Surviving Woolsey
“Oh no.” My friend, Jennifer crinkled her small freckled nose. We are flying down the 405 together, headed home after carpooling to a soothing yoga class. Traffic is flowing and it’s a beautiful California afternoon, in spite of the sun’s early fade due to daylight savings time. It’s 4:30 and the gold and orange hue of sunset is sweeping the landscape of the San Fernando Valley. “What?” “There’s a fire at Rocketdyne.” “Where’s Rocketdyne?” “Right by my Mom’s house.” This is a