Sinagua Rising: A story of survival after a worldwide catastrophe

by R. G. Andersen-Wyckoff

  It was amazing how much material and supplies they hauled to the maintenance yard over a three-day period, at one point even dismantling part of the aluminum maintenance barn to recover the sheets of corrugated aluminum to use later for roof coverings in the village.

  On the second day at Colby’s, while coming back from dropping off a load at the maintenance yard, they encountered a group of people walking west on Verde Valley School Road. They were carrying their belongings in suitcases, backpacks, plastic bags, and anything else they could carry. A couple had their belongings in a wheeled garden cart. The people paid little or no attention to the truck and trailer as they intently continued to whatever destination they had in mind. Jason recognized one of the boys at the back of the group and called him over.

  “Where are you going, Eddie?” Jason asked.

  “We heard that a refugee camp has been set up along Oak Creek in Red Rocks State Park,” he replied.

  “Who set it up?” Jason inquired.

  “We don’t know, but there’s plenty of water from Oak Creek, restrooms, and gardens,” Eddie replied.

  Jason knew not to pursue questioning about how the restrooms would work for very long, even if they were chemical toilets, and he wasn’t aware of any previous gardens at the park, but he kept quiet. If there was anything he had learned from Bishop, it was that it was important to have a purpose—and hope. Before Eddie moved on, Jason asked him where they had come from.

  “We’ve been living in the Jack’s Canyon neighborhood known as Pine Valley,” he responded. “There are quite a few people still there,” he continued, “but some of us thought that a refuge at the State Park might be safer and better able to provide for us.”

  Jason did not say what he was thinking, I think they’ll find they made the long walk for nothing. He waved at Eddie as the parade moved on.

  They saw no one else on the road during the time they were moving supplies. Colby said that either other groups had moved through unnoticed by them or maybe there just weren’t any other groups left, other than those in Pine Valley, which accounted for the smoke streams they had seen there. When Colby reported that to the group that night, it made all of them feel fortunate for what they had while at the same time feeling sadness for the potentially bleak future facing those people.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  The first thing they had moved up to the village, after having cut off the poles blocking the trailhead path, were several loads of T1-11 plywood siding they had “liberated” from a project near the home Colby had been building. They found that the ATV had enough power and traction to pull a utility trailer up the hill to the mesa as long as they only filled it half way. With the T1-11 at the greenhouse, Colby, Bud, Matt, and Jorge were able to completely side the greenhouse in two days. Jorge finished the exteriors of the doors and windows shortly thereafter.

  While they were doing the siding, Tanner, Jack, Jason, and Philip, who they now all called “Chappie,” continued moving supplies from the maintenance yard to the village storage tents. The tents were now filled to capacity and only materials that should not be out in the moisture were put in the tents, replacing materials that were moved outside. When time allowed, they would move more of the building supplies up to the greenhouse where they would be covered and readily available to use during the winter. As it was it took the rest of the week to move everything up to the village.

  Colby decided that he and Jorge would work on the glass panels in the ceiling as the time and weather permitted. The completion of the greenhouse was definitely ahead of schedule and most likely would be ready to move into in the spring.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  Once everything was moved, Tanner and Matt began building a handrail for the steps and trail going down to the creek using galvanized pipe they had also “liberated” from a fencing project in the Village. It was the first time Matt had demonstrated his welding skills since the move to Duwa and he proved he had a magic touch with the welding torch to rival his backhoe skills. The creek was still running too high and swiftly to safely swim in it, so they were able to finish their project before the railings needed to be used. Toward the first part of October, they got a warmer stretch and the creek had settled back into its normal course, so the women decided it had been too long since they had had a proper bath, having washed in the sinks in the toilet trailer for the past two months. The handrails were an immediate hit with everyone except the children who preferred to jump and skip their way up and down the trail.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  During this same period Jack, Bishop, and Chappie took all the empty Jerry cans, one of the 250-gallon polyethylene tanks, and one of the 7500 watt generators and, with Jason riding shotgun went into the Village in Bud’s truck. They decided it would be best if they could stop using the gasoline and diesel fuel in the maintenance yard and keep that as their rainy-day reserve, when other fuel sources were either no longer available or they needed a quick supply. So, they were going to test Chappie’s theory about being able to pump gas and diesel from the underground storage tanks at one of the remaining gas stations. And, it worked. Filling the diesel tank in the back of Bud’s truck first using a hand pump, they then hooked up the generator to a gasoline pump and filled all the Jerry cans and the large tank. They would now have enough fuel to run the generators and electric heaters throughout the winter, while still keeping the tanks at the Ranger Station in reserve. As had been the case on most other occasions, they saw no people in the vicinity.

  Jack and Chappie made one more trip down to the Ranger Station to fill all the propane tanks so they’d have fuel for the remaining propane operated heaters.

  The women were also preparing for colder weather and winter, though it was still a couple of months away. Those who sewed were making warm weather clothing for the children who had none, while others sorted through the storage closets and moved the cold weather clothing to the fore.

