In 2021, three enormous wildfires raged near Lake Tahoe. The Tamarack Fire surrounded and nearly destroyed Markleeville, the county seat of Alpine County; the Caldor Fire traveled from the foothills over the crest of the Sierra all the way to the outskirts of South Lake Tahoe; and the Dixie Fire, about 75 miles north of Truckee, was the largest single-source fire in California history, burned for over three months, and consumed nearly a million acres.

On Aug. 4 of that year, the Dixie Fire roared through the small town of Greenville in Plumas County, wiping out over 75% of the structures in the town, including almost all of the downtown commercial area of this charming, nearly 150-year-old city. Now, four years later, the much smaller population of the town is doing its best against tough odds to recover. What the people of Greenville are going through, like the town of Paradise before them, is a stark lesson for any of us living in the fire-prone Sierra Nevada.

Heading north on Highway 89 from Truckee you first pass through healthy forests of live pines and firs, but just a bit past Quincy you begin to see mile after mile of burned forest: the catastrophic impact of the Dixie Fire. Particularly jarring is the area around Lake Almanor and the eastern side of Lassen Volcanic National Park, which is now a seemingly endless stretch of incinerated trees. Near the southern edge of Dixie’s devastation lies the town of Greenville.

Not long ago, I rode my bike into Greenville through Indian Valley from the nearby community of Taylorsville. Indian Valley is a lush and lovely valley of ranches with scattered homes tucked into the forest at the meadows’ edge. My idyllic ride dotted with cows in pastures came to an abrupt end when reaching the charred remains of Greenville. Green trees were replaced by stark, black trunks, and houses were just bare foundations awaiting an unknown future. While there are new homes under construction, most parcels look forlorn and empty; it is hard to even imagine that a home once stood on these empty lots.

The paltry remains of several once prominent brick commercial buildings can be seen along the main street, but in a sign of hope, the first major new commercial building — the revival of a popular bar that was destroyed — is in the process of being brought back.

Near this new building, an interesting little commercial enclave sprouted up soon after the fire, where the heart of the downtown once stood. Simply called The Spot, it features some of the first businesses to rise from the ashes in a pop-up format of trailers and tall metal awnings. Businesses include the Region Burger, The Way Baby bar and restaurant, and the Valley Grind, a coffee place. A tourist information booth was added to the mix.

Christi Hazelton is the owner, chef, and master of almost everything else for Region Burger. She is a hard-working woman with a mission to save this town that she loves, even though she realizes the odds are stacked against her.

“We are in survival mode, everybody is trying to work to come back,” said Hazelton. Greenville’s problem is that it was a fairly small town with many older, long-term residents. When  everything they depended on including hospitals, stores, and a pharmacy was wiped out, they decided to move somewhere else.

“People lost generations worth of their things. When they came back to the rubble, there were a lot of tears and they were brokenhearted,” said Hazelton.

The population of Greenville is now about 200 as opposed to about 1,000 before the fire. Hazelton estimates that about 35 to 45 homes have been rebuilt, but a lot of foundations still sit fallow. The first year after the fire, the businesses and community received a lot of support, she said, but “by the third year, they don’t acknowledge the PTSD and trauma anymore. We are now in year four and people think we should move along now, time to get your business going. It doesn’t work that way. People are hurting still. We hope that the town comes back enough that we can stay. We want to make it work. We don’t want to be anywhere else.”

While Hazelton is realistic about the challenges the community faces, she is also quick to state why she wants to stay, describing Indian Valley as “a gorgeous valley, a mecca for birdwatching. There is tons of hiking, the fishing is still amazing, we have swimming holes everywhere.”

I was lucky enough while camping in Taylorsville at the county park, which doubles as the rodeo grounds and boasts pickleball courts, to experience the lure of the valley firsthand. Warm afternoons were spent languishing in the water holes and local teenagers rode their horses past the campground and nearby, at the rodeo grounds, more equestrians were training for the junior rodeo set for the following weekend (I also learned that even while on horseback, a teenager has to always be looking at their phone).

What’s next?

The sign of a recovering town is when brick and mortar businesses are rebuilt, showing a true long-term commitment to the town’s future. So far “everyone is still waiting to see what happens,” Hazelton said. “A lot of businesses are gone. There is a gas station being run out of a shipping container.”

One couple is making a big investment of money and faith by rebuilding The Way Station, the aforementioned well-liked bar that burned down, as a restaurant and bar with the few remaining bits of brick walls still standing from the prior building being incorporated into the design.   

Kevin Goss and his partner Kira Wattenburg King bought the remains of the building after the fire. “Kira has wanted to own a bar and restaurant for quite a while, maybe 20 years. Both of our passions came together as we both love to cook and entertain,” said Goss, who also owned the pharmacy across the street, which is now a vacant lot. King and Goss met as the community came together to recover from the fire. He said that if any good came from the disaster, it’s that “it brought us together.”

While waiting for the Way Station construction to be completed in 2026, “We bought a food truck and bar at The Spot, and called it the Way Baby. It’s a ‘get-by’ kinda business, until we get the real one completed; a labor of love,” Goss said.

The period right after the fire was the most challenging time, according to Goss. Not only did he lose his business, but he is also a Plumas County Supervisor and had his hands full trying to provide help to a community in crisis. Local government had to get basic services up and running like water, sewer, and schools.

“We lost our library, town hall, and the sheriff’s station and are working to rebuild those,” Goss said. Housing was also a critical topic.

“[We recognized] our affordable housing shortage was substantial pre-fire and worse post fire,” Goss explained. In quick fashion, the county passed a regulation allowing people to live in campers or RVs full time until they’re able to rebuild their homes, and it also approved one of the first accessory dwelling unit ordinances in the state. It allows for quick and inexpensive approval of ADUs through the use of pre-approved plans.

Looking forward longer term, Goss said they hope to attract a younger population to the town that can work remotely while enjoying a slower, rural lifestyle. Exactly how that will happen is yet to be seen.

Help on the way

At the time of the Dixie Fire, Carol Franchetti, proprietor of Carol’s Prattville Café, was planning a 50th anniversary party for her iconic restaurant on Lake Almanor, 17 miles north of Greenville. Instead, she quickly evacuated to her sister’s in Napa for a month. “It was a disastrous thing, it happened so fast. I didn’t know if the restaurant would be here when I got back,” Franchetti said.

Her grandson, the fire chief for Prattville, was on the fire truck for 51 straight days working to save her community, she recalled. ”Every morning I would text him and get a thumbs up emoji. So many firefighters [were] doing all they could to keep the fire away from us.”

While her business and the town of Prattville escaped the fire (although thousands of acres all around them were scorched), she turned the anniversary party into a fundraiser to help the businesses in Greenville get back on their feet. “We raised $35,000. We had volunteer cooks, music, and an auction,” Franchetti said.

Now in it’s 54th year, her café is still bringing in the crowds for her Sunday fried chicken specials. Franchetti says “a couple things have to happen to get people back. We have to have affordable housing. If people can move here, there are jobs. My main labor pool came from Greenville. We need more young people. We need something for them to do and someplace to live.”

She feels for the businesses and community of Greenville, and added, “They are struggling, they have given their heart and soul to the town. The future could be bright. We just have to wait and see. There are a lot of people who care about this place.”