Author Spotlight
Katie Murphy
“Fire.”
Sophomore Emmie Brown laughed.
No kidding. Thanks so much for that great description!
The one-word caption accompanied a photo that Emmie’s younger brother had sent in their family iMessage group chat. The photo, taken out of a car window, showed a dark gray plume of smoke in the distance on an otherwise clear day.
It’s been dry. Just another inevitable grass fire.
She and her dad were driving home to Louisville, Colorado from Breckenridge Ski Resort at noon after a perfect half-day on the slopes — the snow had been ideally powdery and light traffic had made their 5:30 a.m. drive up 30 minutes shorter than usual, making them first on the lift.
It was the last time they’d ever drive to their newly-renovated home before it was reduced to its foundation in ashes.
Home — a three-story house on a cul-de-sac in Arapahoe Circle that Emmie left her Corinth Elementary School and Indian Hills Middle School friends in Prairie Village, Kansas to live in two years ago when her dad got a new job.
As her dad stopped at a red light, Emmie’s mind drifted to the math homework still sitting on her desk she’d have to finish when she got home. They were halfway there. Out of nowhere, a 115-mph gust of wind slammed into the car, swaying it back and forth on its wheels.
Jeez, talk about winter wind. We’ve gotten it pretty bad this week.
Branches smacked against the passenger window as Emmie looked out and saw smoke painting the horizon, which reminded her of her brother’s text she’d already forgotten about. She knew it had to be a big grass fire.
Makes sense because we haven’t had rain in weeks.
It didn’t cross her mind that the high-speed gust and smoke could be connected until much later. They kept driving home. Soon the smoke wasn’t in the distance anymore. Emmie’s father squinted to see the cars in front of him in the thick smog. A line of traffic was directed north away from the smoke. The Browns continued south.
Why is everyone leaving? It’s not that big of a deal. They’re going to put it out.
Turning onto their cul-de-sac, they passed a few flaming patches of grass in their neighbors’ yards — Emmie figured that must be where all the smoke was coming from. Firefighters had the spots under control, dousing them with water. Emmie felt safe because the fire station was right down her street. Pulling into the driveway, she put her face mask on — something she does during every grass fire.
She cracked open the car door, and the wind threw it open for her. It smelled like a summer bonfire. Less than five minutes after going into her house, the power went out.
“We should stay at a hotel until this clears up tomorrow,” Brown’s mom said.
Fair enough. It’s smoky and cold, plus no power.
Emmie grabbed a change of clothes, a bag of toiletries and jewelry from her bathroom and her school computer and charger — after all, her math homework was still due in two days. Her mom put her black shitzu poodle Berkeley on a leash and the family of four loaded into the car. At the time, there was no official evacuation order for the city of Louisville.
The Browns checked into a hotel 30 minutes north of their house and turned on the news. An aerial shot of a neighborhood glowing red panned across the screen.
This is serious.
High winds were pushing the fire further north. The Browns barely slept that night, watching updates on TV and refreshing their Twitter feeds. A reporter was visiting neighborhoods one by one. Clayton Circle — a fifteen minute drive from the Brown’s house — burned. Coal Creek Drive — ten minutes away — burned. Paragon Estates — seven minutes away — burned.
At 6 a.m. the next morning, the family watched as the news reporter finally made it to Arapahoe Circle — the Browns’ cul-de-sac that they’d pulled out of just 15 hours before.
Every house on the street was completely gone, reduced to ashy piles of burnt remains.
*****
Over 600 homes burned down during the Marshall fire on December 30, 2021. The 150 houses in Brown’s neighborhood were torched, but it hasn’t diminished her spirits.
“We love Louisville and are going to rebuild on the same lot,” Emmie said. “The rest of my neighborhood will probably do the same, because that’s just the kind of close-knit neighborhood it was.”
Support has poured out from her local neighbors and classmates in Colorado as well as from old friends and family in the East community. Having grown up in the East district, her roots run back here. Her former lacrosse team, the Prairie Village Outlaws, which is connected to the East girls lacrosse team, promoted a GoFundMe fundraiser for the Brown family on social media. A group of East boys from her graduating class at Corinth Elementary sent her gift cards and a sweet note. Streams of thoughtful texts and FaceTime calls from her friends at East haven’t stopped since that day.
“Everybody wants to help, and I’m incredibly grateful for that,” Emmie said.
Out of everything she lost, the most important thing to her were her childhood photos — her first birthday, first day at preschool and first lacrosse game. It does make her sad, but she rarely thinks about it.
“Sure, it’s kind of an inconvenience, but life happens,” Emmie said. “It just matters how you take it. I don’t feel a hole in my stomach because I lost all my clothes. I feel more thankful that I’ve had my family and friends around me.”
She’s decided to live a more minimalistic life by giving away items and buying less clothes in the future because she’s realized that “you really don’t need that much.” The Browns are temporarily staying in a friend’s house that they call home for now where they eat family dinners almost every night.
“Stuff is stuff, family is family,” Emmie said. “Things can be replaced. But, people are going to be there for you. That’s one thing that’s not going anywhere.”
Home — not a three-story house on a cul-de-sac in Louisville, Colorado, but where your family is.
Click the link to help support Emmie’s family: https://www.gofundme.com/f/ntqx9v-supporting-the-browns?qid=23c2fadd81c591f01169df7e9939fc81
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