Surviving the Waldo Canyon Fire, one family shares their story

COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo. (KRDO) -- It was never the intention for their Ashton Park Place home to be their "forever" home. But, after 22 years, it became that.

That house was the first home Mark and Carla Albers bought after getting married.

"Our plan was: house, dog, kids," said Carla, smiling.

And, that's exactly what they did, in that order. Both agree it wasn't their ideal place, but the Mountain Shadows neighborhood was a perfect fit - kids could grow up playing outside. That home was where surrounding friends would become surrogate watchdogs and family.

Everything they built came tumbling down summer of 2012.

That summer began like any other for the Albers: camping and boating at Nebraska's Lake McConaughy. But, unlike the other times, days into their trip, they received a phone call from one of those beloved neighbors telling them about a fire in the foothills.

There were no evacuations yet for their home, but the Albers did give that neighbor permission to gather up a few items, like their photo albums and Carla's cellos, just in case.

Cutting their trip short, the family made their way back home to Colorado Springs. Still, the fire was in the forest, west of their home.

The immediate danger seemed far away.

"You never have that feeling that it's going to happen to you. That was just the big thing - 'They're not going to let houses burn. It's off in the distance.' We were off far enough that it didn't seem like a reality at that point," remembered Mark.

He, like so many others, went to work Tuesday, June 26 like any other day. Not realizing the fire was about to take a deadly turn.

By 4. p.m., the Waldo Canyon Fire breached the top of Queen's Canyon and barreled down the Rampart Range. By 4:20 p.m. then-Mayor Steve Bach made the sobering announcement: there would be mandatory evacuations, including the Albers home.

"I finally opened up the garage, and I look out, and the fire's coming down the foothills," recalled Carla. "We were literally throwing stuff into the back of his truck."

They barely had enough time to gather shorts and a few t-shirts.

If leaving the property wasn't stressful enough, actually evacuating the area was anything but smooth sailing. It took Carla - and more than 26,000 others - more than an hour to get out of their neighborhood to I-25.

For the majority of that time, she couldn't get ahold of her son on the phone, who was traveling in a separate vehicle.

"At that point, you start to really get panicky. It was like lava was coming down the hill."

Their family was able to eventually reunite, only to be gripped by the unknowns.

It would be days later, Carla found an aerial photograph in the Denver Post, showing their neighborhood. Her fears were confirmed: their house - along with hundreds of others - was gone.

"I just burst into tears," said Carla.

Finally being allowed to return to their property, days later, came with additional grief. There was precious little to salvage - most was beyond repair.

Months of tabulating and assessing what was lost became their task in the months that followed. Their insurance company wanted to know what was burned, what brand it was, when they purchased the item, and how much they paid for it.

"You know you've lost everything, but you don't know everything you've lost - because you can't remember," said Carla.

Adding to the loss, some families who once lived nearby, couldn't bear the thought of returning to the neighborhood again. Such was the case with their next-door neighbors, selling their lot to the Albers, who eventually designed their new, "forever" home, in the adjacent lot on Ashton Park Place.

Ten years removed from such devastating loss, the Albers still carry with them a poignant reminder of what does matter: "Things are not important. Relationships are important," according to Carla.

An apt "forever" motto.