A desperate search and an impossible Camp Fire escape: One family's fight to reunite

John Warner never stopped hoping he'd find his family members who were missing after the Camp Fire destroyed Paradise, California.


A grandson's desperate search for his grandparents after the Camp Fire ends with an incredible story of survival. USA TODAY

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He pushed his way through the solid crowd — steadily moving past people who’d lost their homes, firefighters and officers still searching for the missing — until he reached the Butte County sheriff.

John Warner thrust the homemade flier against the tired lawman’s chest.

“I’m looking for my grandparents,” Warner said, his voice trembling, his eyes red. “I know you’re doing everything you can. But you need to do more.”

Sheriff Kory Honea had spent the past three days driving through communities ravaged by a fire that swallowed whole towns in the scenic Sierra Nevada foothills.

Minutes before, in a Chico State University auditorium filled with more than 100 people wanting answers, Honea had walked onto the stage. He knew anything he said would fall short of comfort.

People had survived chaos. Some were still living it.

“I am your sheriff and I’m also your coroner,” Honea said.

The room fell silent.

“My heart goes out to each and every one of you,” he said. “I know many are worrying about whether you have a home.”

More: Trump blames California for fires, but many of the worst on federal land

Then, he turned to the only thing worse than losing everything you own. Three days had passed since the fire. In those three days, they’d received 120 missing-persons reports. The emergency hotlines hadn’t stopped ringing.

“That’s in addition to over 500 calls from citizens asking us to go out and check various locations for loved ones or friends who they haven’t been able to make contact with,” he said.

Mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, grandparents and friends were missing.

Officers had gone to shelters, to homes that had burned to the ground, to cars where people had become trapped by flames as they tried to escape.

They made their way through hundreds of searches and reunited many. But there were still 110 reports remaining. And there were those who didn’t survive.

“Unfortunately, to date, we have recovered 23 bodies,” he said. “We are working with teams of coroners, investigators.”

Somewhere in the crowd, John was listening, clutching a stack of fliers with two photos. One of his grandparents at a wedding. One with his grandpa, smiling in his favorite hat.

In bold at the top the flier read: “3 MISSING FAMILY MEMBERS ALL FROM PARADISE”

The last line said: “Please contact his grandson John…"

More Camp Fire coverage:


Missing: A Man's Journey to Find His Grandparents After the Camp Fire Dianna M. Náñez, The Republic | azcentral.com

The search

John was working Thursday when he heard: Another California fire.

He stopped what he was doing. He listened. An evacuation had been ordered. People were trying to make it out of Paradise.

Paradise. No.

The scenic town of about 26,000 in the Sacramento Valley is about four hours from John’s home in Mi-Wuk Village, a scenic spot in California’s Gold Country east of Stockton

John calmed his frantic thoughts. He’d call his uncle and aunt. They also lived in Paradise and routinely checked in on his 96-year-old grandpa and his grandma, who didn’t like telling people her age. They would tell him not to worry. They would say: Everything is OK.

John had no idea what was about to happen. Soon the photos shot by trapped evacuees on their own cellphones would start flooding social media and news sites. People escaping in cars would post video of whole neighborhoods engulfed in a wall of flames.

The Camp Fire was the blaze everyone had always feared. It swallowed the canyon, moving through the North Central Sierra hills like a tsunami.

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Soon John would discover that no one knew where his uncle Greg Rader, his aunt Michelle Sherman, his grandma Anne Thomas Sherman or his grandpa Fay Hubert Sherman were.

Over and over in the days after the fire, it was the same. Hundreds of people posting on social media, flooding law-enforcement hotlines, searching shelters.

Everyone was looking for someone they loved. Then the stories started spreading: There were people who were hurt, trapped. There were people who didn’t make it out.

John had called shelters but found the system was broken. He couldn’t get some shelters to tell him if his loved ones were there. The policy was to ensure the safety of people who might have a protection order in place.

Time and again, he was told to check the website where people listed themselves safe. John grew weary explaining that the online system wouldn’t work for people like his grandparents, who didn’t use technology.

Then, late Thursday, John spotted a news story. His uncle was listed among evacuees taking refuge at a shelter in Oroville. But amid the chaos he couldn’t get through to him to ask the one question that mattered: Are grandma and grandpa OK?

A day passed. John could no longer handle the wait. He made fliers.

He would drive to Paradise Saturday morning. He’d search every shelter, reach out to anyone who would listen.

He’d find the people he loves. He wouldn’t let himself think the worst.

His grandpa was a WWII veteran. He’d survived war and had spent 96 years living independently. John had spent his own life thinking Grandpa Fay was the strongest, kindest man he knew.

It’s going to be OK. Everyone is OK. He repeated the words like a mantra.

John hopped in his truck, driving through forests, through cities to the first shelter. It was still dark when he left home.

It’s going to be OK. Everyone is OK.