The Spray General Store’s weekly craft circle typically convenes to make things: hand-knit sweaters, oil paintings, chunky silver necklaces. But when the circle met in early August, just days after wildfire had driven most of Spray’s 140 souls to evacuate the tiny north-central Oregon town, all art projects were pushed aside. Instead, the women who gathered on a hot, smoky Friday morning hugged each other and filled the high-ceilinged store with laughter and small-town survival stories: Javascript is required for you to be able to read premium content.
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