On Sunday, October 21, optometrist Susan Homesley was enjoying a pleasant day trip with her husband and two of her three twentysomething sons, when her sons cell phone rang. A neighbor was calling. Their rural town of Ramona, 35 miles northeast of San Diego, was being evacuated. A wildfire was spreading fast.

They raced back to town, which was in chaos. The road up to their mountaintop home was barred by a police blockade.

We have four dogs up there! Dr. Homesley told the police. But they turned her away.

Smoke was everywhere, but the fire wasnt dangerously closeyet. Her husband, Ray, and her sons started clambering up the mountain. But their progress through the manzanita bushes, scrub oak trees and chaparral was slow. So, she jumped into her SUV and drove it, not on the road, but straight up the mountain terrain.

On top of the mountain, visibility was nil. The Santa Ana winds blew smoke, dust and gravel at 100mph. It was like standing in front of a sandblaster, Dr. Homesley says.

Inside the house, they got their dogs and whatever memorabilia they could carry. They had to leave behind her husbands collection of antiques. They thought theyd be returning the next day, so they didnt bring many extra clothes, food or even a toothbrush.

There was only one road down the mountain. They had to get down it before the fire cut off their escape. Eventually, they made it. Their sons returned to their apartments, and after securing the dogs in the backyard of one of her staff members, Dr. and Mr. Homesley spent the night in the SUV.

The next day, they returned to the mountain. The fire had burned through every flower, bush and tree, creating a gray, barren moonscape. The smoke parted and they could see that the house was gone. All that was left was a pile of rubble, grit and ash. Their furniture, their irreplaceable antiques, their home videosall were lost.

You feel like somebody kicked you in the gut, she says.

The only thing left standing was the flagpole. Every Thanksgiving, Ray Homesley mounted a giant, 30-foot lighted star on the flagpole to celebrate the holidays. At night, the star could be seen in town and all across the valley. There would be no star this year, they thought.

After an hour of shock and despair, she and Ray returned to town. The mandatory evacuation was still in effect, but the fire hadnt touched the town of Ramona itself. For the next few days, they slept on the floor of her solo practice. The electricity and water still worked, but they had no spare clothes, no toiletries, and only a few leftovers in their tiny office refrigerator.

Dr. Homesley spent time on the phone canceling appointments. But, once word got around that she was still in town, a few patients did knock on her door. We saw a lot of alkali burns from the ash.

People who had been evacuated called her, pleading with her to take care of animals they had to leave behind. Dr. Homesley was more than happy to help. We fed llamas, alpacas, and all kinds of animals for people, she says. 

One call came from the office of Gordon, Binder & Weiss, a large ophthalmology practice based in San Diego. Cindy Haskell, the office administrator, had heard that the Homesleys were holed up in her office in the closed-off town. Within two hours, three vans pulled up. The vans had somehow made it through the police barricade. The men on the trucks unloaded inflatable beds, towels, food, water, clothes and other necessities.

They really saved our lives, Dr. Homesley says.

After nearly a week, the mandatory evacuation was lifted. Dr. Homesley opened her office again, and she and her husband got a room in a motel for a week. Soon, her insurance company found them a furnished rental home outside of town, with a fenced yard for the dogs. They plan to build a new house on the mountaintopthis time with fireproof materials.

It really makes you take stock of what is and isnt important, she says. I miss the pictures and the ornaments my kids made for Christmas. But, the people I love are safe and healthy. Thats all I care about.

One hopeful note: The Homesleys built a brand new 30-foot star. In early December, they raised it on the old flagpole. It gives people a little hope, Dr. Homesley says.