There was something about Courtney Drive that made Nancy Grose promptly end her home search two years ago.

The mother of two knew about the excellent schools and pristine parks — but those weren’t unique on the west side of Colorado Springs. In her price range, she and her husband, Richard, could have had a newer home than the ones built on the street in the late ’80s and early ’90s. They could have opted for a house that was bigger than the average 2,400-square-foot Courtney Drive home. While those things might have been tempting, Nancy Grose just had a feeling about the place that she couldn’t explain.

Maybe it was the gaggle of boys who played a seemingly never-ending game of football in the middle of the street. Or she could have come across Aubrey West, a retired history teacher who kept a cache of dog treats for pooches that passed his way. It might have been the evenings, where she could see the lights of Colorado Springs spread out below.

Though her husband tried to talk her into a bigger and more expensive house, Grose wasn’t budging.

“This was home,” she said. “I just felt it.”

Once they moved into the house on the corner lot of Courtney Drive and Rossmere Street, life, as expected, was good. The football games continued in the streets. The neighbors welcomed them and became friends, even having an annual block party.

Then, while the family was on vacation June 26, the Waldo Canyon fire crested the ridge behind Courtney Drive. Their street was ablaze, and they were helpless to do anything to save their house. A neighbor two doors away evacuated late and watched as homes caught fire. A photo taken that night showed a church just to the south silhouetted by the burning homes on Courtney Drive.

During the next few days, the couple scanned aerial photos to see if their house was damaged. Out of the 32 houses on the block, just four survived. Theirs was one of them.

They were overjoyed, guilty and dreading the future all at the same moment. The street they cherished wasn’t going to be the same.

While their neighbors sifted through rubble looking for anything salvageable, the Grouses felt bad worrying about the smoke smell or the charred spot on the south side of the house. When they moved back in a couple of weeks after the fire, they found themselves alone, living on a street that looked like a war zone. The silence was unnatural.

The cityscape Nancy Grose loved became more prominent, but almost scary, with the neighbors’ housesmissing.

“It’s a dark spot and then Colorado Springs,” she said. “It’s eerie to see when you know what should be there.”

Courtney Drive is just one of dozens of streets devastated by the Waldo Canyon fire. The story of this street, and the people who live there, is one of hundreds after the fire in Mountain Shadows.

The market value of homes that burned on Courtney Drive was almost $5 million, according to a Gazette analysis of figures from the El Paso County Assessor’s Office. But that figure is probably low. The assessor’s office listed the average market value of homes on the street at about $188,000; during the past five years, homes on Courtney Drive sold for an average of almost $303,000, according to assessor records.

Neighbors there say that their houses were worth more than the market value. They were the places where they raised their children, kept their keepsakes and felt a community. That neighborhood spirit was prominent on Courtney Drive after the fire.

In one driveway, someone built a heart constructed of charred bricks from a house. Brian and Kathy Fox’s family had a sign proclaiming their love for their street and promising to rebuild. Jonni and Beau McCoy’s family spray painted their driveway in bright pink letters “The McCoys will be back.”

Neighbors on Courtney made a pact to keep in touch and meet once a month until they are together again.

But after the initial move of solidarity, some tough choices had to be made.

Aubrey and Susan West were the first people to move onto the block when they bought their house in 1987. Aubrey West likes to say that he’s on the “second round of diapers to diplomas” as he has seen generations of kids move up and out. Through the years, he has become one of the more popular figures on the street. He smokes outside and keeps a stash of dog treats with him. Over time, he learned the name of almost every dog in the area.

“I always said if they got me out of this house, it would be in a body bag,” he said.

Then came the fire. Everything the couple had built there over 25 years burned to the ground. West’s prized collection of antique guns was ruined. The couple decided not to rebuild.

“We’re one of the more vintage couples of the block,” West said. “Now it’s time for us to move on.”

He’s in talks to sell the land to a next-door neighbor who hopes to build a bigger house than the one lost. The Wests are shopping for another house, still on the west side, probably smaller.

“It’s not like we’ve got a lot of stuff,” he joked.

For Julian and Sandy Rivera, the decision to stay or leave has been tough. At the moment, they’re leaning toward rebuilding.

“But my first thought was, ‘No way, we can’t go back,’ ” Sandy Rivera said.

Her gut reaction was to put everything behind them, move on and make a new life. After haggling with the insurance company and talking to builders, though, they realized it would be easier and more affordable to rebuild.

“It’s a tough decision,” she said. “I never thought I would have to go through this.”

She loved her street, and the decision has been agonizing, especially after seeing her neighbors again.

On July 27, Courtney Drive residents had their first “block party” since the fire. About 50 people met at Mountain Shadows Park to laugh, reminisce and see friends. The atmosphere was jovial, the adults laughed and the boys reunited for another game of football.

Someone asked the neighbors to sign up to host the newly planned monthly get-togethers.

“That’ll be tough considering I don’t have a house,” a heckle came from the crowd, followed by laughter. They decided to host the parties at their rental homes.

Back on Courtney Drive, the haunting silence in the days after the fire has been replaced by construction noise. As of Thursday, nine homes on the street had applied for demolition permits through the Pikes Peak Regional Building Department. The ash, rubble and twisted metal is quickly being replaced by level dirt creating a blank slate for new homes.

When an excavator was at Jonni McCoy’s house, she begged to jump on the truck and help dig out her foundation.

“It was the best therapy,” she said of using the equipment, laughing at herself. “It was the first step forward.”

Nancy and Richard Grose welcome the noise.

“It means something is going on,” Nancy Grose said. They are happy to let their neighbors stop by to use the bathroom and keep a stash of cool drinks in the fridge for anyone who needs one.

They see next-door neighbor Dana Johnson often. His vegetable garden was all that survived, and he comes each day to water it. He uses a hose that his neighbors happily provide, grateful they can help.

Johnson usually comes in the afternoon, the sun beating down, his back to the gray-black rubble of his house as he sprays a stream of water over the green plants.

The tomatoes are almost ready to be harvested.

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Contact Maria St. Louis-Sanchez: 636-0274

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