That was the week that was, one that may be remembered as Great Barrington—no, make that South County—Hell Week. Two Mike Tyson (version 1.0) body blows to our region. Gratefully receding in our rearview mirror, the week’s initial shocks may be wearing off while its effects will be long considered.
First, the Butternut Fire ignited the morning of Monday, November 18, in East Mountain State Forest some distance above the fairgrounds. With slight winds from the north, it began its march—no, make that crawl—south toward Sheffield. Monday into Tuesday, the fire consumed—no, make that nibbled—about 100 acres. The first hours were more fascinating than worrisome. A hundred acres in a brutally dry forest thick with groundcover is nothing to scoff at but, compared to California’s wind-driven firenadoes measured in tens of miles, initial reports seemed New England quaint. I will add this observation to my growing list of complete miscalculations.
Each of us experienced the fire in our own way. Upwind or at a distance, many likely felt more awe than fear. Downwind or in the immediately surrounding hills, initially, many likely experienced serious concerns mixed with befuddlement, as in, is this really happening here (where it has not happened for decades)? The Brookside Road residents experienced the reopening of the Brookside Road Bridge to emergency vehicles, a request fulfilled for the wrong reason.
In Atlanta on business until Wednesday afternoon, I experienced the fire remotely by text chains. As the fire grew Tuesday into Wednesday, let us just say my absence did not go unnoticed by Anne, home alone, and our neighbors.
Tuesday was altogether different. The fire was no longer crawling, nibbling, or quaint, exploding (non-California variety) to over 1,100 acres. A meeting convened to call a state of emergency. Agencies from around the state mobilized. Helicopter water drops began. Zero containment was announced. Everyone was on edge. If you have friends with camera phones—and everyone has friends with camera phones—you received pictures of the blaze from every conceivable location. It turns out, smoke looks pretty much the same from every angle.
Also on Tuesday, a call went out to the public to provide the gathered responders with gift cards, packaged food, water, fruits, and sports drinks. The Claire Teague Senior Center became so inundated with goods that another call went out asking the public to divert donations to food pantries. Lovely to think that due to our region’s largess, the responders will be rolling home with a Butternut Fire 10 to work off.
Unfamiliar vocabulary was introduced. My only prior experience with a “break line” was impatiently waiting my turn to pick from the donut selection. Staging had been strictly theatrical. “Not out of the woods” can be applied to something other than health it turns out, and no one could avoid its punning application to our forest fire.
As Tuesday turned to Wednesday, the fire spread north over East Mountain’s ridge. If you happen to live, as I do, on East Mountain Road, a mile-long finger jutting into the forest, this was a decidedly bad development. As many as nine fire engines and other assorted vehicles were staged at the top of our road. When I arrived home Wednesday afternoon, the smoke was noxious and thick, and I thought my decades of not smoking were for naught. Chainsaws were loudly cutting a firebreak nearby. It turns out the texts I had received had not been exaggerating the seriousness of the situation.
We had prior experience with “go bags” and swift-moving fires from our years living in the Los Angeles hills. Los Angeles offers few advantages over South County, but one is surely the transparency provided by Skycopter Channels 2, 5, 7, 11, and so forth. If you want to know how far a fire has advanced, simply look to see where the helicopters are hovering. Last week, firefighters kindly dropped by our and our neighbor’s houses often to keep us informed but provided somewhat incomplete information regarding the fire’s precise advance. In LA, you know to evacuate when ABC7 is flying low over your neighborhood.
I spent a few hours Wednesday evening considering what to bring should we receive an evacuation order. Just as projects expand to fill the time allotted, because there has been no need to shed belongings boxed in our basement, we have accumulated stuff disconnected to a happy existence. Once the photographs, yearbooks, and family art were gathered, I could not conceive there was anything else that we actually needed. Having said that, I decided not to let Anne know that our son’s first grade spelling tests had not made the cut. I was just too weary to argue the point.
Between 2 and 3 a.m. Thursday morning, things began to feel very bleak. With all due respect, I would hotly contest the fire department’s statement that the fire never got closer than a few hundred yards to a structure. The accompanying photo was taken early Thursday morning from our backdoor; you be the judge. The crackling was very loud. The warmth of the fire enveloped me, not in a good way. Extremely loud and incredibly close, the fire felt about as far away as a decent Hail Mary pass. The fire chief told our neighbors, who immediately called us, that “it wouldn’t be unexpected for the fire to make it all the way towards our house.” Well, “unexpected” at 3 a.m. is a relative term. We were also told that if the fire crossed the break, we would have four or five hours to evacuate, which is about as long as it takes me to pack for a quick overnighter. So, this is what “it is darkest before the dawn” means.
I will never again say “rain, rain go away.” By 5:30 a.m. Thursday morning, the line of fire threatening our neighborhood was visibly extinguished. The first rain in weeks could not have come at a better time.
At the risk of sounding schmaltzy, I would like to express my deep gratitude for the hundreds of dedicated firefighters, other responders, and town officials from near and far (including California and Wyoming) who came to our region’s aid. While I slept (comfortably in Atlanta), they worked long shifts risking life and limb to carve fire breaks to stifle the fire’s advance. It is hard to express how deeply grateful we are, but I can certainly make it my life’s work to try.
