Four years ago this Labor Day weekend I heard multiple sirens drive down my road. My dogs were howling repeatedly as the next wave of sirens passed by, making the tension mount. Finally, after the fourth or fifth wave of deafening howls, I decided to drive down the street and discover what was going on.

I drove to the top of the hill where I could survey the surrounding 10 to 20 miles and saw a rather large fire maybe 6 miles away. I couldn’t tell whether a few houses were on fire or something else and did not want to get closer where I might impede fire fighters, so I left to inform my managers and children what was happening.

Feeling uneasy, about 20 minutes later I decided to do another reconnaissance drive. This time I found a significantly larger fire with winds flaring it in all directions. It did not appear to be under control but was still at least 5 miles away. As I drove home debating on the severity of my next steps, I decided to turn around and look at what was happening one more time. From my hilltop look out, joined by a dozen other concerned neighbors I saw what seemed impossible—the fire, which had now spread significantly, jumped what appeared to be close to a mile and ignited a tree within 500 feet of where we all stood.

I raced into my car and returned to my property to take swift action. I immediately ordered an evacuation of my canopy tour course and all 50 or so guests. As we got guests off the course I had to explain I would refund their money later, at this moment they just needed to get in their cars and drive away. Simultaneously, I was convincing my 14 and 17-year-old daughters to pack up themselves; our two German Shepherds, three cats, and one ferret into the elder’s two-door mustang. They were reluctant to drive away without me, but I finally convinced them to go to their brother’s house about 30 minutes away.

Once they and my employees were off the property, I attempted to load my four horses into a neighbor’s four-horse trailer; however, they were stopped by the sheriff and not allowed to enter my road, leaving my horses stranded as my truck that could tow my trailer was in the shop. I harnessed all four horses neighing and rearing as the fire was now in a pasture next to their field, and began walking them to our 5-acre organic farm where things were well watered and brush cleared back—hoping they could survive there. As I did so, my ex-husband and business partner arrived somehow passing sheriff lines and told me to take the horses back because he needed to move our bison, whose pasture was already on fire. He said he would move the horses once he got the bison secure.

I went to the house on the opposite side of our ranch and began to water down everything nearby hoping to save our home that we had built ourselves (literally) over six years. Since we were surrounded by forest I could not tell how close the fire was, although the sky was full of smoke and I could here loud bangs as trees exploded in the distance. Suddenly my water pressure went to a dribble and I knew we had lost electricity and my efforts at this point were futile. As I ran to my car to leave, the sky above me exploded with all shades of orange and I moved as fast as I could to ensure my children still had a mother.

I tried to call my partner, but he did not answer his phone. Since I did not know where on the ranch he was at this point I elected to just keep driving off the ranch and down the road. At the end of the road the sheriff quickly instructed me I could not head into Austin where my children were, as that 4-lane highway was closed so I headed west. About 5 miles down the road, I stopped for gas and water to drink only to realize I had left without my purse, wallet, or any belongings. I headed into the gas station exhausted and in shock hoping they would recognize me and let me come back later to pay them. Thank God they did.

It took me over two hours to drive around to a different highway that could take me into Austin and reunite with my children. I had one contact with their father where he told me he was not leaving and would fight the fire, before loosing contact with him completely until my son was able to hike in the next morning and find him still alive.

For the next week we spent our days hiking around sheriff lines to water and feed our bison and horses who had thankfully all survived, and continue to fight the fire as it erupted in new locations, just to save what remained. Thirty years of work was all invested in this property and business. We had no other stocks, bonds, or investments. All the millions we had made were contained on this land, most of which was smoking. We had a melted car 20 feet from a car intact, an exploded refrigerator in an outbuilding next to a propane tank that did not explode, and countless other bizarre sights. There was not a square inch that was not covered in ash or burnt and black. It looked like a nuclear holocaust.

As my 17-year-old daughter and I threw shovels of dirt on a burning fallen tree close to our house and carried buckets of water up from the creek to dowse it, she looked at me in fear and asked, “What is going to happen to us?” And I looked at her with compete sincerity and said, “I don’t know. But you don’t have to be afraid. Your dad and I are resourceful and we’ll think of something.”

Labor Day 2011 was truly a horrific day for us. Yet, it has reminded me that my strength is not in what I have, but in who I am. It has taught my children resilience and courage. But most importantly it has taught them, too, that the value we created could be burned but the ingenuity, creativity, and will that created it could not be harmed. And with those strengths new things can be built. So often we measure ourselves from our outer successes; but our real worth is in our inner world—and over that we have complete control.

Since Labor Day 2011 we have rebuilt our canopy tour, built four tree houses for overnight stays and I have started two new companies that are flourishing. Opportunities are endless; it is only our willingness to try that is limited.

Amy Beilharz

Amy Beilharz is co-owner of Cypress Valley Canopy Tours, Co-Founder and CEO of ArtisTree (tree house resorts) and CEO of Influential Women, Inc a company dedicated to empowering women across the globe. Influential Women, Inc. includes products like Amy’s most recent offering Be A Female Millionaire Wealth Development Program that helps women move their ideas into action and million dollar results. Using her own experience taking multiple companies from seed to success, Amy walks you through the steps to create a million dollar business and a life of thriving.