“It looks like a viking ship!” my husband said after we finally had set up our tent in the pouring rain.
Those days, we were young and flat broke. Our now grown kids were still toddlers back in our camping days. Hubby loved it. He was in the Infantry, so he was used to spending nights outside under the stars. Me…not so much.
What was supposed to be a nice, relaxing road trip, always turned into a logistical nightmare. Just packing and making sure you have everything you’d need was a huge undertaking. Then setup and breakdown at the tent site… Not relaxing!!!
For this particular trip, it was just hubby, me, and the twins. Our daughter was overseas visiting family for the summer. The goal was to spent a few days camping at a small campground at Raccoon Mountain near Chattanooga, TN. “It’ll be great!” hubby said.
The first challenge was packing everything into our car. We had a small (normal) tent already, but it was too small to sleep us all. So we rented a 4-person tent and a camping kit from our Army Morale, Welfare, and Recreation (MWR) store on post. The tent came in a humongous bag and took up most of the space in our trunk. Then, we still had to pack our clothes, cooler, food, folding chairs, sleeping bags… and the list goes on and on. Mind you, both our boys were still in car seats, so there goes that space.
When we arrived at our campsite, rain was pouring down with no end in sight. Of course, cell phones didn’t exist yet, so we had no way to check the radar. We didn’t want to get drenched, so we sat in our car, waiting for the worst of the storm to pass. It never slowed down. Eventually, we bit the bullet and set up our giant tent in the rain.
Of course, there were no instructions included in the kit on how to assemble this blue, thick-canvased monster. Only after about 3 or 4 collapses did we end up with a semi-sturdy shelter. When it was time to drive the stakes into the ground for added stability, we realized that we had nothing to hammer them in. Despite the rain, they wouldn’t go in more than an inch as they hit small rocks. So we searched the woodline and found a decent-sized rock that would do the job.
What seemed like hours later, I think it was cranky-toddlers-o’clock, we finally sat like wet dogs in our tent and stared out into the foggy mountain scenery. By foggy, I mean maybe 50 yards visibility at most. Oh, and did I mention our tent had a leak?
Later, when the rain stopped, we stood in front of our tents and laughed. Before us stood the most ridiculous camping structure ever built. It was made of event-tent style canvas. The color was tarp-blue, and the shape of it reminded us of a mighty sea-vessel with pointy sails. Hubby was right, like a viking ship… We stood out among our camping neighbors like a sore thumb.
Hubby let loose plenty of expletives directed at MWR back in Fort Stewart. Remember, he was in the Infantry, and although he tried to tame his language around the kids, it’s almost impossible to get the Infantry out of the man. Eventually, we accepted our fate, agreed this trip couldn’t get any worse, then decided to have a good time, no matter what. And the rain stopped.
Luckily, the rest of our adventure was more fun as we explored the local tourist sites. But this was just another example why I’ve never been a happy camper, although we did what we could afford back in the day to travel and see fun places.
I could go on about my camping woes like the time I was volunteering to be the chaperone for our female cadets for an overnight Civil Air Patrol training exercise. What was I thinking when I agreed to set up my tent just off the flightline of a small airfield? In Missouri. In November. In the middle of the National Forest. Where there are bears. Hubby was a Drill Sergeant and couldn’t go. He had sent me off with his warmest Army sleeping bag and hand warmers. ‘This will keep you warm. You’ll sleep like a baby,’ he had promised. Lies!!! I was up all night, freezing my butt off, and when I crawled out of my tent the next morning, everything was covered in frost. I was not happy. Although, I can laugh about it today.
The Good Part About Camping
I have to admit, it wasn’t all bad. We’ve created so many wonderful memories over the years. Every so often, we still talk about our little camping adventures, like exploring the woods with the kids in the dark with flashlights. Hubby would tell the story of crazy 3-toed Jake who lived in those woods and who came after children (he totally made that story up for added effect). It was great!
These days, when hubby wants to go camping, we have this understanding that he can camp and hike his heart out. With a couple buddies. Me? I just enjoy the peace and quiet at home and write my next novel. It’s a win-win situation for both of us. Everyone’s happy.
