Up In Flames

Neighborhoods reduced to ash. Toxic air so thick it blocked out the sun and turned the sky an apocalyptic orange. Tens of thousands of people forced to evacuate—many of them living in shelters, dingy motels, or their cars as they awaited word on whether their homes were still standing.

These are just a few of the devastating scenes recently caused by some of the worst wildfires ever recorded in the western United States. As of September 30, multiple megafires had already scorched more than 3.9 million acres in California this year, shattering the state’s previous record from 2018. Combined, California, Oregon, and Washington—the states hit hardest by the wildfires—had seen a land mass almost the size of New Jersey burned by mid-September. And smoke haze reached as far as New York.

Neighborhoods reduced to ash. Toxic air so thick it blocked out the sun and turned the sky an apocalyptic orange. Tens of thousands of people forced to evacuate. Many evacuees living in shelters, dingy motels, or their cars. People hanging in limbo as they awaited word on whether their homes were still standing. 

These are just a few of the devastating scenes caused by recent wildfires. They are the worst wildfires ever recorded in the western United States. As of September 30, multiple megafires had already scorched more than 3.8 million acres in California this year. That’s set a new record, shattering the state’s previous one from 2018. California, Oregon, and Washington have been hit the hardest by the wildfires. By mid-September, those three states combined had seen a land mass almost the size of New Jersey burned. And smoke haze reached as far as New York.

To the global scientific community, the acres of scorched earth and ash-filled skies across the American West are the tragic, but predictable, results of climate change. Nearly two years ago, federal government scientists concluded that climate change could triple the frequency of severe fires across the western states. Now, scientists and many officials say, we are coming face-to-face with the dangerous effects of a warming planet.

“If you are in denial about climate change,” California’s governor Gavin Newsom said as fires raged in August, “come to California.”

The acres of scorched earth and ash-filled skies across the American West are tragic. But the global scientific community also views this as the predictable results of climate change. Nearly two years ago, federal government scientists issued a warning. They concluded that climate change could triple the frequency of severe fires across the western states. Now, scientists and many officials say, we are coming face-to-face with the dangerous effects of a warming planet.

“If you are in denial about climate change,” California’s governor Gavin Newsom said as fires raged in August, “come to California.”

Intense wildfires like these have become increasingly common in California and the rest of the western U.S. in recent years. In fact, 8 of the 10 largest fires ever recorded in California have burned in the past decade. And 6 of the 20 largest wildfires in modern California history have occurred this year alone.

Scientists say that climate change is fueling the severity of the fires—how big they get, how quickly they spread, and how difficult it is to fight them as they bear down on communities. Humans are the main drivers of climate change, according to scientists. We burn fossil fuels, like coal and oil, which release greenhouse gases. These gases act like a blanket, trapping more of the sun’s heat in Earth’s atmosphere, causing global temperatures to rise.

Warmer temperatures have created more dried-out shrubs, trees, and other vegetation—the perfect fuel for wildfires. All it takes is a spark—a downed power line, a bolt of lightning, or fireworks, for example—to ignite a disaster.

Intense wildfires like these have become increasingly common in California and the rest of the western U.S. in recent years. In fact, 8 of the 10 largest fires ever recorded in California have burned in the past decade. And 6 of the 20 largest wildfires in modern California history have occurred this year alone.

Scientists say that climate change is fueling the severity of the fires. That includes how big they get, how quickly they spread, and how hard it is to fight them as they burn through communities. Humans are the main drivers of climate change, according to scientists. We burn fossil fuels, like coal and oil, which release greenhouse gases. These gases act like a blanket, trapping more of the sun’s heat in Earth’s atmosphere. That causes global temperatures to rise.

Warmer temperatures have created more dried-out shrubs, trees, and other vegetation. Those conditions act as the perfect fuel for wildfires. All it takes is a spark to ignite a disaster. That could come from a downed power line, a bolt of lightning, or fireworks.

“Fundamentally, the science is very, very simple,” says Philip B. Duffy, a climate scientist who is president of the Woodwell Climate Research Center in Falmouth, Massachusetts. “Warmer and drier conditions create drier fuel. What would have been a fire easily extinguished now just grows very quickly and becomes out of control.”

This year’s fires have been made worse by a record-shattering heat wave. And there are other reasons, beyond climate change, why wildfires have been getting more deadly. For one, people are increasingly moving into areas near forests, known as the wildland-urban interface, which are inclined to burn.

