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Ben Jones, left, and his brother David sift through the debris of their parents' home on Creekside Place on Tuesday. Sherry and Dan Jones had lived there for 32 years. "Almost everything from our past has been destroyed," said Sherry Jones. The 49 fire, which destroyed 63 houses and three businesses when it mowed through the area Sunday, was 100 percent contained Tuesday night. As Cal Fire personnel scrubbed sticky, rust-colored fire retardant from sidewalks, roofs and a neighborhood park on Tuesday, residents of Auburn's scorched and devastated North Park neighborhood returned to the rubble of their homes, determined to sift through the ashes and rebuild their lives here. The fire was 100 percent contained by 6 p.m. Tuesday, Department of Forestry and Fire Protection officials said, although it flared briefly earlier in the day at the site of a home demolished by the blaze. To assist the victims of the 49 fire, which destroyed 63 houses and three businesses when it raced through the area Sunday, Placer County officials opened a one-stop resource center at the DeWitt Government Center at 11517 F Ave. in Auburn. On Creekside Place, Sherry Jones, 58, sorted through what was left of the home where she spent 32 years and raised five children and emerged with her "mother's ring" ? a ring with a stone representing each of her children. It was singed and dirty, but it was intact. "Almost everything from our past has been destroyed," she said. "We believe that in the eternal picture, things don't matter, but it's sort of like grieving a death." Yet like many families in the neighborhood, she and her husband, Dan Jones, 61, say they want to rebuild. "This is home," she said. For now, however, home is a goal, not a place. Pacific Gas and Electric crews continued working on power and gas lines in the neighborhood during the day, and a Red Cross van circled, with an announcer calling out to the neighbors to get food, diapers and other supplies. A positive vibe permeated a meeting at the county's Community Development Resource Center on Tuesday night as fire victims shared hugs and the feeling that they'd come through something together. Paul and Annie Francia were among the first to arrive, still shaken after sifting through the remains of the Creekside Place home they and their two small children escaped as nearby houses were enveloped in what their 3-year-old daughter now describes as the "big orange flame." Seated near the front of the packed room with neighbors from the tightknit cul-de-sac, the Francias said they came to learn about the fire and "to see what's offered." They plan to rebuild, said Paul Francia, 36. Placer County officials don't yet know how many people have been left homeless by the fire, nor has a dollar loss been determined, said county spokeswoman Anita Yoder. "People are in shock," said Al Lee, a volunteer manning the Red Cross booth at the assistance center. "We need to give them time to get through that. Then they think, 'What do I do next?' "A little bit of panic can set in. People come in distraught, but when we help them, they're relieved. They have the next step laid out in front of them." While most homeowners' insurance policies cover the cost of temporary shelter, renters can turn to the Red Cross for help with their security deposit and first month's rent, Lee said. In psychological terms, the first step for victims involves dealing with what Placer County's mental health director, Maureen Bauman, calls a huge range of emotions ? grief and sadness, anxiety for family and friends, anger and fear. And in bricks-and-mortar terms, said Placer County's chief building officer, Bob Martino, the first step means that homeowners need to obtain demolition permits. The county is waiving the $120 demo permit fee for fire victims, he said, and will expedite the review of their rebuilding plans. "We don't want to get them into a mound of red tape that adds insult to injury," he said. As David Mays shoveled Tuesday afternoon through his home's ashes on Southpark Place, he pointed to a metal shell that was a new refrigerator bought for a recent remodel. "It only takes a second to go from new to unusable," said Mays, 54, who wants to rebuild. "The insurance company, they're on it," he said. "They told me they'd get several contractors to bid on demolition and rebuilding." Insurance companies set up booths at the entrance to the devastated neighborhood ? and in the early hours of the fire, insurance representatives at emergency shelters could call up satellite images of the neighborhood to help people figure out whether their homes were burning. But some of Mays' neighbors were renters without insurance. James Johnson, 21, and his girlfriend April Downs, 18, lived in a rented house on Southpark Place with their 5-month-old daughter, Braelynn; April's uncle, Louis McCory; and a friend, Dominic Estalio. While Johnson worked on Sunday, Downs, Estalio and McCory fled the fire with the baby. They took the baby's car seat, some diapers ? and nothing else. A small amount of jewelry, a few backyard chairs and a barbecue pit were their only surviving artifacts. "We had no insurance, so we can't even get any of it back," Downs said.