Fire Watch
Now you know why it was so easy for me to write Morgan’s point of view in Fire Watch (me snickering). She’d never been a fan of camping, either, but she’s a tough cookie and determined not to give up on the challenge she had agreed to..
In this story, whatever can go wrong, does go wrong. So if you haven’t read Fire Watch yet, you’re in for an adventure. If you enjoy clean small-town romances set in the great outdoors, you’ll love this fun and exciting wilderness romance.
Keystoneridin, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons
My novel Fire Watch of the Southern Storms series just released two weeks ago, so I thought I’d share the real-life disaster I had witnessed that inspired this story and that I drew experiences from.
How it started
It was June 23, 2012. We had just returned to Colorado Springs earlier that year from Germany for hubby’s final tour in the Army before retiring. Little did we know that we’d experience one natural disaster after another in various degrees the entire time we lived in the Springs. But I’ll share more of these stories in a future post.
Summers in Colorado are hot, dry, and the Chinook winds tend blow strong down the Rocky Mountains. This is the perfect setup for fire weather, and a red flag watch or warning will be issued when the conditions are right. Add a bolt of lightning, a cigarette butt thrown out of a car, or a spark from a campfire, and you’ll have a fast-spreading wildfire on your hands.
We lived in the southern part of Colorado Springs, between Peterson AFB and Fort Carson. That Saturday, I was heading home after doing a rare fancy brunch at the Broadmoor Hotel with the girls. We noticed a small plume of smoke in the mountains, but didn’t think much of it at the time, as we had frequent brush fires out in the Fort Carson Training Area break out all the time, especially during fire weather. So no biggy—at least at that moment.
View of Waldo Canyon Fire on day 1 from my bedroom window.
The next day I noticed that the plume of smoke had grown and spread. On the way to town for some shopping, I stopped at a field were people had gathered to take photos and to watch the fire. The news had told us that the tall, bright orange flames we saw in the distance were likely someone’s home going up in flames. It gave me chills.
Waldo Canyon Fire Day 2
Unfortunately, the winds were relentless, and the fire kept spreading even more over the next couple of days. Since it’s been so dry, there was plenty of fuel for it to grow. Firefighters were doing everything in their power to save properties in the path of this fire and to keep it from cresting over the last ridge on the edge of Colorado Springs, but it almost seemed an impossible task.
Soon, when the wind shifted to the southeast in the evenings, we were surrounded by smoke, even down where we lived. Everything smelled like a giant campfire, and you couldn’t get away from it until the wind shifted again in the mornings. Our cars were covered in flakes of ash the wind had carried all the way to our neighborhood. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I couldn’t even imagine how scary it must’ve been for people living in the north side of the city closest to the blaze.
It didn’t take long until thousands of people were evacuated in phases in the areas of Woodland Park, Manitou Springs, The Air Force Academy, and Colorado Springs as the fire progressed in size and spread toward the Front Range. At the time I worked at the Fort Carson Military Hospital and I remember coworkers who lived near the evacuation zones being released to gather their most valuable possessions and leave their homes behind, not knowing if they’d have a home to return to once this fire was contained.
The Fateful Day
Then on Tuesday afternoon, literally all hell broke loose. After work, hubby and I were running into town to pick up something from Home Depot. It was extremely hot that day and the wind had picked up somethin’ fierce and was now blowing non-stop. Before we entered the store, I remember watching the huge thick, orange-gray plume of smoke behind the ridge of the mountain being pushed down into the city by the wind. This can’t be good, I thought. Not good at all.
We spent about 30 minutes in the store, and when we came out, we saw that the fire had crested and raced down the mountain toward the city.
Keystoneridin, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
This picture was taken from northeast of Colorado Springs looking onto the Air Force Academy with the Falcon Stadium in the center. You also see the fire cresting the front range. The smoke crawling down the mountain on the left is what we saw from Home Depot.
We rushed home and turned on the news, but we already knew that we had been witnessing the worst case scenario unfolding right there in front of us. And there was nothing we could do.
