Get up, stand up. stand up for your right
Get up, stand up, don’t give up the fight
— ‘Get Up, Stand Up’ by Bob Marley
According to the InciWeb website, the ‘416 Fire’ in Durango is currently at 27,000 and still growing. About 1,100 men and women are fighting the fire, as of yesterday’s count. Fire activity has been described as “very active.”
Projected forecast for today, Thursday:
Red Flag Warning issued for fire area. Continued very active fire behavior with areas of spotting and rapid spread rates. Fire movement will be variable due to dynamic weather conditions. Potential for new starts, and extreme fire behavior.
For comparison, the Missionary Ridge Fire — a 2002 wildfire in the Durango area — burned about 72,000 acres. Firefighters fought that blaze for 39 days, and one firefighter lost his life. The cost of the firefighting labor and equipment and aerial attacks: $40 million.
We often refer to fighters as heroes — heroes, fighting to mitigate the forces of nature. Here in America, members of the U.S. military are commonly referred to as heroes. Some of my own personal heroes were, and are, men and women fighting for civil right, political rights, human rights.
We recognize that, in certain situations, fighting is a noble action, a correct action.
In my 36-year relationship with my former wife, however, I had consistently felt that fighting between a husband and wife was wrong. I had felt that ‘anger’ was wrong. It wasn’t until 1993 — just before we moved to Pagosa Springs — that Clarissa and I sat down and made an agreement. We agreed to fight.
In Parts One and Two, I shared portions of a 1993 letter I wrote to my mother, about that agreement. The letter continues:
“But you, dear mother, and I have for many years felt that [Clarissa] was solely responsible for [the marital fighting] when, in fact, it takes two to tangle.
“A person who is angry wants, most of all, to be understood. Sometimes, that is all she wants: to be understood.”
The social pattern I had been taught, growing up in my particular family in my particular corner of the world, was:
1. Anger is wrong, and fighting is wrong.
2. When the other person is angry, the most important thing is to defend yourself.
From that letter:
“As long as I thought anger was wrong, and that the most important thing to do was to defend myself, there was no way I could help [Clarissa] to work through the anger.
“Now, I am finally beginning to be able to listen through the anger — even through my own anger — to the person who wants to be understood…
“…I’m also looking forward to being back together with my family, in an exciting new place, where anything can happen. Love, Bill.”
I don’t recall whether my mom and I had any further discussions of these ideas, about fighting — about the idea that fighting can be a productive process, even in a marriage; about the idea that anger is a natural emotion and we don’t need to judge it as a negative force; the idea that communication breaks down when we judge the other person’s actions or emotions as ‘wrong.’
When I wrote this letter to my mom, Clarissa and I had been together for about 20 years, and were in the process of raising three children. We were able to stay together for another 16 years, before the fighting became too much to bear.
I’m sure there are various ways to fight a fire — and that some methods are more effective than others. I understand that the primary concern for the Forest Service, when faced with a burning forest, is to protect human life. The life of one firefighter is infinitely more precious than 27,000 acres of trees. Or so we tell ourselves.
Nevertheless, we expect firefighters to put their lives on the line and do battle with Vulcan, the god of fire. If they are successful, they might save a family’s home from the flames. They will not be able to save the forest.
While we were celebrating my mother’s life here in Seattle, just days before her ashes were scheduled to be scattered across the waters of Puget Sound, my daughter Ursala picked up the 1993 letter I was referencing as I wrote this article series. No doubt, she found it to be an interesting perspective on her parents’ relationship.
I realize now that Clarissa and I never sat down with the kids, together, and explained why our marriage was cursed by — or blessed by — so much fighting and discord. I, for one, neglected to talk with the kids, heart to heart, about anger and judgement. Instead, they had to try and put their own reasons together, for their parents’ inability to live in peace and harmony.
I’m not sure, even now, that I could explain to them why Clarissa and I were not able to stay together and agree to continue the struggle, to its final conclusion. I only know, we gave up the fight, and the whole thing burnt to the ground.
All that was left… was to wait for the spring rains… and the green sprouts that would begin the healing process…