly, in those endless days of uncertainty, I witnessed the resilience of my community. Neighbors opened their homes as shelters, businesses donated supplies, and first responders worked around the clock. The firefighting crew waged an intense battle against the fire, their determination unwavering as they deployed their expertise and equipment to subdue the merciless flames. In the face of nature’s destructive force, people united. The scars ran deep – homes and businesses reduced to ash, once-lush vineyards scorched.

After what felt like forever, the news that the fire was completely contained had relieved everyone in the community. Through the suffering, it seemed that the universe was harshly reminding us of the growing climate crisis and its devastating local impacts. But the universe had also revealed that there was nothing stronger than the strength of our community bonds and our collective will.

Even though I was happy the fire was contained, the aftermath of the Glass Fire in Napa Valley was devastating. Smoke from the fire and other wildfires polluted the air and caused air quality index readings to reach unhealthy levels. The fire burned over 67,484 acres, which destroyed 1,555 structures, including 308 homes, 343 commercial buildings, and at least 26 wineries, restaurants, and lodges, leaving large swaths of charred earth and blackened grapevines in our beautiful valley. An estimated 8% of the 2020 wine grape harvest was left unharvested due to potential smoke taint, with complications from fire and smoke preventing as much as 80% of Napa’s 2020 Cabernet Sauvignon grapes from being made into wine, endangering the viability of the region’s renowned wine industry and tourism. Rebuilding efforts have been slow, with areas like Howell Mountain still scarred by blackened trees and brush piles nearly two years later, highlighting the severe and long-lasting impacts of the Glass Fire on Napa Valley’s air quality, land, properties, and economic and cultural fabric.

The terrifying reality of climate change, which I didn’t even think much of, was brought into sharp focus and gave the realization that climate change much more serious than I thought was through my experience with the devastating Glass Fire in Napa Valley. The Glass Fire spread quickly and was extremely fierce, showing how higher temperatures, long dry periods, and dry landscapes are causing more frequent and severe wildfires – a scary result of climate change’s effects. However, even with such difficult challenges, the strength of community gives us hope and resilience. By joining together in our local areas and taking part in climate solutions and sustainability efforts, we can as a group reduce our carbon footprint, support environmentally-friendly practices, and push for environmental policies. I learned that our power comes from sharing what we know and working together towards the shared goal of protecting the planet, even when confronted with daunting challenges or formidable adversities. Even when confronted with daunting challenges or formidable adversities, the power of unity and the strength derived from our collective resolve as a community shine through, reminding us of the profound beauty and resilience that emerges when we stand together.

–

“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.” – Mother Teresa

–

The Glass Fire of Napa Valley

The Glass Fire was a devastating wildfire that ravaged Northern California’s Napa and Sonoma counties in September-October 2020. It ignited on September 27th near Glass Mountain Road in Deer Park, Napa County, and rapidly grew, merging with two smaller fires to scorch over 67,000 acres. The fire destroyed 1,555 structures, including 308 homes and 343 commercial buildings in Napa County, as well as 334 homes in Sonoma County. No injuries or deaths were reported, but an estimated 70,000 people were forced to evacuate the regions surrounding the Glass Fire. The fire damaged or destroyed 31 wineries, restaurants, and lodges, including the famous Chateau Boswell Winery and Castello di Amorosa winery. After 23 days, the Glass Fire was finally fully contained on October 20, 2020, leaving behind a trail of destruction and impacting the region’s renowned wine industry.

Works Cited

CA State Parks Bay Area District Natural Resource Management Program. “Glass Fire Natural Resources Update.” ArcGIS StoryMaps, Esri, 8 Feb. 2024, storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/14ed342de92f43a99fb1200f2c799bed.

Carstens, Eric. “Climate Change Resources Bow Seat Ocean Awareness Programs.” Bow Seat Ocean Awareness Programs • Activating the next Wave of Ocean Leaders through the Arts, Science, and Advocacy., Bow Seat Ocean Awareness Programs, 21 May 2024, bowseat.org/resources/for-students/#climatescience101.

Fox News. “California Wildfire Triples in Size as Glass Fire Rages through Napa, Sonoma Counties.” Fox News, FOX News Network, 29 Sept. 2020, www.foxnews.com/us/california-wildfire-glass-fire-napa-sonoma-county-evacuation-fire-weather.

“Glass Fire, September 27, 2020.” Glass Fire, September 27, 2020, NASA, 7 Oct. 2021, www.jpl.nasa.gov/images/pia24209-glass-fire-september-27-2020.

Jennifer. “The Glass Fire 2020.” HL Blog, 20 Nov. 2020, www.herblambvineyards.com/the-glass-fire-2020/.

Mobley, Esther. “Catastrophic Glass Fire Marks New, Dangerous Era for Napa Wine Industry.” San Francisco Chronicle, SFC, 9 Oct. 2020, www.sfchronicle.com/wine/article/Catastrophic-Glass-Fire-marks-new-dangerous-era-15633039.php.

News, Bay City. “Glass Fire in North Bay Now 100% Contained: Cal Fire.” NBC Bay Area, NBC Bay Area, 20 Oct. 2020, www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/glass-fire-in-north-bay-now-100-contained-cal-fire/2383304/.

Selva, Jenn, et al. “The Glass Fire in California Burned 1 Acre Every Five Seconds as It Doubled in Size, Officials Say.” CNN, Cable News Network, 29 Sept. 2020, edition.cnn.com/2020/09/28/us/california-wildfires-zogg-fire-glass-fire-monday/index.html.

Silva, Christianna. “Glass Fire Rages across Northern California, Burning Thousands of Acres.” NPR, NPR, 30 Sept. 2020, www.npr.org/2020/09/30/918844270/glass-fire-rages-across-northern-california-burning-thousands-of-acres.

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