California wildfire victims sent to motels instead of shelters, to lessen COVID-19 spread
California’s fire evacuees this summer are going to be sent to motels instead of sleeping on cots inside of gyms, churches and community centers, as officials try to keep COVID-19 infections from spreading through tightly packed shelters.
Before the coronavirus, evacuees with nowhere else to go would be sent to a shelter where they could usually stay for as long as they needed.
Now, thousands of fire evacuees across the state are being directed to what officials are calling “temporary evacuation points,” locations where people can cool off, grab a snack, and complete a needs assessment from the American Red Cross, said Stephen Walsh, a spokesman for the non-profit’s California Gold Country Region based in Sacramento.
If someone has nowhere else to go, the Red Cross will try to find them lodging at a motel or hotel paid for by the non-profit, he said.
The move comes as hundreds of rooms across California are booked through Gov. Gavin Newsom’s Project Roomkey program to house the homeless during the pandemic, though occupancy rates are lower overall due to fewer people traveling.
The Red Cross’ traditional shelter model isn’t off the table, but they’ll only be used as a last resort in a massive fire that overwhelms local motel capacity. State officials have said the state may also house people in its temporary COVID-19 field hospitals such as Sacramento’s Sleep Train Arena, if the situation becomes especially dire.
As of Wednesday morning, Sleep Train hadn’t been opened for the current spate of fires, said Brian Ferguson, a spokesman for the Governor’s Office of Emergency Services.
The Red Cross has implemented the same COVID-19 shelter model across the country to prevent the coronavirus from infecting evacuees when they’re at their most vulnerable. Health officials say the risks inside a shelter are profound, and previous disease outbreaks show just how quickly a virus can spread through them.
In 2018, the norovirus — a highly virulent infection that causes explosive diarrhea and violent vomiting — sickened hundreds of people in Butte County evacuation centers following the Camp Fire, which displaced thousands of people when the town of Paradise and surrounding communities were destroyed.
One of the largest norovirus outbreaks came following Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Nearly 24,000 evacuees were sheltered at Houston’s Reliant Park, a sports and convention complex. Of them, 6,500 — more than one in three people — got sick.
Dr. Jake Scott, an infectious disease specialist at Stanford University, said there’s no reason to believe the highly contagious coronavirus wouldn’t spread with nearly the same ferocity through an evacuation center.
The risks come from what he calls the “Three C’s”: Confined spaces, crowding and close contact.
“We’re seeing a lot of outbreaks all over the country,” Scott said. “And some of these super-spreader events, for the most part, all come back to that scenario.”
With those concerns in mind, Walsh said volunteers are working with county health officials to screen people coming inside temporary evacuation points, including doing temperature checks to make sure they didn’t have a fever.
Volunteers also are working to ensure people keep their distance and the facilities are regularly cleaned. Once evacuees find a room, they’ll be given meals like they would at a shelter, but instead of buffet-style chow lines, food will either be placed outside their door or they’ll be allowed to grab a meal from a table, one person at a time, Walsh said.
“We have to keep COVID-19 health guidelines up front no matter what,” Walsh said.
Scenes from Vacaville shelters
Evacuees Wednesday morning milled around outside, scrolling on their phones and sitting at benches with wide gaps between them at the Ulatis Community Center in Vacaville, one of the local temporary evacuation points for those fleeing the lightning-sparked fires that burned at least 50 buildings.
Others paced around the parking lot, sitting in the open trunks of their cars or gathering at campers.
Katie O’Brien was told to leave her home in Vacaville at 5 a.m. Since then, she’d been sitting in her car with the AC on to escape the heat, and taking her German Shepherd, Duke, out for the occasional walk.
“We don’t know what we’re doing,” she said. “We’re just kind of in limbo.”
She’s planning to go to a hotel. But she hadn’t heard of the Red Cross providing vouchers. She was planning to purchase a room herself.
“I’m just a little bit worried,” she said. “We have our animals and our cars, and we have no place to go.”
Those who went inside the center were given snacks, water and sat at tables six feet apart. All wore face masks as they filled out a questionnaire at a table stocked with hand sanitizer, masks and disinfectant wipes.
Water fountains were covered by trash bags, and a sign outside warned people to practice physical distancing.
Gary Brown, 72, went inside briefly to check in but spent most of the morning outside reading his book. Brown said the center didn’t do a temperature check on him, but “they did clean the pen before I signed in, which was nice,” he said, laughing.
Brown doesn’t have a smartphone, and he left his computer at home. So he’s left without internet access while he waits for more information.
“My main frustration is: what’s going on?” he said. The pandemic, he said, is making a stressful situation even worse.
“You have the COVID, then you have this to add to the confusion,” he said.
This story was originally published August 19, 2020 at 3:14 PM.