Experts say past fire suppression also plays a part: For decades, the federal policy was to rapidly put out all wildfires rather than allow forests and grasslands to burn from time to time. Because of that, there’s a lot more vegetation to fuel destructive fires. Still, scientists say, the role climate change is playing is clear.

President Trump visited California in September to survey the damage. He praised the thousands of firefighters who had been working day and night to contain the flames.

But the president insisted that poor forest management was to blame, declining to mention climate change. Throughout President Trump’s term, he has called climate change a “hoax” and sought to roll back many policies designed to lower greenhouse gas emissions, such as regulations on automobile emissions. He says these regulations hurt the economy. But many of the president’s critics say that getting rid of them has made the wildfire situation worse.

“Fundamentally, the science is very, very simple,” says Philip B. Duffy, a climate scientist who is president of the Woodwell Climate Research Center in Falmouth, Massachusetts. “Warmer and drier conditions create drier fuel. What would have been a fire easily extinguished now just grows very quickly and becomes out of control.”

This year’s fires have been made worse by a record-shattering heat wave. But climate change isn’t the only reason why wildfires have been getting more deadly. Another reason is that people are increasingly moving into areas near forests. These regions are known as the wildland-urban interface. They’re inclined to burn.

Experts say past fire suppression also plays a part. For decades, the federal policy was to rapidly put out all wildfires rather than allow forests and grasslands to burn from time to time. Because of that, there’s a lot more vegetation to fuel destructive fires. Still, scientists say, the role climate change is playing is clear.

President Trump visited California in September to survey the damage. He praised the thousands of firefighters who had been working day and night to contain the flames.

But the president insisted that poor forest management was to blame. He didn’t mention climate change. Throughout President Trump’s term, he has called climate change a “hoax.” He also has sought to roll back many policies designed to lower greenhouse gas emissions. That includes regulations on automobile emissions. He says these types of regulations hurt the economy. But many of the president’s critics say that getting rid of them has made the wildfire situation worse.

For many Californians, climate change now feels like an undeniable reality.

Emily Szasz felt as though she were in a strange, unfamiliar land when the San Francisco Bay area was shrouded in a faint orange glow from the wildfire smoke in September.

“Never do I remember 23 straight days of orange, oppressive, smoky skies, leaving my house in fear that I’d never return to it, or knowing someone whose home burned down in the mountains near my house,” she said, adding, “There is no greater proof, nor should we require it, that climate change is here and is changing our lives.”

In neighboring Oregon in September, blazes reached into areas untouched by fire for decades, and a 36-mile-wide line of flames edged into the suburbs of Portland.

Tens of thousands of people were forced to flee their homes. And officials struggled to manage a series of migrations reminiscent of a war zone, with distraught families showing up with little in hand beyond an overwhelming fear that their homes had been lost for good.

For many Californians, climate change now feels like an undeniable reality.

The San Francisco Bay area was covered in a faint orange glow from the wildfire smoke in September. Emily Szasz felt as though she were in a strange, unfamiliar land at the time.

“Never do I remember 23 straight days of orange, oppressive, smoky skies, leaving my house in fear that I’d never return to it, or knowing someone whose home burned down in the mountains near my house,” she said, adding, “There is no greater proof, nor should we require it, that climate change is here and is changing our lives.”

In neighboring Oregon in September, blazes reached into areas untouched by fire for decades. A 36-mile-wide line of flames edged into the suburbs of Portland.

Tens of thousands of people were forced to flee their homes. And officials struggled to manage a series of migrations reminiscent of a war zone. Many families showed up with little in hand beyond an overwhelming fear that their homes had been lost for good.

With shelters and hotel and motel rooms at capacity, parking lots up and down the state were transformed into makeshift campgrounds. And many people were forced to pitch tents in high school football fields—unsure whether they would be displaced for days, or weeks, or more.

The difficulties of seeking refuge with friends and family or in crowded shelters or motels were exacerbated by the Covid-19 pandemic, which has required people to practice social distancing.

Carla Heath and Cindy Essman, two sisters who fled their home in Lyons, Oregon, with their dogs and birds, slept in their car for days in September. They spent two nights in a shopping center parking lot before arriving at a shelter at a fairgrounds.

“You do what you have to do at this point,” Heath said. “The coronavirus is a concern, but that’s so far back right now. I’m not even thinking about it.”

In Phoenix, Oregon, David Pacheco, Ramona Curiel de Pacheco, and their two sons lived in a trailer park before a wildfire in September burned the entire park to the ground in the span of a few hours. The couple had no insurance and almost no savings. When asked how they were holding up, Curiel de Pacheco began to cry. “How do you think we feel?” she said. “Everything of ours burned.”