While the fire raged in the forest, our region was rocked by an earthquake of sorts on Tuesday: the announcement that Simon’s Rock’s Great Barrington campus would close by the end of summer, moving to Bard College’s Massena Campus in Barrytown, N.Y. That bit of news was perhaps more surprising than the fire, although it has been noted that it should not have been. Financially, Simon’s Rock has been in an unseen death spiral for some time—238 employees for 281 students is not financially feasible.
It is hard to overstate quite how critical Simon’s Rock is to our region. In an economically challenged area, along with the school district and Fairview Hospital, Simon’s Rock is among the town’s largest employers. The diverse student body exchanges with us as much as we hope we give to them. There is plentiful housing on the property. The Daniel Arts Center is home to Great Barrington Public Theater and other performing arts. The Kilpatrick Athletic Center, with its amazing aquatics, track, and fitness center, is open to the whole community. We get to claim the Coen Brothers as our own. What more needs to be said?
Concerned regional citizens with varied expertise (you can count me as concerned) are gathering to consider Simon’s Rock’s reuse. This is a turn-lemons-into-lemonade moment for the area. Simon’s Rock has announced that it intends to market the 275-acre property for sale, the proceeds of which will go to the school’s endowment. While Simon’s Rock has a right—no, make that an obligation—to maximize its return in connection with the transfer of the property, local interests no doubt will ask Simon’s Rock to consider locally interested bids focused on a beneficial reuse of the campus. No one, and surely not the Simon’s Rock trustees, would want the closure of Simon’s Rock to do to South County what General Electric’s departure did to Pittsfield.
Our region just had a forest fire. Let us hope Simon’s Rock will reject a fire sale to a McMansions developer eager to turn profit and run. Rather, on the table should be the thoughtful reuse of the theater, the cafeteria, the athletic center, the multiple classroom and administration buildings, and housing to benefit the region. If the Simon’s Rock trustees grant the community just a bit of time, Simon’s Rock’s legacy as a good partner to the region will be cemented. Based on past practices, it is reasonable to believe that Simon’s Rock will do everything it can to preserve the property for beneficial use of the region.
The news of Simon’s Rock’s departure was well received by no one, no doubt including Berkshire Hills Regional School District Superintendent Peter Dillon. Dr. Dillon has worked hard to get ahead of the view proffered by pretty much every sentient being that we should consider the Simon’s Rock campus as an alternative to the proposed Monument Mountain Regional High School renovation. Dr. Dillon would like us all to know that Simon’s Rock is unfit as a public high school campus, discussed here.
We should not discount the fact that Dr. Dillon, an esteemed educational professional with decades in school administration, knows what will and will not work as a Massachusetts public high school. Everyone else, you can put your hands down. There is a model; Simon’s Rock does not fit the model. That does not mean, however, that for all of us without, you know, any basis whatsoever to offer an opinion on the subject, it would be a wee bit of fun to consider the question.
Isn’t it ingrained in us “to dream things that never were and say, ‘Why not?’” Well, the “why not” here is that Simon’s Rock is a decentralized residential-based campus with aging buildings the acquisition of which looks nothing like the box that the Massachusetts School Building Authority (MSBA) would consider funding. Let us all agree that Dr. Dillon is absolutely right that MSBA currently would not approve public funding for the acquisition of Simon’s Rock. Still, it is tantalizing to consider that if Simon’s Rock does not fit snuggly in MSBA’s public high school box, perhaps it is time for the MSBA to think outside its box for rural communities with aging populations/declining enrollment that can no longer afford the urban/suburban box it is selling. Fun to consider, but we should defer to Dr. Dillon and the folks who actually know what they are talking about. On the other hand, is it not at least worth noodling how we could make it work? No, of course not, but still…
A fire and an “earthquake” in one week leads me to hope disasters do not come in threes. For the fire, let us all consider this a wakeup call—gather your critical belongings for the unlikely event you get a knock on the door, and let’s hope that our forest is closely examined for ways to minimize the next fire, which we all know will be here sooner rather than later. As for Simon’s Rock, while we mourn its loss, let us consider how it can be reused for the benefit of the region. Last, let us hope that Simon’s Rock grants our community an opportunity to outbid developers interested in high-end subdivided housing. The town has been good to Simon’s Rock. This time, it can return the favor.
Survey Monkey Question
Here is a link to the following Survey Monkey poll: “Given its integral relationship to the region, is it reasonable for concerned citizens to request Simon’s Rock grant them time to formulate a workable reuse plan providing for the purchase of the property?”
Survey Monkey Results
Here is the result of the following recent survey question: “By whatever means possible, including a Special Town Meeting if necessary, should Great Barrington undertake an immediate effort to obtain approval to fund engagement of Tighe & Bond to analyze opening the Brookside Road Bridge to emergency vehicles?”
As of publication, 86.76 percent of respondents said “yes.”
Days Great Barrington has wrongfully withheld Community Access Fees: 267