  Genny came up with the idea of bringing the supply of firefighters boots they had moved up from the Ranger Station to the Meeting Hall where everyone could try on boots to get the right sizes. With a black marker they put the appropriate person’s name on the boots for easy identification later. They then lined them up inside the doorway of the Meeting Hall, along the side of the tent. Those who already had their own boots simply placed them with the newly marked boots. It turned out that everyone had boots, even little Javi, who was able to fit into a pair of Kiera’s boots if he kept his tennis shoes on. Kiera was quick to point out to Javi that he was wearing a pair of HER boots.

  Elle, as Ellen was now called, spent many hours on the sewing machine making clothing for the new grandchild she expected the first week in November, with assistance from Kristen and Estella, who they discovered was not only a cook but an excellent seamstress. In addition to the clothing for the baby, they cut a larger military blanket into four smaller blankets and also made a small sleeping bag. Celeste, the knitting specialist of the group, knitted booties, gloves, and caps for the baby. No one worried whether the colors were pink or blue, they just wanted to make sure the baby had warm things to keep it healthy.

  Kathleen’s baby bump, as she called it, was very visible now and she had noticeably gained weight in preparation for the coming event. Jason paid a lot of attention to her and they could be seen chatting seriously in one corner of the Meeting Hall or another whenever Jason was not on his rounds or working in the temporary greenhouse. Mel was even preparing a birthing area in the medical tent with all the supplies and linens they would need. Michael had been told that he was to prepare hot water as soon as Kathleen began labor and keep it hot until Mel said, “that’s enough.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  Now that the weather was turning cooler as they approached the middle of October, and when it wasn’t raining, campfires became a regular evening event. Small sections of telephone poles had been left over from the greenhouse construction and were chopped into firewood which, along with left-over
lumber and dead brush collected by the children, were used to build the fires. The fires weren’t big, blazing affairs, but were large enough to create heat as the 33 Duwanians gathered around the perimeter of the fire pit.

  The first campfire, as before, Jason and Philip brought out their guitars, Colby brought his guitar and 5-string banjo, and Bud brought his wood blocks, and they all had a merry time singing the oldies. Even if they didn’t know the words, as most of the children didn’t, they sang along as if they did.

  The next evening they gathered for a campfire, Jorge had a surprise for them, he brought a washtub bass. Well, it wasn’t really a washtub it was a five-gallon plastic bucket turned upside down. Using a broom handle with a notch on the bottom to fit on the lip of the bucket, he then ran a piece of the coated wire from the top of the broom handle through a hole in the bottom of the bucket and knotted it. With his foot on the edge of the bucket, to hold it in place, he would pluck the wire and by pulling back on the broom handle he could tighten or loosen the wire and produce different pitches, just like a real bass. He was very good at matching the bass sounds to the music the others were making and was a big hit with everyone. It seems the Escalantes were just full of surprises.

  The children loved the throbbing sounds of the bass and Bud’s wood blocks and began dancing around the fire pit like they were Indians. The Sinagua would have been surprised, if not proud.◘

  Chapter 33

  Storm

  As they approached Halloween, which was only two weeks away, when the Red Rocks normally saw their first dusting of snow, the Duwanians had everything in readiness for winter. Heaters had been set up in the Meeting Hall as well as the temporary greenhouse. One heater was placed in the Medical Tent and a couple in the new greenhouse to enable work to proceed inside during the winter. The heater in the restroom trailer was hooked up to the solar inverter/controller, all the tent stakes were checked and the ropes tightened, and the drainage trenches around the tents were checked and cleaned. They even set up the scene lights they had found in the Fire Team storage building so they could work on the dark winter days and at night, if they wished.

  They hadn’t had any rain for the last week though they saw large thunderheads building in the north trailing grey skirts of rain; nothing seemed to be moving their way—yet.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  It was Halloween, though the children had not been reminded of the date, and they had just finished dinner and were enjoying the relaxed camaraderie, when Jack, who had been frequency-hopping on the short wave radio, picked up the familiar tone of the Emergency Alert System and quickly got the attention of the others. He adjusted the frequency and turned up the volume in time to hear: “…the President of the United States.”

  “My fellow Americans,” he began in the phrase that had become synonymous with the start of all Presidential speeches, “I must first apologize for the long delay since my first address to the Nation following the solar event. As I’m sure you can imagine, the enormity of the calamity has required the utmost focus and attention on the part of my senior advisors and myself.

  “As a first order of business, my advisors have recommended, and I have concurred, that due to the unrest this solar event has caused, I am hereby declaring Martial Law throughout the country. I have put all our troops on the highest alert and have called up all the National Guards.”

  “Unrest!” exclaimed Travis. “From what we’ve heard, unrest must be a euphemism for anarchy. And how did he communicate with his troops and National Guards? Makes me wonder who his senior advisors are; his wife, kids, and First Dog?” he said cynically.

  “There will be no National Elections in 2016 and, as advised, I will continue to serve as President and Commander-in-Chief until such time as order is restored throughout the country. The States, of course, may proceed as their own special circumstances may dictate.”

