By Reverend David Whitney
July 12, 2015
This past weekend, we attended my nephew’s wedding in the mountains west of Wenatchee, Washington. It was a beautiful mountain setting but that outside ceremony was intensely hot. As we departed and descended the mountain, I could smell smoke. I didn’t see any fire burning, but for mile after mile I smelled the smoke.
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I commented to Cherelyn several times about the pervasive smell of smoke, not like one single campfire, but a different odor of smoke, something you smell when you come upon an area where there has been a recent forest fire.
Little did I know that as we drove across that State, my brother and his family as they returned to their home that night in Wenatchee where we had been staying prior to the wedding, they returned to a crisis.
The fires descended from the hills and on Sunday they were given just a few moments to grab anything they could from their home as they evacuated in the face of the advancing flames.