Inferno in the Lost Pines

by Katrina Hoover

Deputies ran from house to house, shouting to the people. Y'all need to evacuate! One yelled to a child. Where's your mom and dad? The child pointed. The deputy looked that direction and they ran off together, the child and the deputy, suddenly united by the adrenaline of escape. Down the road there were hurried fists on front doors. No polite pauses between knocks-these were desperate pounding crashes on top of each other. Exclamation marks punctuated every spoken word. Hearts lurched as people recognized the biting smell of smoke.
Stunned at the orders to evacuate, residents of Bastrop, Texas, left their homes full of irreplaceable memorabilia and fled to safety. They had little time to gather even the most essential possessions.
Inferno in the Lost Pines is filled with stories of people who had to make fast decisions when chased by a forest fire, and thoughtful decisions when moving into an unexpected future. Would they be able to find any shreds of grace and redemption in their smoldering circumstances?

228 pages, Kindle Edition

First published August 5, 2015

Reviews

[Einar Jensen · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Bastrop Complex, a gaggle of wildfires in Bastrop County, Texas, that ignited Labor Day Weekend of 2011 deserves better than Katrina Hoover’s Inferno in the Lost Pines. Her understanding of Fire science is commendable, but her story bogs down with personal details and an evangelical emphasis. As a reader, I don’t need a cast of principal characters or details like a customer allegedly leaving a $100 tip for a waitress who lost her home to the fire. I also tired rapidly of the “god is good and sovereign” theme when the wildfires killed four people (only two were noted by the author) and destroyed 1,673 homes. The book also would have benefited from maps showing wildfire growth and more captions on the photos.

Bastrop was a devastating wildfire in the middle of a summer and autumn where many Texas counties were burned over. I’m willing to read about the heroic actions of locals, but only to a point. It’s also critical that journalists or historians remain critical as they explore the chaos of wildfire. The endnotes list newspaper articles and documents from the Texas Fire Service, but Hoover doesn’t cite any sources for the countless conversations, testimonies, or thoughts she includes in the book.

Speaking of testimonies, I use that term in its sacred sense. The author belongs to Christian Aid Ministries, which is a proselytizing-based group that responded to Bastrop County from Ohio River to assist with recovery efforts. Faith-based entities remain a largely untapped resource for community risk reduction efforts before and after emergencies, but I don’t appreciate Hoover portraying her book as solid history when the last section begins, “We live in a world contaminated by sin.” She can believe what she wants, but this section and parts of the story that redirect the focus from the inferno to whether specific residents would maintain their faith are distractions. There are two stories crammed into this book; each—the wildfire and the experience of Bastrop’s Christian residents—deserves its own binding and its own audience.

[Iszy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I honestly hated it. The writing was meh, bland and boring mostly but, what really got me was the message. Like, WHAT?? If god sets your house on fire, you thank him for sparing your life. What the hell. -100/10 would never recommend, ever. This kind of crazy is why I'm an atheist.

[Labewbew Creighcreigh · Rating 1 out of 5]

I hated it.

[Katrina Lee]

This book celebrates the Christian faith and tenacity of wildfire victims in Bastrop, Texas. People panicked as the giant loblolly pine trees burst into flames. But faith in God proves stronger than fire.

I intersperse the stories of citizens with boxes of information about the cause, development, and aftermath of forest fires.