PIEDMONT - When tragedy strikes, accepting help is "humbling and hard," according to Doug Thomas and his wife, Pam Teaney-Thomas.

"It's overwhelming," he said. "I'd much rather give help than receive help."

The Thomas home was one of seven homes, and the only stick-built house, destroyed in the Eastridge Fire one year ago. A photo of their home engulfed in flames provided a stunning image of fire's power.

Pam Teaney-Thomas and the couple's son, Jordan, had about 15 minutes to race through the family home gathering important documents and mementos while making a futile search for the family's cat.

They literally escaped with the clothes on their backs, their dog and the items they hastily loaded into two vehicles.

In the fire's aftermath, the family had two choices: "Become bitter or better," Thomas said.

"We feel so blessed to be alive," he said. "You can always replace things."

Unlike some fires that destroy only portions of a home, the heat and intensity of the forest fire consumed everything in the Thomas home.

The Thomases had built the home themselves on 20 acres at the top of the ridge along Eastridge Road. They planned to spend the rest of their lives in the home.

"That made it so personal. I almost wish we hadn't, because we could have detached more," Thomas said.

"Your life can change in a split second - not with fire, but with anything," Teaney-Thomas said.

Each month since the fire has gotten better for the family, according to Teaney-Thomas.

After weighing the pros and cons of rebuilding on the property, they now have a builder working on a new, different house on the site.

They say the property was just too valuable to give up, even though it will take years for the land to heal. As the land slowly begins to heal, so does the family.

It has not been an easy recovery. A significant portion of their lives was lost when the fire consumed their home and possessions.

As you get older, you accumulate stuff and memories, Thomas explained. When you walk into your home, you are surrounded by familiar possessions that become a part of who you are, he said.

"A fire is like a death in the family," Thomas said.

Only it's your stuff that's dead and will never come back, he said.

"The memory stones are gone," Teaney-Thomas added.

In the first days after the fire, the family clung to the few familiar items they still possessed, choosing to rewash and repeatedly wear the clothes they were wearing the day of the fire.

"Every morning was an ordeal just to get dressed," Teaney-Thomas recalled. It was too hard to put on strange clothing when everything around them was unfamiliar. "It was easier to wear what we had."

Washing donated and new clothing in her favorite brand of laundry soap helped re-establish a sense of balance, Teaney-Thomas said.

Thomas was traveling the day of the fire. He at least had a shirt "A" and "B" to pick from, his wife remarked.

"We laugh now," she said.

"But, it wasn't funny then," her husband responded.

The family's restoration has been aided by a network of family and friends who immediately rallied around them.

"We have learned to appreciate our family more," Teaney-Thomas said.

A thoughtful friend brought Teaney-Thomas a supply of her hair products.

"At least you had a familiar smell because none of the clothing was familiar," Teaney-Thomas said.

Another friend initially offered to run errands but instead drove Teaney-Thomas from place to place, giving her time to concentrate on the tasks at hand.

Gifts of gift cards came in handy for restocking basic necessities and clothing, but Teaney-Thomas admits keeping track of the cards was difficult when she was so distracted. There were times when cash would have been easier, she said.

There were also days when the family was too flustered to even know how to respond to offers of assistance, the Thomases said.

It was easier to respond to offers of specific help - such as the use of a dog house - than to list what they needed done or were lacking.

Teaney-Thomas's mother's house has been a constant haven, available between the periods they rented or house-sat while waiting for their new home.

Assistance came from a friend who is a professional counselor. She spent time with the family going over the steps of grieving and loss.

Teaney-Thomas is a trained counselor, but those lessons were more effective coming from someone else, she said. And, she needed the reminder as well.

"It helped to understand the process we were going through, the stages and the anger," Teaney-Thomas said.

The counselor also prepared the family for the "dumb things" people would likely say and warned them about "ambulance chasers" who wanted to learn more about their misery.

The Thomases did give media interviews after the fire. In the long run, that helped cut down on phone calls and simplified encounters with friends and acquaintances, because they were familiar with their story, Teaney-Thomas said.

Friends around the world contacted the family after their story appeared in the Rapid City Journal and other media, she said.

The Thomases eventually met some of the other families displaced by the fire at a benefit, but Teaney-Thomas would have liked more contact with them to share a little grief and some ideas for coping with their new lives.

For the Thomases, the grief is starting to recede. Every three months has brought a turning point, although there are still occasional setbacks and that occasional "darn" when they realize something is lost forever.

"It takes a long time to heal," Thomas said.