Gilberto Juarez saw the rush of chocolate-brown water coming at him, a 12-foot wave of mud, rock and car-sized boulders that ripped through Waterman Canyon, cleaving his family in half.
"I grabbed my 3-year-old and ran," said the San Bernardino construction worker. "I stopped and turned around to look for my wife and 6-year-old, but they were gone."
Juarez, his wife, Rosa, 40, and daughters, Katherine, 6, and Stephanie, 3, had been among 24 friends and relatives gathered for Christmas lunch Thursday at a creek-side campground in the San Bernardino Forest.
Juarez said he and his family arrived about 11 a.m. A light rain fell. The group -- many of whom came from the same southern Guatemalan town, Tiquisate -- ate tamales and talked as children ran around the nearby grassy playground. The celebration went smoothly until just before 2 p.m. "We had finished lunch and we were starting to clean up," said Juarez, 35. "Then it started to rain harder and suddenly everything started pouring down the mountains."
Juarez said he clambered up a slippery 800-foot rise with Stephanie in his arms. For a moment, he stumbled and feared he would slide backward. Struggling back to his feet, he kept climbing.
At the crest of the hill, he looked back. A heavy mist made it impossible to see behind him. He started forward again.
"We made it out to the road, where we met a police officer who picked us up and took us down the mountain," he said.
In the past, the 66-acre campground had provided a welcome respite for the Juarez family. Gilberto and his wife, a secretary in Riverside, were friends with the camp's caretaker, Jorge Monzon.
But as the hours passed on Friday, the campground came to seem bleak and menacing.
For much of the day, Juarez waited for word of his wife and older daughter. He milled around the command post, a blue tent at 40th Street and Waterman Avenue, eyes lifting each time helicopters landed nearby.
The wait became so unbearable that Juarez and a small group of friends tried to hike the four to five miles through Waterman Canyon to the camp site. But after about a mile, the mud and debris became too much. Dejected and bedraggled, they turned back.
As the afternoon wore on, Juarez appeared dazed and, at one point, retreated near the men's room, refusing to speak to anyone. Weeping, he clutched a cigarette in a shaky hand.
Nearby, a pastor led a group of about 50 survivors and their relatives in prayer intermittently throughout the day.
