Journey's End mobile homes remain red-tagged a year after North Bay fires

SANTA ROSA, Calif. - As the North Bay marks one year since devastating firestorms, people in one pocket of the fire zone feel forgotten.

Journey's End mobile home park was an affordable community of mostly seniors, on Mendocino Avenue in Santa Rosa. 

Of 160 mobile homes on the property, only 44 survived and although they are standing, they are red-tagged as uninhabitable.  

"Here they are, but who cares? Well, I do," survivor Robert Morgan told KTVU, walking along Sahara Street, the only street still intact at Journey's End.  

Morgan always sprang to help his elderly neighbors, so when the Tubbs Fire raged from the east into the mobile home park, he flagged down a fire engine, and grabbed a fire hose, helping three firefighters save the last row of homes.  

It was a brutal, three-hour firefight, but the trailers were also the only buffer between the inferno and the Kaiser Permanente Hospital next door, which was threatened and being evacuated.     

"By saving Sahara Street, we saved Kaiser, and that probably saved most of downtown Santa Rosa, but nobody really knows about that, " said Morgan. 

It was a valiant act, and he has been thanked by fire officials.

But Morgan tears up, thinking about how it backfired on his neighbors- grateful at first, but not anymore.  
"Five have called and left messages on my phone saying 'I wish you'd let my house burn to the ground. I don't want to live anymore.'"

Eleven of the surviving mobile homes were owned by the park and rented. 

The remaining 33 are privately owned, and they are in limbo. 

Retired bookkeeper Pat Crisco is one of the owners who once had a nice home she was proud of.

"Two bedrooms, two walk-in closets, bathroom, living room, dining room," she recited, giving KTVU a tour.

Crisco paid more than $100,000 for her 1970's era double-wide. 

But now the land it sits on is condemned - lacking water and electricity. 

Her trailer is intact so insurance won't pay to replace it, yet she can't live in it, as it's red-tagged.

Moving a mobile home costs about $30,000 but many of them, like Pat's, are too old to withstand a move, even if a space could be found for it.  

"So where do I go from here?," posed Crisco, "there is no finality to it, and I certainly can't go buy another house. It's purgatory."

On top of that, since the fire, her place has been broken into several times, ransacked and burglarized. 

Security cameras erected in the deserted park are no deterrent, as the chain-link fence can be easily breached.  

"I'm appalled," said Pat, "but I'm not surprised because you could see it coming."

Looking out at the empty swimming pool, and the leveled plot that held a community room, Crisco also misses the camaraderie of friends at Journey's End. 

Everyone has scattered, although they return for regular meetings about their uncertain status. 

On the evening of Monday Oct. 8, about 70 people attended a vigil in the park to mark the one year anniversary of the fire.  

"I feel really sad, because it's the only part of Santa Rosa that isn't getting rebuilt as it once was," said

Jessica Tunis, who suffered the worst loss imaginable. 

Her mother, Linda, died, trapped in her mobile home, after calling Jessica in a panic.  

"We were on the phone for seven minutes and I'm begging her to get out," recounted Tunis tearfully, "and she's telling me she can't get out, that she's going to die." 

Linda Tunis was 69 and only months before, had purchased her new mobile home and moved into Journey's End. 

"There was nothing I could do," said Jessica, " and I just said 'I love you mom over and over and over again until the line went dead."

Two days later, her brother found their mother's body near the ruins of the front door. 

One street over, another resident, Marilyn Ress, also died that night, unable to escape. 

Jessica is greeted like family by the remaining mobile home owners.

She feels for their unresolved situation, and they sympathize for her mom's death.   

"My mom and I were buddies, we were very close, and I miss her terribly," said Jessica, "and this week has been very tough and sweet. I have gotten a lot of support." 

Tunis wishes Kaiser would play philanthropist and buy the stymied homeowners out of their trailers, since Sahara Street provided the firebreak that helped save their multi-million dollar hospital. 

But so far, working as a group, with housing advocates and the owner, there is no solution in sight. 

"If this was Fountain Grove, Coffey Park, people would be all over it," said Robert Morgan, " but this is grandma land, grandpa land, and nobody cares."

Morgan doesn't regret saving his street.

In doing so, he also pulled an elderly neighbor, wheel-chair bound, from a certain death.

But he is heartsick that the consequences were so punishing for those he tried to help. 

"Now I feel like I did something wrong and you're not supposed to feel that way when you do something right," he said emotionally, "but a year later, here they are."

Eventually, a senior apartment complex is envisioned for the site, but it won't include mobile homes, and will take years to accomplish.