Spectacular Sunset – Mountains were barely visible through the smoke
That evening, the smoke was extremely dense. As the sun went down, the sky lit up in a dark orangish-brown hue, and the sun was a mere orange ball amidst the smoke. The photo wasn’t even close to do justice to what I saw. As beautiful as it was to watch, it was also sad. As the sun had set, we could see the bright orange flames crawling down the mountains in the distance. It was chilling to see the fire-covered mountain in the dark. It resembled a scene of a post-apocalyptic movie. The images have been seared in my mind and still give me chills today.
View of the Waldo Canyon Fire at night Day 1 from my bedroom window
The Aftermath
It took a few more days until the fire was contained and the damage was assessed. The blaze covered 18,247 acres, about 29 square miles. About 32,000 residents in the path of the wildfire were evacuated, 346 homes were destroyed, and sadly 2 residents lost their lives. I’ve met many people in the weeks after the disaster who had lost their homes. We had a devastating house fire before, so I could relate to what it was like to lose everything—just in the blink of an eye. The Waldo Canyon Fire was determined to be caused by humans, but they never found the individuals.
A few weeks later, I was on the north-west side of town near the area where the fire came down the mountain. I drove into the neighborhood. A chill ran down my back as I saw I took in the scene in front of me. The entire neighborhood was leveled, except for the occasional house and tree that seemed untouched amidst the charred surroundings. It was surreal. Those residents were the lucky ones.
For the remainder of the neighborhood, the only evidence of the large family homes that once stood there were the square, charred, empty concrete holes in the ground—the basements. Was I in a post-apocalyptic movie? No. This was real.
The Waldo Canyon fire had been the most destructive fire in Colorado history. Unfortunately, almost exactly a year later, the Black Forest Fire just northeast of Colorado Springs consumed 486 homes.
Back to Fire Watch
Although Fire Watch is not about the Waldo Canyon Fire, and the story takes place in the Georgia Blue Ridge Mountains, Morgan and Sean will experience some of the same things we did during the Waldo Canyon and the Black Forest fires. They have to deal with the harsh smell of smoke you can’t get away from and that clings to EVERYTHING. Also, there’s that horrible feeling of constantly being on edge, because you don’t know if the worst case scenario will come true.
If you haven’t read Fire Watch yet, you can grab your copy here.
Although this novel is book 3 in the Southern Storms clean & wholesome romance series, it can be read as a standalone.
It’s March and the start of Tornado Season down here in Alabama. I’ve always been fascinated by the magnificent power of nature. Yes, I was the kid that stood on the sidewalk on a hot summer day as thunderstorms were rolling in, spreading out my arms, and waiting for the strong storm gust to almost blow me over.
Tornado we saw driving to Ft. Leonard-Wood, MO in 2008.
Weather taken to a whole new level
Tornadoes were rare where I grew up, but we did have plenty of dust devils spin up in the fields during sunny days. That was my experience with twisters… But when hubby received orders in our early 20s to move to Fort Stewart, an Army post in Georgia, everything changed.
We temporarily lived in a trailer while we were waiting for military housing on post to become available. That year in the trailer park, I had become acutely aware of how dangerous storms can be. They don’t call trailer parks “Tornado Magnets” for no reason. Hubby was often gone for training exercises several weeks at the time, so it was just me, our 5 year old daughter, and our baby twin boys most times.
Flat broke back then, we saved enough change to buy a weather radio, because we were told by the military that it was a life-saving tool and a must-have if you lived in the South. Yes, that was the time before internet and cell phones.
We found out soon how valuable this weather radio was. Every time we had a strong storm blow through, especially at night, I was terrified. The thin walls and floors of our trailer shook with every clap of thunder, and the strong wind gusts made the entire trailer sway and groan. There was nothing I could do other than bring the kids in my bedroom and wait out the worst of the storm. Then, when the weather radio siren and outside tornado sirens went off, I held everyone tight and prayed the tornado would spare us and the threat would be over soon.
