While most Tufts students were caught up in the heat of midterms or watching the Red Sox catch fire midway through the American League Championship Series last week, America was burning over 3,000 miles away.
A series of wildfires in southern California, caused by dry brush, extreme heat and brutal Santa Ana winds, has wreaked destruction for the past several weeks, reducing at least 1,600 homes to ashes, charring nearly 500,000 acres of land and forcing nearly half a million people to evacuate their homes, according to CNN.
The news has devastated California and has grabbed the attention of much of the West Coast, with reports on the damage - as well as speculations of arson - dominating headlines over the past few days. President George W. Bush sent federal aid in the form of firefighters and emergency funding to allay the crisis and devoted his weekly radio address to discussing the fires.
In Massachusetts, where wildfires are rare and California is distant, the fires took second tier to the World Series and other, more local news. But a number of south Californian Jumbos were directly affected by the fires, as their families and homes were put in danger.
For these students, the past two weeks have been a struggle to cope with fear and potential disaster - while still finding time to study for midterms.
Close calls in California
While she had heard vaguely that there were brush fires burning in southern California, freshman and San Diego native Chelsea Brown jolted when she picked up her phone early last week to find a message from one of her friends.
"My friend texted me, and she said that her parents had just asked her what she wanted from her room in case they had to evacuate because of the fires," Brown said. "She had to decide which of her things she would keep if her house became affected."
Brown, who had just moved from the San Diego area and whose father still resides there, said the message surprised her. While she was used to experiencing wildfires from living in the area for so long, she had never heard of a fire coming so close to her home. It was the first time, Brown said, that she realized the magnitude of the problem.
"My main reaction to it was just utter disbelief," she said. "I couldn't believe how bad it was. I've lived in California all my life, and there have been a lot of fires, but none that threatened me, or my house, or my family. I was stunned that the fires reached so far."
"The fire burned a mile from my old house," she added. "I can't imagine what it would be like to be there ... I would have been pretty much right in the middle of it. I would have had to pack up my things and pick what I would take."
Sophomore Kevin Terhorst, another San Diego native, experienced a close call of his own last week, as the flames came within feet of his home, but did not damage the structure.
"My house is still standing, but [the fire] burnt through the backyard," he said. "I know about a half dozen people who did lose homes. A lot of people I know had to evacuate."
Terhorst said wildfires are dangerous even on a small scale - but they have never been this bad.
"Really, it's the unpredictability that's the hardest part, because you know [the fire] might hit every house on the block except one," he said. "You don't know if that one house will be yours, or if you'll be one of the ones that are affected. If it's in your area, you know it's a real possibility that you might not come back to a standing house."
For Brown, the experience was eye-opening, even though her own family was not in danger.
"One of my friend's houses burned down," she said. "It's just sort of a surreal feeling - it's something that's kind of hard to talk about, actually."
She said the sheer magnitude of these particular fires was what shook her most.
"When I found out that they were saying that [the fires] might burn all the way to the ocean, it kind of shattered my notion of 'everything is going to be fine,'" she said. "As the fire got closer and closer to my old house ... it shattered my system of beliefs that things would be okay - that the fires stay on the outside of town."
Dealing from a distance
Students interviewed said that their sheer distance from the fires - along with the relatively muted response among northeasterners - made it more difficult to deal with the potential dangers their families, friends and neighbors faced.
Freshman Carolyn Berliner, who lives near Los Angeles, said she felt disconnected - even as her grandmother, who lives near Beverly Hills, had to flee the area for fear of fires spreading.
"It's the kind of area that, with the slightest spark, the whole area would go up - She actually packed her car and left," Berliner said. "As a freshman, it was hard being away and seeing footage [of the fires] ... to be so far away and to not be able to do anything to help."
Berliner began looking at pictures of the fires in the news, which sent chills down her spine.
"I recognized some of the places that were touched," she said. "There's this big estate down in Malibu that burned down ... it was weird to look at the picture, and [I was] thinking, 'I know where that is. I know exactly where that is.'"
