Family accepts reality of home destroyed by fire
Grim truth replaces unknown, hope that house had survived
By M.E. Sprengelmeyer
Denver Rocky Mountain News Staff Writer

SWITZERLAND VILLAGE — Margie Knodel found hope in a piece of flowered Corningware, a dish that survived amid the ashen rubble of her home.
    The house she and her husband, Lloyd, have lived in 8 1/2 years burned to the ground Monday, but she took some comfort when she found several wooden birdhouses, still populated by her beloved bluebirds.
    "I feel more at ease now than I did before we went," Margie Knodel said, relaxing on a sofa at a Red Cross shelter after finally getting a chance to go home. "It was better for me to see it. Now I know what I'm dealing with. I'm dealing with a pile of rubble."
    Friday was an emotional day for many residents around the Hi Meadow Fire. In sport utility vehicles and vans, authorities took anxious family members who were ready to see what's left of their charred lives.
    The couple's son, Steve Knodel, compared it to a funeral visitation, saying it was a crucial step before healing can begin.
    Five family members stepped out of a tour vehicle and circled the square of molten metal and ash, shouting out when they found something recognizable. Lloyd Knodel stood over a melted Fiberglas hot tub that spilled its water down a hillside, creating a track of untouched ground.
    "I should have had it on the upside of the house, so it would have washed out the fire," he said.
    In the middle of the wreckage was a piece of flowered Corningware, surrounded by the destroyed stoves, refrigerators and twisted metal that was all that remained of their two-story home.
    Margie Knodel came across one of the wooden birdhouses that survived.
    "I wonder what happened to Mrs. Wren?" asked Lloyd Knodel.
    "I wonder if she got her babies out?" his wife responded.
    The fire destroyed the house and a nearby shed, but the family pulled out a charred tricycle that had belonged to Lloyd, 63, when he was a tyke.
    An old pickup truck that the couple's grandson, Ronald Sieh, had been refurbishing was left on the driveway, its windshield melted over the dashboard.
    Margie picked up a rock that was covered with moss and said she'd take it to her dad's garden.
    "It's going to be his Father's Day present," she said. Otherwise, the family has little else left.
    A surreal scene surrounded the home. One neighbor's house was burned and still smoldering, but others within earshot were untouched.
    "I don't begrudge those people at all. I'm happy for them," Margie Knodel said. "But it's hard. How does this work?"
    As Lloyd Knodel talked about what happened, and whether the house could have been saved, his wife told him to let it go and move on.
    "It happened. We're the chosen ones," she said.
    She said she's just glad he grabbed a few things, including a family guitar and accordion, before he got out to safety.
    "You would have been burnt toast," she joked. "And I hate burnt toast."
    Over the past two days there have been rumors that at least one of the houses on the list of destroyed homes turned out to be fine, which put people like Margie Knodel on an emotional roller coaster of hope and depression.
    Finally, seeing the house was painful for the family, but Margie Knodel said it was critical for her.
    "I don't know why, I just felt I needed to see it," she said. "I guess devastation isn't real in your mind, or you can't accept it until you actually see it."
    Before the family left the home, they tacked a poem to a post at the edge of the driveway. The poem, which Margie wrote, said, "Look if you must but please don't molest. Our sacred treasures and memories are here laid to rest."