How my passion for stormy weather ignited
It didn’t take long for me to realize that I didn’t want to live in fear like this and began to educate myself about severe weather. I checked out books about storms from the library and learned a lot about meteorology. Soon, I became excited when I saw storms brewing out west. We’d watch them roll in, then I’d teach the kids about clouds and what to look out for. When things got really rough, we’d head to Walmart or at least go to a building that was sturdier than our flimsy old trailer whenever possible. Knowing more about severe weather gave me at least some options of mitigating the risk of injury and death during strong storms. I wasn’t as helpless and knew what to do.
The fascination grew…
Since then, we’ve seen some crazy weather throughout the years, including devastating hail storms, tornadoes, ice-storms, blizzards, and hurricanes. More on that in future posts.
Fun Fact: When the kids got older, we had this tradition to pop our favorite movie Twister into the VCR—later we upgraded to the DVD version—to get ready for a big storm system to arrive. And when the storm was close enough, we’d actually drive out to nice open areas to watch for tornadoes (from a safe distance, of course).
Fast forward to 2020 when the Southern Storms series was born. I knew I wanted to write sweet small-town romances, because that’s what I also love to read in fiction. Then I thought, wouldn’t it be fun to tie in some unruly weather to make life a little more difficult for my characters? So I did. 😁
Finally, here’s a stormy treat for ya…
So here’s a crazy coincidence. I just had sent my Twist of Fate manuscript (the Tornado novel) to my editor when this happened. Here’s what we saw when we drove home after a quick trip to Walmart before a line of storms would hit on May 4, 2021. These cells were just north of our neighborhood. No warnings were issued—yet—but the clouds sure looked ominous.
Our view driving home from Walmart – 3 distinct swirling dips
Then we shot this video after we unloaded the groceries from the car. It’s actually funny… (not what happened and the damage that occurred in town, but hubby and I talking.) Poor hubby just wanted to get inside (‘scuse his mild French in the video), whereas I was just fascinated with the swirling and rotating of the clouds and the distinct line of rain coming toward us. I know, I was channeling my inner weather-nut… We do this every time we have a big storm blow through… 🤣😂🤣
What you didn’t see after the video ended was that all the trashcans got knocked over and debris was all over the streets. We didn’t even make it to our door into the house, when we suddenly lost power and had to lower the garage door manually—it dropped with a loud bang and scared the living daylights out of us. Then, as soon as we got inside our house, the sirens of all our devices—we have many— and the weather radio went off at the same time with a tornado warning for our area. Yikes!
Turns out, we had an EF-1 tornado sweep through the busy part of town about a mile south of us. The tornado came out of the blue, and neither the National Weather Service nor our local TV meteorologists expected a twister to spin up when it did.
When I drove home from work the next day, I took the route where the tornado had come through and saw that in one section of the road, trees were knocked down to the west, and a little up from that, they had been pushed down to the east. Definite rotation… We had a lot of damage to businesses, including our movie theater, and trees that had fallen on parked vehicles. It took a few days to restore power in that part of town. But as far as I know, there were no deaths, which I’m forever grateful for. Yes, I do love the excitements of storms but not when they damage property or take lives. And unfortunately, the latter is often the case.
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I just finished reading The Lieutenant’s Nurse by Sara Ackerman, and I couldn’t put the book down. Trust me, this doesn’t happen a lot to me. It’s a mostly clean romance (2-3 cuss words, appropriately placed) that tells the story of Eva Cassidy, a nurse who joined the Army Nurse Corps to escape her troubles at home, and Lt. Clark Spencer, an Army intelligence officer. The story takes place in Hawaii during the Pearl Harbor attack-read the blurb here-and is filled with secrets that unravel as the story progresses. Lots of twists and turns…
When I saw the book in Target, the beautiful cover caught my eye. The illustration depicted a nurse in uniform overlooking a bay filled with warships and WWII era planes flying above. We are a military family, so I was intrigued. I picked up the book to take a closer look. The title gave the impression that the nurse would fall in love with an officer who had been wounded during the Pearl Harbor attack. Okay, I thought, I’ll bite and bought it.
