Forest, fire and everything in between

What an emotional week.

I want to begin my column by thanking all the firefighters and first responders who helped protect Keystone, the Monument, and Rapid City from the devastating fires that plagued our Hills. You are all fearless, selfless souls who don’t get enough recognition for all you do. Some of us just have jobs; you have jobs that completely change lives!

I was hiking in Custer State Park and was enjoying a beautiful view when my phone started to “blow up” with concerned friends asking, “Are you OK?”

I had no idea there was a fire burning when I left for the day. At the same time my Honey Badger was telling me his best friend’s home was being threatened by a fire in Rapid City. As I wrote this on Friday, he is still not able to return to his house. All of the fencing that he put up for his goats and dog family has been destroyed.

He spent part of the week with family then moved to an AirBnB. He took the week off from work and is fortunate enough to have the income to do so. It’s hard to imagine one day you’re just enjoying life, eating dinner with your spouse, finding time to relax on your couch, looking out your bedroom or living room window before going to bed. And the next you’re watching this horrific scene play out that is impacting your life in every way possible.

Your brain goes from autopilot to fight or flight. You’re told to grab “essentials” from your house, having no clue what that means or if and when you will return. I can’t fathom his mindset or stress level.

Badger’s other best friend also got some devastating news...he would be losing his dream job. Yes, he is employed at the sawmill. He has already expressed that he will leave the Hills when his employment ends. With his departure, his wife’s business in Hill City will shut down. He has some ideas of where they might go. He is packing his house, looking for work, relying on family in the interim if need be. One day he was loving his job and his community. The next he was reimagining his life.

How do we survive these moments? How do we insure our emotional well-being and from where do we get the strength to move on? I think it’s different for everyone.

Some of us put our heads in the sand and wait for the storm to pass. Others of us walk into the storm headfirst. Some of us cry openly to our friends and ask for help. Others of us whimper in private and rely on our staunch independence.

We were all fortunate to pass through the pandemic for the most part unscathed. We heard reports of schools closing and businesses shuttering. We watched on television as people were locked down, some unable to leave their homes even to visit the store or a park. Life here went on, unchanged.

And then this week hit.

And so much has changed — in such a short time.

Families were evacuated, jobs were lost, kids will be taken from schools and long time community members may be forced to move.

This is our “pandemic”. This is our worst nightmare. We live in one of the most beautiful places in the world, surrounded by a pristine wilderness. And that beauty must be protected.

Our communities and our people must be protected. The threat we face is not from an invisible disease. It’s from our own inability to work together in a way that balances the needs of infrastructure, community and public lands.

The danger of fire will never go away as long as the forest surrounds us. And the need for good paying high quality jobs will never disappear as long as the dollar is a source of currency. We need to recognize this balance impacts all of us and find a solution that benefits all of us.

I don’t have that solution. All I know is that two people who touch my circle have had their lives changed forever this week. I can see how both of their plights are related and interwoven. We are all vested in what happens in the forest and in our communities, which in many ways are one and the same.