"If the Resident Manager of the Hilton El Conquistador Golf and Tennis Resort, Steve Dennis, never does anything right in his life again, it won't matter, as he is so far ahead on the scoreboard of life.  Opening the doors of his inn for the Summerhaven evacuees is a wonderful thing.  Oh, that we could clone humans."
(Letter to the Editor)

Voices lifted in song, about 30 residents of Mount Lemmon gathered yesterday morning for a prayer service in the resort that has offered them a safe, free haven.

Skilled voices blended with shaky ones as they belted out "It Is Well With My Soul."

Being devastated by tragedy is different than allowing yourself to be destroyed in a life trusting in God, said the Rev. David Mann, director of evangelism and ministry for the Catalina Baptist Association in Tucson.

Mann stood in the Joshua Room of the Hilton El Conquistador Resort, which has put up at least 55 people from the fire. "Take comfort in the truth of God's word," he said. "Take it to the depth of your soul."

Lea Patterson, 56, who lost a home in the fire, agreed. "The Lord's going to take care of us," she said. "He'll take care of where we live."

Mann praised the men, women and children for reaching out for one another.

"I've seen you put your personal situation on hold as you've gone to ask others how they're doing," he said.

The "Aspen" fire began Tuesday and has burned about 50 homes and consumed 11,400 acres. The Sunday morning prayer service included several songs. Bibles were handed out, as well as song sheets.

Boxes of tissue lined the aisle. As they sang and listened, residents leaned over to hug one another. Many of them took the chance to thank Steve Dennis, the resident manager of the resort for his kindness.

It was Dennis who called the Red Cross on Tuesday to offer accommodations for the evacuees. On Sunday the residents told him he was the perfect witness for God.

"There is no greater honor that I can have than that,"  said Dennis, his voice breaking. He wife Debora-Linn and their three children were by his side. The evacuees shared a prayer request and included the firefighters and others who were helping to save their mountain.

It's not clear when the residents will be leaving the hotel, but they will either move to other temporary housing or back to their homes if they are still standing.

The Red Cross has had volunteers at the resort and is continuing to work closely with the residents each day, handing out vouchers for clothes and other necessities.

Mann told the group to try not to be overwhelmed by the decisions they'll be facing the next few days.

"When the hard times come, don't try to figure out the universe."

FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN: HILTON OPENS DOORS TO EVACUEES

By Patrick Cavanaugh & Nate Searing

As the fire on Mount Lemmon raged through the tiny mountaintop hamlets of Summerhaven and Loma Linda last week, the Northwest community below readily opened its arms and hearts to the displaced.

Nowhere was this more obvious than beneath Pusch Ridge in Oro Valley, where the ominous plume of smoke rising from beyond the front range of the Santa Catalina Mountains provided a constant reminder of the devastation at hand.

There, nestled safely beneath the growing conflagration, the Hilton Tucson El Conquistador Golf and Tennis Resort, 10000 N. Oracle Road, was transformed into compassion central for the dazed refugees from the mountain.

As the wildfire quickly grew to disaster proportion, the hotel would open its doors to the evacuees, the Red Cross and other disaster relief agencies, and the media scrum that descended on the Hilton for a story that quickly went national.

The elegant resort became host to a crisis. It filled 20 of its rooms with more than 50 residents displaced by the fire, providing food, shelter and shoulders to cry on free of charge.

The U.S Forest Service set up a team there to provide the folks from Mount Lemmon what they craved most - information about the path of the fire that was threatening their homes, belongings and the memories of living in the idyllic village that crowned the Santa Catalinas.

The Red Cross arrived, providing crisis counseling and badly needed supplies. Dollies loaded with kitty litter and pet food from the Humane Society rolled across the hotel's carpet to provide for the residents' pets. Out front, where the satellite trucks of the media filled the flower-lined driveway of the Hilton, officers from the Oro Valley Police Department came by periodically, offering their help in controlling the traffic.

"Where would we be without the Red Cross, the hotel?" asked Summerhaven resident Bonnie Raio June 19, the day she learned the fire had broken through the last line of defense at Marshall Gulch and had begun its unstoppable march toward her home.

For Steve Dennis, the Hilton's resident manager, it began two days before. He ate lunch as usual on the patio of his hotel's restaurant. While enjoying his meal, he looked up from the northeast-facing patio and saw the smoke curling above the peak.

Within a few hours, the news reports were everywhere: The Aspen Fire was threatening Summerhaven. The evacuation had begun.

"We did what anyone would do: Prayed, hoped that everyone was all right," Dennis said. "Then we made ourselves available, opened our arms."

From behind the front desk, Dennis retold the story two days later amid constant interruptions. It was June 19, the day that the residents would learn the winds had whipped up unexpectedly and the fire could not be stopped. The exhausted fire crews had been pulled off the last line at the gulch, and the hotel phone was busy with calls to and from crisis counselors and chaplains. Evacuees wandered in and out of the hotel. A desperate search was made for yet another box of tissues.

An air of sadness intersperced with moments of alarm dominated the lobby of the hotel. Without the uniforms or name tags, it was difficult to distinguish between the Hilton's staff and their unexpected guests. They all wore somber faces as the sound of crying and anguished cell phone conversations echoed from the hallways. The hastily packed backpacks scattered about were more prevalent than the luggage of the resort's seasonal guests.

The staff did their best to add a bit of cheer to the evacuees stay. All the facilities were open to them. Breakfast was provided in the Sundance Cafe, and lunch and dinner was shared with employees in the staff lounge - all free of charge. But the movies shown by the pool served only as a temporary salve to the residents, whose minds returned repeatedly to the top of the burning mountain.

Dennis instantly became more than a hotel manager. He was thrown unexpectedly into the role of crisis counselor, disaster relief coordinator and the focal point for the sadness that reigned.

"I'm a human being," Dennis said, his shoulder smeared with the make up of a Summerhaven resident. "And I'd be hard-pressed not to act like one in the face of such a horrible mess."

Tears had welled in his eyes when he first told the residents their homes lay in the path of destruction. They welled again that Thursday when he led the evacuees from their temporary sanctuary in a ballroom where they had just held a prayer service to the conference room next door.

The Forest Service's crisis management team was there, surrounded by the lights and cameras of the media. The residents from the mountain filed in, shooting worried glances at the map board and the television in the background that broadcast the surreal scenes of flames consuming their homes.

Dennis somberly introduced the members of the team, then quietly took his seat as the residents' worst fears were confirmed.

"At 1:40 p.m. today the winds rose to 40-miles-per hour and the crews were pulled back from the last line at Marshall Gulch," Jonetta Holt, a Forest Service fire information specialist told the evacuees. "Structures have been lost, and although we know you are desperate for information, we do not have a complete assessment yet ..."

The news seared through the room and the evacuees, some cuddling babies, others holding cherished pets, were left to absorb the news as best they could. A few of the neighbors bore stoic smiles, but many more simply sobbed.

As the news filtered in slowly in the course of the week, some would learn their homes were unscathed, while others would lose everything.

Immediately after the June 19 prayer service, Summerhaven resident Jesse Shaver circulated a single page of hotel stationary among the evacuees so they could sign their thanks to the Hilton, Red Cross and others who had helped them. The piece of paper was filled with hearts, crosses and effusive thanks to the people who had stepped up in a time of need.

"They have all just been wonderful to us. We're a really close community up there. Being here at the hotel gave us the chance to be together through this. We're very, very thankful," Shaver said.

An obviously exhausted Dennis, taking a break from the sadness amid the opulence Thursday, summed it up in simple fashion.