She said she had no sense of where to go next.

Shelters and hotel and motel rooms were at capacity. Parking lots up and down the state were transformed into makeshift campgrounds. And many people were forced to pitch tents in high school football fields. Those who had to evacuate were unsure whether they would be displaced for days, or weeks, or more.

The Covid-19 pandemic made it harder for people to seek refuge with friends and family or in crowded shelters or motels. The spread of the infectious disease has required people to practice social distancing.

Carla Heath and Cindy Essman fled their home in Lyons, Oregon, with their dogs and birds. The two sisters slept in their car for days in September. They spent two nights in a shopping center parking lot before arriving at a shelter at a fairgrounds.

“You do what you have to do at this point,” Heath said. “The coronavirus is a concern, but that’s so far back right now. I’m not even thinking about it.”

In Phoenix, Oregon, David Pacheco, Ramona Curiel de Pacheco, and their two sons lived in a trailer park. A wildfire in September burned the entire park to the ground in the span of a few hours. The couple had no insurance and almost no savings. When asked how they were holding up, Curiel de Pacheco began to cry. “How do you think we feel?” she said. “Everything of ours burned.”

She said she had no sense of where to go next.

Officials say the task of rebuilding from the wildfires will be daunting.

“The long-term recovery is going to last years,” says Andrew Phelps, director of the Oregon Office of Emergency Management.

For some, it’s already begun. Berry Creek, on the edge of the Sierra Nevada mountain range in California, is a tight-knit community of about 1,200 people. Neighbors have grown up knowing one another’s families for years, sometimes decades. When the fires destroyed hundreds of homes, residents in the area jumped in to assist one another.

“A lot of people have been here for generations, multigenerations, third and fourth generations,” says Melissa Frasier, a resident of nearby Oroville. She and her husband, Don Frasier, started a GoFundMe for friends who live in Berry Creek and lost their home in the fire. “Everyone is trying to lift each other up, and that’s a rare thing.”

But rebuilding homes, schools, and other buildings is just the start. Studies have found that intensely hot wildfires cause dangerous chemicals from building materials and water systems to leach into drinking water. The excessive heat and suffocating smoke also threaten the long-term health of people already struggling during the pandemic. And the threat of more wildfires has led insurance companies to cancel homeowner policies.

Officials say the task of rebuilding from the wildfires will be complex.

“The long-term recovery is going to last years,” says Andrew Phelps, director of the Oregon Office of Emergency Management.

For some, it’s already begun. Berry Creek is on the edge of the Sierra Nevada mountain range in California. It’s a tight-knit community of about 1,200 people. Neighbors have grown up knowing one another’s families for years, sometimes decades. When the fires destroyed hundreds of homes, residents in the area jumped in to assist one another.

“A lot of people have been here for generations, multigenerations, third and fourth generations,” says Melissa Frasier, a resident of nearby Oroville. She and her husband, Don Frasier, started a GoFundMe for friends who live in Berry Creek and lost their home in the fire. “Everyone is trying to lift each other up, and that’s a rare thing.”

But rebuilding homes, schools, and other buildings is just the start. Studies have found that intensely hot wildfires cause dangerous chemicals from building materials and water systems to seep into drinking water. The excessive heat and suffocating smoke also threaten the long-term health of people already struggling during the pandemic. And the threat of more wildfires has led insurance companies to cancel homeowner policies.

To many experts, these are the dynamics of a warming world. They say we’ll continue to see more effects like these unless significant action is taken to stop climate change—for example, by shifting the nation’s dependency away from fossil fuels and investing more in clean, renewable energy sources, such as wind and solar.

“People are always asking, ‘Is this the new normal?’” says Duffy, the climate scientist. “I always say no. It’s going to get worse.”

To many experts, these are the dynamics of a warming world. They say we’ll continue to see more effects like these unless significant action is taken to stop climate change. There are a number of steps that can be taken. For example, the nation can reduce its dependence on fossil fuels and invest more in clean, renewable energy sources, such as wind and solar.

“People are always asking, ‘Is this the new normal?’” says Duffy, the climate scientist. “I always say no. It’s going to get worse.”

With reporting by Thomas Fuller, Christopher Flavelle, Jack Healy, Jack Nicas, and Mike Baker of The New York Times.

With reporting by Thomas Fuller, Christopher Flavelle, Jack Healy, Jack Nicas, and Mike Baker of The New York Times.