For senior Caitlin Dockweiler, whose family was forced to evacuate their San Diego home, staying in touch with her family helped keep her calm - for the most part.
"If I was there, I could have helped get stuff out, known exactly what was going on," she said. "It [was] a little bit stressful, those times in between phone calls, not really knowing what's going on."
Dockweiler was in the middle of studying for midterms as the news unfolded.
"It was kind of like, 'study a little, check your phone, study some more, check your phone,'" she said. "I checked my phone compulsively. If I hadn't heard anything in a while, I would send home a text message, call someone. It was kind of stressful, and a little bit intense."
In the end, her house remained untouched, and her family was able to return. But not everyone she knew was so lucky.
"I know a few family friends who've had their houses burned, which is really a bummer," she said. "But once I know people are safe, I'm okay. Houses can be rebuilt - I just worry more for people's safety."
Terhorst had similar problems staying on top of his family's situation.
"It's been tough. Last week, I was worried about it," he said. "I tried to follow the news as much as possible. It's kind of hard to stay on top of things from 3,000 miles away."
Even Jumbos whose friends and family were unaffected said they felt far away - both literally and figuratively - from the crisis. For freshman and Los Angeles native Gabriela Brito, the distance has made it hard for her to relate to the disaster.
"When you're there, you feel the impact more. People are less aware around here," she said. "In a way, I guess you would have to be there to actually see the extent of how it's affecting people. Being there, it's just constantly on the news - you're more aware of it and you're more conscious of how big a deal it actually it is."
Freshman Neha Agrawal, who lives in Santa Monica, agreed.
"It feels very weird [to be away from the fires]. I wonder if I was there, if I would react differently to it," she said. "I would probably be driving past smoke and stuff. Here, I feel very disconnected from the whole thing."
But for Brown, being disconnected is not necessarily a bad thing.
"I'm pretty relieved that I don't have to be there, because it would make things kind of difficult," she said. "I'm definitely glad to be away from it. I was worried about my friends, and their houses, and my dad and everything, but I knew everything was going to be okay."
'The end of the world'
Part of what makes the crisis so hard to relate to, according to students interviewed, is that southern California wildfires are truly unique. The climate - hot and dry - combines with powerful winds to spread even small flames quickly and forcefully.
"In southern California we are used to these things, but I realize that people out here really don't have any perspective of what these wildfires are like," Terhorst said. "The conditions are basically what you imagine when you think of the end of the world."
In the vicinity of the fires, he said, the sky glows red constantly and the temperature reaches 80 to 90 degrees. The air is dry, and there are powerful winds that can reach more than 50 miles per hour.
And then there are the flames.
"The fire itself travels in a wall - just a line of fire, eating everything in its path - sometimes 200 feet high ... It gets to the point where sometimes fire crews have to retreat, cutting hoses with an axe because they don't have time to reel them in - it's that unpredictable," Terhorst said.
Even miles away from the nearest fire, conditions can be harsh.
"You don't know what it's like to literally not be able to go outside," Berliner said. "You don't even have to be near [the fire] - you're inhaling the smoke, your car is covered in ashes, the sun is bright red. It's a really bizarre world - it's just a very strange existence even if you're not right there."
Brown had a similar account.
"The ash is almost unbearable during fires. It's just like this really thick haze [that] just covers all of the cars. My dad was telling me how it actually got into my car and all over the seats. The sun shines a really creepy, surreal shade of red throughout the day."
"It's hard to feel normal or to feel healthy when you're breathing in all this ash and there's no sunlight," she added.
But while the conditions are strange and eerie, they are something most southern Californians have experienced before.
"Usually, about at least once a year there are some sort of fires, and over the past few years we've had such a bad drought that they've been bigger and bigger each time," she said. "We're more aware of it - we take precautions," she said. "But it's not something you get used to."
Terhorst agreed.
"You live knowing that it will happen," Terhorst said. "But anytime something like this happens, and you're forced to evacuate, it's a big shock."
