As Park Fire rages on, anxieties run high for communities with memories of 2018 Camp Fire

After Ken Baker's home burned to the ground during the Camp Fire in 2018, he said he continued cleaning and fireproofing what remained of his property in Paradise, California. Since that fire, he moved to the Sierra Nevada foothills of Cohasset, determined to start anew and stay in the northern part of the state, home to generations of his family.

On the morning of July 24, Baker says he was getting ready to head back to Paradise for upkeep on the property when he received a notification on his phone about a new fire. This time, it was moving in the city of Chico. At that point, he said he wasn't worried, but he knew dry conditions were a concern.

He thought he had done everything right to protect his new home. He bought a bulldozer and, with more than 100 feet of clearance around the house, brought in $3,000 worth of gravel to prevent grass from burning.

As he watched the fire burn in the distance from his vantage point at work, he knew to call his sons. Baker told them, "Be ready in case I need you. We may have to evacuate."

A day later, they lost their home in Cohasset -- this time to the Park Fire, now the fifth largest wildfire in California's history.

Many in Paradise and surrounding communities told ABC News they were still on the road to recovery after the Camp Fire that began in November 2018. Now, Park Fire is triggering memories of the past, producing unease for those under evacuation warnings and families who lost their homes.

The Camp Fire ultimately killed 85 people and destroyed 11,000 homes. In total, the fire decimated more than 18,000 structures. Those included restaurants, dentist offices and other sites, once recognizable, that no longer exist.

Baker, who joined the National Guard and served in Iraq, said he thought he had seen it all. He became a sergeant major in the United States Army and after his service joined the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs to help others cope with post-traumatic stress. Yet the horror and destruction left in the wake of the Camp Fire changed his perspective.

"We will lean forward and we will succeed, but it's been soul-crushing," Baker said.

Baker's children helped him get out in time after the Park Fire broke out, he said. After the previous fire, the family had organized egg crates full of binders with important papers ready to go. Those were handy for this year's Park Fire as his family quickly gathered important documents – birth certificates, marriage law casings and other belongings -- in a travel trailer.

"I saw destruction on a scale that most people never see," Baker said describing his experiences in the military. "Paradise looked like that after the fire. Absolutely horrendous."

Baker said driving through Cohasset is not easy -- it's in a rural area near dirt roads that are not made to be passed.

There are other issues top of mind for Baker because of his firsthand experience with Camp Fire. Between incurring the cost of replacing a home, figuring out where to resettle, paying utility bills, and recalling every single item lost, it all took a toll on him. Now, he has to relive it.

Even so, he said he considers himself lucky. Both of his homes were insured, he said, but insurance rates have skyrocketed in recent years.

"We try to carry on as if nothing happened. But then when you're alone, or when you see something or you hear somebody else suffering, you know immediately what that feels like. And this is my community, these are my people. And they're hurting," Baker said.

Jason Ferguson's family lived in Chico, California, for decades, but he moved to Cohasset with his wife Tamara in 2008, he said.

"We're just so deeply rooted here. It'd be really hard to just up and go somewhere else," he told ABC News.

Tamara Ferguson, a preschool teacher, said the Park Fire moved fast once it broke out. One of her preschool student's parents first informed her of the fire in Upper Park behind the school.

She says she raced home. Jason answered a call from his mom, who asked if he had Watch Duty, a wildfire mapping and alert app. He didn't, but after downloading the app he realized they were "a zone away" from an evacuation warning.

Tamara said she only had about 30 minutes to pack up nearly everything in her life, particularly family heirlooms. Then, the Sheriff's Office sent a text blast urging people to evacuate immediately. The Fergusons lost their home.

The Park Fire has, as of Wednesday, has grown to over 389,000 acres, according to Cal Fire. The fire, about 18 percent contained, has destroyed hundreds of structures as it hits Butte and Tehama counties.

The man accused of starting the fire, Ronnie Dean Stout II, 42, of Chico, was charged with felony arson on Monday. Prosecutors say he was spotted pushing a burning car down a nearby gully before the fire broke out. He has not yet entered a plea.

The Ferguson family said their home was uninsured. Like some in the area, the family has had to lean on a GoFundMe page that has already raised more than $10,000. The couple say their next steps will be to apply for money through the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA).

Tamara Ferguson said her mother-in-law and sister-in-law lost their antique business in the Camp Fire. While her home was spared back then, she said she can "remember the day it happened like yesterday."

Ellen Sannar-Welch, an educator in Chico, California, also recalls stories from Camp Fire. She spent the better part of her Friday calling the parents of her high school students to ask if they had shelter or needed anything. She said most of the time they just wanted someone who can listen.

She could only get ahold of two families, but she said she told them, "'I want you to know that I will be here in the long haul. I know that this is devastating. I know I'm your teacher – and maybe that's weird – but we're here, we're your community.'"

Back in 2018, Sannar-Welch said she didn't anticipate the magnitude of Camp Fire.

"That day, I felt exceptionally helpless. And I felt stunted. It was like having a nightmare and screaming and no one can hear you," Sannar-Welch said of the day Camp Fire started.

"Whenever there's a fire burning within 15, 20 miles of here, there becomes a sort of frenzy," she said. "There's this revving up of anxiety."

Sannar-Welch said she knows families that moved three and four times just so they could find a permanent place to live. But she said since 2018, communities are now better prepared and connected through social media, like the Butte County Incidents Facebook group.

"Does it change the general anxiety? To a degree. Loss is loss. Fire is so devastating," she said. "Everywhere you drive here - you can drive for 45 miles straight and you will see burn. You don't fathom it until you drive away from it."

For the Ferguson family, there is still great uncertainty ahead, but they plan on finding a permanent home in Chico.

"I just kind of want to get it behind me as quickly as possible and move on with our lives, you know, and PTSD? I don't know if I have that or will," Jason Ferguson said. "It's just the unknown's really hard."