A Pastor, a School Bus and a Trip Through a Scorched Oregon Town

For decades, the town has been an affordable haven from the nearby cities of Medford and Ashland, offering cheap housing, an idyllic Pacific Northwest setting and access to medical care and jobs minutes up the freeway. That mix has attracted retirees on fixed incomes and farm workers who pick the sweet Comice pears from nearby orchards that end up in Harry & David gift baskets shipped around the world.

The Almeda Fire disproportionately hit those residents, wiping out about a dozen tightly packed mobile-home parks. Local officials and residents said that many homeowners in those parks lacked insurance, in part because fire did not seem to be a threat; they could hear the freeway from their bedrooms. And none of them owned even a slice of land; they rented the small plots where their homes once sat.

With such a financial blow, many of those people will struggle to return, and some said last week that they did not want to. For local leaders, it raises the question: Can Phoenix ever fully recover? And if it does, will it have a place for the people who once called it home?

“When this starts getting cleaned up, big money will come here and invest, just like they did in Paradise,” Mr. Gregory said. “These towns won’t be back the way they were.”

Mr. Gregory steered the bus past the Harry & David headquarters and toward the police checkpoint that marked the start of the burn zone. He smiled and waved, and a police officer waved the bus through.

Quickly, the earth was black on both sides. The bus passed pile after pile of rubble, some still with signs telling of what was once there. There was D & S Harley-Davidson, a motorcycle shop; the Rogue Action Center, housing a nonprofit group working on climate change; and Umpqua Bank, where the only thing left standing was the vault. “It gets worse every time,” Mr. Warren said.