  “Oh, oh,” interjected Bud, “President for life. And what, pray tell, can the states do without the assistance of the Federal Government; secede?”

  “We have had reports of large numbers of our citizens attempting to enter our military installations seeking food, water, and shelter. Unfortunately, we cannot allow this as it will most certainly compromise the National Security. The resources of our bases are finite and must be allocated to our security personnel.

  “We are working as quickly as possible to establish the safe zones in each region of the United States that I proposed in my last conversation with you, where our citizens can seek assistance. Such zones, or relocation centers, will be established where there is a sufficient supply of ground water to sustain personal and agricultural needs. Cooperatively we will build sustainable communities powered by wind and solar energy.

  “Several of these relocation centers are nearing completion now and I have ordered troops into our most critical cities to begin moving citizens to these centers. We have determined not to announce the location of these centers until more of them are completed in order that they not be impacted beyond their capabilities. It will take time for the citizens in these centers, along with our advisors, to allow the centers to become self-sustaining.”

  “Sounds like reservations to me,” said Travis, “but I guess if that’s the only way to survive then so be it. I, for one, prefer our own safe zone, relocation center, here in Duwa,” he concluded. His comments were met with “Hear, hear,” from everyone else.

  “The longer they take to build these relocation centers and move people to them, the fewer people they’ll have to deal with. It seems like it’s in their best interest to take their time and to be very selective about who they bring to these centers. And, how in God’s name will most people ever learn about these center? Only those of us who are lucky enough to have short-wave radios and a power source can even hear the President and, over time, those will diminish to a scant few. Here’s to the new Nation of Duwa” he said facetiously.

  “My advisors have informed me that it could be 100 years before we can completely restore the manufacturing capabilities of the country to a point we can rebuild our infrastructure. This is a long term endeavor we are in—together—and we must resist the temptation to accept easy solutions that impede our ability to build lasting ones.”

  “Easy for him to say,” muttered Travis. “He’s not among the masses of citizens who have no food, water, shelter, medical supplies, or hope. By the time he gets his lasting solutions everyone here now, including him, will be dead!”

  “Because this radio broadcast will be reaching fewer and fewer of our citizens as time passes, I will be discontinuing these broadcasts in favor of the face-to-face contacts that will be made with you by our military representatives as we offer you the opportunity to move to the relocation centers. Only in the event of a major breakthrough or new event will I resort to the EAS. Until then, God bless you and God bless America.”

  “This has been a message from the President of the United States via the National Emergency Alert System,” the announcer intoned. Within seconds, the E.A.S. tone again sounded—for the last time.

  “Well, I feel better already,” jibed Travis.

  “What does all this mean?” asked Jorge, who had not heard the initial Presidential broadcast.

  “Well, Jorge,” said Bishop, “we know for sure we won’t need to monitor the radio for another Presidential address anytime in the near future, and we won’t be seeing any federal assistance up here on the mesa in our lifetimes. It means we’re on our own.”

  “And, that’s fine by me,” said Carly. “We’ve done fine so far and we’ll continue doing so.”

  “It also means,” continued Bishop, “that we can continue to build our community without politics, without haves and have nots, and without inequality. In Duwa, every voice matters. In the future, when our children’s children, and their children, talk about ‘back in the day,’ they’ll be talking about us and what we do right now. That’s the benefit we’ll have over communities built by the government. Our
survival is our own responsibility and, from what I’ve seen so far, we have what it takes.”

  Jack turned off the radio, knowing that nothing they could hear from somewhere else would in any way improve their destiny.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  Over the next few days everyone continued working on their projects in order to make as much progress as they could before winter really set in, whenever that occurred.

  Travis, Tate, and Jason worked diligently in the temporary greenhouse with the seedlings and cuttings for fruit trees that Travis had been cultivating at his home. Several of the trees where in large containers and one lemon tree and one mandarin orange tree already had a small amount of fruit. Travis had always felt that lemons and oranges were essential fruits and had two larger producing trees in his yard. Unfortunately, they were too large to move to Duwa. But the smaller ones would provide for their future needs if they took care of them and increased their number. He taught Tate and Jason how to care for them, how to transplant the smaller starter plants and how to plant cuttings. The latter was important for the apple trees he was growing.

  As he related to the boys, “in 1901 T.C. Schnebly and his wife Sedona settled in the area along Oak Creek in what is now known as Los Abrigados, in central Sedona. When T.C. and his neighbors decided they needed a post office to expedite receiving mail, they needed a name for the post office and, after some deliberation, settled on Sedona, T.C.’s wife’s name. The post office was granted and operated in the back of the Schnebly home for many years. But, that’s not the important part of my story,” Travis continued. “Sedona Schnebly loved apples, so T.C. planted an apple orchard for her and Sedona, the town, has been known for its wonderful apples ever since. Evidently, the climate is just right. I took several cuttings from one of the current orchards and have been giving them tender loving care ever since. These apple trees have a lot of history in their veins and I’m sure will provide wonderful apples for us over time,” he concluded.