At home, I got comfy on the couch and started reading. I was instantly hooked. Sara has a writing style that makes it easy to relate to the characters. Speaking of characters, some you will instantly love, and some you will want to strangle. If only you could reach your hands through the pages of the book and around the necks of these characters… You’ll see. The events and revelations propel the story forward nicely. Also, I found that adding actual articles and tidbits as the story progresses in time enhanced the story.
Finally, I also enjoyed the flashback scenes that gave us glimpses into Eva’s past that were critical in understanding why Eva had to change her life and leave her ill sister behind.
So, if you enjoy WWII era love stories, you will love The Lieutenant’s Nurse! I’ve seen this book in several other stores and it had a bunch of people ahead of me when I checked my online library, but you can always grab it on Amazon.
Tonight, I went to a birthday celebration/housewarming party hosted by one of my day-job co-workers and his wife. I’ve been to many of these events, yet, this one was different than all of the others, and I wanted to share the experience with you in hopes, that it might inspire you, too.
How this Came About
A little bit of background might explain how this came about: I work for a leadership school on a military base with awesome instructors, so leadership stuff is all around us every day. It was one of our new instructors we had this party for.
We knew that something was different when our invitation was entirely in dialog form–as in a movie script. It told us that in lieu of presents, we all would bring the gift of story. The topic of the party was “Home.” Since we are a mix of military families and academics, the word “Home” takes on quite a few meanings, as many of us have been picking up our belongings and relocated to new duty stations every 2-3 years.
What “Home” Means to Me
I won’t go into much detail about my colleagues stories, but I’m willing to share my experience with you. I’m originally from a small town in Germany, and my adventure began when I got married to a soldier, my now husband. Leaving my home town to come to the States was exciting and new, however, I didn’t know anybody at our new duty station. To make things worse, since hubby was in the infantry, he was gone for training for months at a time. My family was an ocean away, and I didn’t know where to turn when things got tough.
This was very hard for me, especially, since I had just given birth to my twin boys, and my daughter was going to kindergarten. That year, I did a lot of growing up and learned to ask and accept help from strangers. It was the only way to keep my sanity.
I finally had made friends, which made our situation bearable.
A Military Home
As a military wife, you often hear: “If the Army wanted you to have a spouse, they would’ve issued you one,” or “Mission First.” Basically, I’ve learned to become self-sufficient, and other spouses became my lifeline. Military families take care of each other. That’s just what we do.
Another saying is: “Home is where the Army sends you.” I actually have one of my cross-stitch projects that hangs by our front door with this saying. It stuck with me over the years as we moved so many times.
These sayings, as bad as they sound, helped me cope and stay strong. I then was also able to turn around and help others that had it worse than I did. Making the best out of a tough situation was rewarding in itself and made where we’ve lived feel as close to home as possible.
How to Make a Home
Job #1: Always unpack the house and make it as cozy as possible first. This was regardless if we lived in 50-year-old military housing with lead paint and black mold. My goal was to make each new place feel like a home.
Job #2: Get to know your neighbors, because you never know when you might need them. This was also where the support came from when our spouses were training in the field or deployed.
Job #3: Get connected and make some pretty darn good friends. Together, anything is possible. While our husbands were gone, my friends and I met several times a week to play cards, cooked holiday meals together, or cried on each others’ shoulders.
So What Does “Home” Really Mean?
In short, home is not tied to a place or house. It is connected to the people in your lives and the way they impact how we go about our day-to-day business. Yes, I’ve lived in some beautiful places and some really crappy ones. Guess what, even in those not so nice places, I remember the good times we had with friends the most. That’s what makes a home a home, the people you get to share it with.
Tonight, I learned that most of us feel the same way–that home is a mindset and is made up of the people around you. Better yet, I got a rare glimpse into my co-workers’ lives. We talked about something that we probably wouldn’t talk about at work. It made me learn more about my colleagues and their family members, and I found I had a lot more things in common than I thought. I will definitely include story time next time we host a gathering.
Now It’s Your Turn
I’m curious how you would interpret the word home. Leave a comment below to share what it means to you.
