For some Paradise survivors, the aftermath of the fire brought the realization that Paradise was part of their past. Economically and emotionally, some of its residents were simply unable to return — a difficult decision that brought both regret and, in some cases, relief.
Trevor Colston was one of the men Bowen picked up as she fled, saving his life. Colston said that as he sat in the back seat, he felt that even if he survived, the future would be bleak. At one point, he considered jumping out and running into the flames rather than face what would come with survival, he said. But he thought such a death would be selfish, so he stayed and prayed.
Bowen’s truck Soulless Zombie 🧟♂️ We are in the same boat 🛥 nightmare
But the trauma that came next left him feeling like a “soulless zombie.” He did eye movement desensitization and reprocessing therapy to help him with nightmares about being in Bowen’s truck.
For months afterward, he lived in migrant housing with his developmentally disabled clients, the only place his company could find for them. His own house burned in the fire, and he and his family ended up moving off the mountain to a town in the flatlands.
It took years to come to terms with all he had lost, he said. But now, he doesn’t see himself ever returning to Paradise.
“A year ago, it finally just started to be like, ‘You know what? I’m OK here,’ ” he said.
Dan Stoffer, the other man Bowen picked up, also has not returned — in part because the care home he lived in no longer exists. Now, he lives in a home in Redding, a much larger city that has brought him more opportunity.
An avid amateur radio operator, he has been able to get a ham radio license — a testing process he couldn’t have done in Paradise. And he’s been able to purchase a Ford F-150 which his caretakers drive him around in.
“Basically I have a lot more freedom,” he said. “I am pretty much more happier where I am at.”
Despite all that has been rebuilt in Paradise, it remains plagued by drawbacks that make life too difficult for some, especially vulnerable people, such as Stoffer, for whom the isolation was a disadvantage.
Its hospital, run by Adventist Health, which reportedly received more than $100 million in insurance and PG&E payouts, will not reopen.
About half of the town’s 200 miles of roads are privately owned, many of them the only egress for homes tucked into the hills. Those private roads were damaged by the FEMA cleanup, said Culleton, the town council member, leaving them bumpy and difficult to navigate.
Scientists just found a road in the ocean
But “all the federal government will do in its infinite wisdom is fix the public roads,” he said.
The town also has no sewer system — the largest community west of the Mississippi without one, Culleton said.
Troubled Sea 🌊
But most concerning for some is safety. Although the smaller population and removal of so many trees has drastically reduced the risk of another fire or evacuation disaster, new trees are growing and the town is working toward restoring its population — and inadvertently perhaps its risk.
A siren warning system recently went online, but many residents have expressed concern that it isn’t loud enough. Jamie Johnston, who lives a few miles from the town center in a rebuilt home, said she can’t hear the network of blaring towers at all though her new double-paned windows, and even outside it “sounds like little tinkle bells.”
Adventist Angels Watchman Radio 