PUEBLO — Deborah Beauchamp raised her arm in the air, tears welling in her eyes, as the Grass Seed Jug Band finished the last verse of the country standard “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.”
“Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, Lord, by and by,” the band members sang Tuesday outside an wildfire evacuation shelter in Pueblo. “There’s a better home awaiting, in the sky, Lord, in the sky.”
For Beauchamp, the shelter at the has become a salvation of sorts as she bonds with other evacuees who fled southern Colorado’s raging Aspen Acres fire over the last week, and finds hope in the kindness of community members.
“In the midst of all this, there’s been so much good,” Beauchamp, of Colorado City, said. “I’ve done a lot of crying, but that’s not because I’m sad.”
On this day at the , the song’s lyrics about homes carried special meaning as people waited to learn whether their own houses survived the flames that had burned 91,982 acres — about 144 square miles — across Pueblo and Custer counties by Monday evening.
The Aspen Acres fire started one week ago, on June 29, and is now the seventh-largest in the . By Monday afternoon, it had burned at least 263 homes and four commercial businesses in Pueblo and Custer counties and was 13% contained, officials said.
The wildfire has forced the evacuation of nearly 12,000 people, mostly in Pueblo County, but also in parts of Custer, Fremont and Huerfano counties. More than 1,500 firefighters, including crews from around the country, are battling the blaze, one of four wildfires in Colorado larger than 10,000 acres.
The fire expanded overnight Sunday after a storm with strong winds pushed the flames toward the town of Wetmore, a tiny community 30 miles west of Pueblo in Custer County.
Monday afternoon, incident commander Jake Livingston said firefighting teams had made progress on building a perimeter on the eastern side of the wildfire, which is closer to more populated areas, but warned that “this fire does remain active and still has potential for large fire growth up in the northern and western areas.”
“Our challenges are really just that itap very hot, very dry and we have high-wind conditions associated with thunderstorms now,” he said.
The evacuation center at the Pueblo Recreation Center is one of three for Aspen Acres evacuees.
On Sunday night, the rec center housed 42 people and helped countless others will everything from medical care to showers to hot meals to free provisions, including shoes, phone chargers and pet food, said Sandy Nebl, a Red Cross volunteer managing the shelter.
Pueblo residents and others across Colorado have rallied to help the fire evacuees, she said.
“The humanity has been amazing,” Nebl said.
‘The ground is just charcoal’
The Grass Seed Jug Band came to play a lunchtime show because one of its members, Dave Bokel, has lived at the rec center since fleeing his home in Beulah on June 30. He borrowed someone’s guitar to sit in on Monday’s jam session.
Bokel volunteered on Sunday to accompany Beulah’s town water manager past the fire line to inspect water tanks. The two men reattached ladders that had become separated from the tanks and were able to inspect two of them before strong winds made it unsafe to check out the third.
“The ground is just charcoal,” Bokel said.
But the good news: The two homes on his property were still standing, as was Beulah’s Main Street, with its post office, grocery and a few shops.
It was a close call, Bokel said.
One of his favorite places to hike is Mount Nebo, also known locally as because an American flag always flies at the peak. The flag is gone, and the mountain is charred, with the only color being the red fire retardant that airplanes dumped on the blaze.
That, however, saved Beulah, Bokel said. “I’m amazed.”
But Bokel said he has mixed emotions knowing his house still stands while so many others suffered total losses.
“It makes me want to cry,” he said of the joy that his home is OK. “It also feels a little weird that so many people have lost theirs.”
‘Most important thing I’ve done in years’
Ginia Littlepage stopped by the shelter with her husband on Monday to ask if their dog, Elvis, could spend a few hours in the emergency pet center while they took care of some business. The couple learned over the weekend that their home, about a half mile from Beulah, did not burn.
“I’m sure we’re going to have some cleanup with all that ash and smoke,” Littlepage said. “We’d love to get back in. They’re monitoring the air quality, and it’s still very, very bad.”
Littlepage rested on a bench with Elvis as the jug band wrapped its set.
The band is known for its daily performances outside in downtown Pueblo, with a rotating cast of members playing old-time instruments such as a washtub bass, washboards and autoharps as well as guitars.
Myrna Filler, the washboard player, and Elliott Ring, the Grass Seed Jug Band’s founder, said they hoped to make evacuees smile for a little bit.
“This feels like the most important thing I’ve done in years,” Filler said.
And Ring said the band fed off the crowd.
“It made us a little better,” he said. “We usually don’t sound as good.”
Some good news at last
Beauchamp said the jug band’s performance was one of the many things that have made the shelter a temporary home, even if the sleeping cots are uncomfortable.
People have leaned on each other, taking turns listening to each other’s fears, she said.
“It’s become an emergency evacuation family,” Beauchamp said. “It just seems to be that if you’re willing to be open to it, there are so many blessings here.”
As she spoke, her husband Roger Beauchamp walked up and declared, “I just got some really good news!”
A neighbor who had not evacuated — against law enforcement’s warnings — reported that his house and the Beauchamps’ home were both still standing and there appeared to be little smoke damage.
The development spread smiles across the Beauchamps’ faces as they thought about going home. They just wished there was a pass available to allow livestock owners to cross road closures to check on their animals. But they will have to wait.
“Can I put a big ol’ mask on you?” Deborah Beauchamp joked with her husband.
“And I’ll go, ‘Moooooo,'” he said with a laugh.
Denver Post staff writers Nick Coltrain and Lauren Penington contributed to this report.
