In Goshen fire, neighborhood defense began with one call

As a newly ignited fire burned rapidly through grass near Goshen on a windy afternoon, neighbors reached for their phones and formed their own line of defense.

When Steve Stuart got a call as the Hideaway Hills Fire broke out Wednesday, Aug. 20, he hitched a trailer to his pickup truck. On it was a do-it-yourself water tender he had built earlier in the summer — a 275-gallon water tank outfitted with a gas-powered, pressurized hose.

In three minutes, he arrived where dark flames crawled up the hill. He and his neighbors started spraying.  

“We did some good,” Stuart said. “That’s the whole point of this thing, is that you have this little period of time before the fire department gets there with their equipment, and they’re prepared, and they’re trained in it.”

On the spot, Stuart realized he hadn’t trained his neighbors on the new equipment. He had the background — he fought wildfires in the Fremont-Winema National Forest in the 1970s to pay for college and later had a career in technical projects for the Eugene Water & Electric Board — but his neighbors didn’t. They tangled the hose yet still managed to keep the fire from going toward a home.

“If you can just keep it sort of contained until they get there, it makes all the difference,” he said. 

Pleasant Hill Goshen Fire & Rescue credited the rapid response with keeping the fire to 3.5 acres. First responders said defensible space also made a critical difference — the cleared area around a property that slows flames from reaching structures and gives firefighters room to work.

Many, like Stuart, took action after a fire in the area last year in early August, which also prompted evacuations. This time around, about 250 people lived in the area under tiered evacuation notices, some under Level 3 (“Go Now”) and others in Level 2 (“Be Set”).

For Lynn Peacock, she and her family weren’t taking any chances at their farmstead. The bonds they have with their animals are irreplaceable.

She rushed home from work, picking up her son, and then pulled up to her husband and daughters leading horses into trailers. She moved fast.

“I just took and threw everything out of my van, all the seats and stuff, just in the middle of my yard, and started loading up goats in there,” Peacock said. 

She then called her friend, Shannon Sias, who owns Wagon Wheel Feed Store, and told her they were half a block from a “Level 3” notice.

“She said, ‘Do you need more trailers?’” Peacock recalled, noting they could only move eight of their 14 horses. “She said, ‘I’m on my way.’”

Sias pulled into their driveway 18 minutes later. They caravanned out, Peacock with goats crammed behind a toddler’s car seat.

As the sun set through the haze, they drove to the Cottage Grove Rodeo Grounds, where they hurriedly unloaded horses into pens before half the family turned back for the rest of the livestock.

From fire to rodeo grounds

The rodeo grounds are home to the Cottage Grove Riding Club, where members practice roping — riders on horseback lassoing cattle — every Wednesday night. Echo McKinnon, a club member, was waiting to help. 

“We’ve done it before,” said McKinnon, referring to the devastating wildfires across western Oregon in 2020, including the Holiday Farm and Fall Creek Falls fires. 

“If there’s ever an emergency, this place is open, and it wasn’t just for these guys,” she said looking at a corral of horses. “We’ve opened up for trailers of humans, too. People who were out [working] on the fires.”

It’s part of an evolving community they’ve built for years, both inside and outside the arena. 

Board member Scott Potter grew up in the area, witnessing the changes that came with it, including how fires have become more disruptive over the decades. On Wednesday, he got an alert from WatchDuty, an app that provides real-time wildfire information, about the fire near Goshen.

He began tracking what was unfolding and contacting people who might need help. It’s something he expects will happen again, and so, like others in this fire-prone landscape, he’ll be dialed in.

“One phone call,” he said. “Because that’s what you do. You help.”