Many of you are aware that I'm a dedicated student of history. Not only motorcar/ motorsports history, but history in general... including modern-war history.

Late-October 2007, in California, is Blitzkrieg. Lightning War. Not unlike the Luftwaffe firestorms over London in August/September, 1940. To put it in the mildest terms, the experience of these past four days for us in the path of these flames has been unspeakable.

Over the past 96 hours or so (we've lost count) Judy and I have been subjected to: 1) witnessing (peering out of our rear windows) the towering flames of the "Agua Dulce fire" as it charged southwest until it connected with Canyon Country/Santa Clarita... razing/ruining homes and outbuildings as it raced along in its malevolent rage; 2) watching as the Castaic and Stevenson Ranch fires collaborated in the random, capricious destruction of our community, then 3) as (on Monday evening) a new conflagration erupted less than two miles from our home near the intersection of Soledad Canyon Road and Sand Canyon Road.

And just yesterday (Tuesday, 23 October) yet another fire broke out just south of us at San Fernando Road.

This is not good. With the Santa Ana winds gusting at up to 80 and 90 mph (130 to 145 Kmph) and in the direction of our home, and with humidity in the single-digit numbers, any ember could propel the holocaust right into our canyon. And, indeed, one ember did ignite a fire across the (California) 14 Freeway right into the path to our home. Only the prompt and diligent and valiant efforts of the Los Angeles County ground firefighting teams and water-dropping Sikorsky S-64 SkyCrane helicopters managed to put the kibosh on this imminent threat to our home and to our lives.

It's so embarrassingly feeble to merely say we 'salute' these firefighters. Are you kidding? While they're scrambling and exhausting themselves to save our lives and our homes and our irreplaceable personal possessions, their own homes and loved ones and possessions in many cases are in mortal danger someplace else. Southern California is under siege. Some of these firefighters have been on the firelines for more than 36 hours without a pause. These firefighters deserve the highest accolades, the highest tributes from every (North) American, every decent-thinking member of the world community.

Judy and I have been watching CNN and KNBC as QualComm Stadium in San Diego (and, to be fair, other evacuee centers throughout seven California counties) has unselfishly and generously opened its gates to provide shelter and sustenance for hundreds of thousands of evacuees and refugees. Nearly 1,000,000 California residents have been displaced and turned into refugees as a result of these mega-infernos... far and away the largest displacement of American citizens in our nation's history. Over 700 square miles (over 1800 square kilometers) of California has been utterly destroyed, including upwards of 2,000 homes. Understand: nothing during the American Civil War, nothing during WWII, nothing during Katrina comes close to these compelling statistics. A special salute is in order for the response of the (California) residents of San Diego County and the owners of QualComm stadium (i.e., the city of San Diego), home of the San Diego Chargers football team. Californians. Compare to New Orleans, 2005. I'm not willing to ever again tolerate being a silent witness to smug slurs and aspersions about my fellow Californians by others who don't possess the first clue: Californians pulled together like never before in American history to immediately provide shelter and sustenance and personal care to these refugees. Californians did that.

All this has been happening right in front of our eyes. I'm a Vietnam veteran. I was accustomed to having NVA mortar and rocket rounds jarring my bones... and small-arms fire whizzing by me and my comrades.

Child's play. This Perfect Storm firestorm is infinitely more personal. It's been doin' its violent best to target me, my family, my livelihood, my home and my personal possessions. We're talkin' personal. Personal, dammit, personal.

Personal. Evidence is mounting that one or more of these holocausts was ignited by an arsonist. Sigh. If the authorities manage to apprehend, indict and convict the SOB(s), I'll be the very first to volunteer to pull the lever. Personal.

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