Nevada County Picayune and Gurdon Times Newspaper Archive

From The Counselor's Desk

As I hurriedly drove toward town, I kept asking myself if I had turned off my coffeemaker. Nearing the crest of a hill, I could see the dim glow in the distant darkness.

"Did I, or did I not turn off that darned coffee pot?" I could just see myself pouring the final cup that morning and then pushing the red button. I just knew I had, but still I worried. Minutes before the phone had awakened me with a start. Teresa Ragsdale asked, "Has anyone called you about the school?"

"What about it?" I replied.

"It's on fire!" she said.

I quickly dressed and rushed to my car.

I turned down the Cale Road to approach the school from the rear. A quick glance out the window showed the sky glowing with a dull orange, and I caught the flickering of yellow flames in the distance. By then, I had convinced myself that I had turned off my coffeemaker. Once, I had almost created a fire by leaving one on during weekend. I couldn't get that out of my mind.

I parked near the superintendent's office and hurried around to the front where several people were standing. When I saw the building, it was obvious that the fire wasn't burning from my office. I couldn't feel releived; I just felt sick.

There have been times when I have watched other people watching their homes burn, and I wondered what they were feeling. I mentioned to someone standing near that I felt as if my home were burning. Over the last twenty-plus years, there have been many occasions when I spent more time at school than at my home.

If anything can be called a community tragedy, surely it must be the burning of its school. The illuminated faces of students and adults told the story. There were tears and looks of disbelief, the kind which originated from feelings that such things only happen to the other people. Many voices were hushed, comforting and encouraging.

While most stood in shocked helplessness, others could not pause for emotions. Yellow-suited firemen and emergency personnel were in action. I mentioned to several of the firemen that the vault at the front of the building housed the only thing which could not be replaced -- the permanent records from the early 1900s to present. The fire burned hottest here, and they turned the hoses on it.

Flashing lights and sirens announced the arrival of more trucks and firemen each minute. They were here and there. They were pulling hoses and climbing ladders. They shouted orders and called for more water. They were on the roof, and they were inside. They were magnificent!

If any civilian profession can be compared to a military conquest it must be firemen. As the blaze was contained, and after most of the spectators had left, they stood their vigil. Their eyes were hollow in smoke-blackened faces, and their chests heaved laborously from breathing the noxious smoke, but they looked content and satisifed. They had won a battle.

Prescott School District has lost much, but so much has been saved. I am not adequate enough with words to fully express the gratitude that we teachers and administrators feel for the fireman, policemen, rescue and emergency units from Prescott, nearby communities and neighboring towns.

We praise your sacrifice, your professionalism, and dedication to a service which places even your very lives in peril. From our hearts, the best we have to offer is simply, "Thank you."

There are others which also must be thanked. The many members of the community -- churches, organizations, companies, and even individuals who have offered assistance and provided needed materials, we also wish to thank. The "goodies" and drinks provided by churches and individuals have meant a lot to our displaced faculty. Thank you all for your wonderful kindness and generosity.

The following weeks are going to be difficult for teachers and students, but it will all work out. One of our teachers reminded us that this is just a little thing in the large scheme of life. We have lost a building and some expensive equipment. That can be replaced. We have not lost a life, and we have not lost our spirit. We did not even lose a single permanent record.

Once, the evangelist Billy Graham was asked what it would take to save America. He replied, "A disaster!" He knew, as we all do, how people work together when there is loss. Our loss has already brought us closer. I saw more cooperation last week than I have seen in the past year.

Prescott schools have had some difficult times in the last couple of years. We have experienced troubles, changes and transitions. Now we face even more, but PHS is still intact. Our administrators, teachers and students are alive and well. One day, a new building will arise from the ashes like the mythical Phoenix, and years from now, we'll look back and say, You know, we made it all right!"