Fires Raging in My City

But I am not there anymore.

I have been watching the devastating fires ripping through the Pacific Palisades and Pasadena, just like all of you. But I left Los Angeles a year ago, and now, I live about an hour and a half north. I live in a high-fire area, believe me. It’s a potential death trap, with just one road going in and going out. That’s why they’re always so worried about fires here, trimming the trees and clearing the brush ahead of big windstorms like the one we’re living through now.

Last night, I heard the winds gusting through the valley, so loud they shook the house. I put my dogs' leashes in an easy place to reach and my passport and keys in my purse, just in case. I could not sleep.

A fire burned down my sister’s house a while back. The fire also trapped about a dozen horses in a barn in a different part of town. It was horrific. Last night I saw footage of horses being let loose to fend for themselves because there was no way to rescue them.

It is like nothing we’ve seen before, that’s for sure, not in that part of town, not where the super-rich live. Sure, fires destroy Malibu quite often, but evacuating Brentwood and the Pacific Palisades has happened in my lifetime.

It did happen, as my friend told me last night, back in 1961, when Richard and Pat Nixon packed a suitcase and evacuated Brentwood. 200,000 homes were destroyed.

I don’t know what is more shocking to read, the homes destroyed or that the most expensive of them cost $100,000.

This is a fire country, like an earthquake country. We know that. We live with it like the Midwest lives with tornadoes. But that doesn’t make it any easier or less stressful to watch the flames rip through so many of these familiar places.

Back in the 1980s, my sisters and I would roll into the Reel Inn in our bikinis and flip-flops, our hair clotted with saltwater, our shoulders sunburned, and if we could scrape enough money together, we’d get their fish tacos.

The website still stands. The restaurant does not. It was burned last night.

It might be hard for many in this country to care about those who live in such privileged places, who are so rich that they can air-lift out of town like some of the celebrities were said to have done last night. Love it or hate it, California is my home. I grew up here. My mom lived in a shack on the Pacific Coast Highway before it was expensive land. Hard to believe that, I know.

I’ve driven up the coast of PCH so many times I could probably do it with my eyes closed. I was never rich. I almost always had to live over the hill, in the valley, and many of the places I’ve lived are now threatened by wildfire.

Despite the carnage, at least there are minimal casualties, at least right now. The city was caught off guard, without a doubt, especially in the Palisades as residents abandoned their cars on the only highway that brings people in and out. They had to be bulldozed out of the way because they did not leave their keys. It took 80s actor Steve Guttenberg to get on television to try to get the message out - don’t leave your cars in the middle of the road without the keys.

That alone shows me how unprepared everyone was for anything like this. It just goes to show you that even the people at the top of the food chain are vulnerable to natural disasters like this.

Last I checked, there was zero containment. No one knows how bad it will get or how long these beautiful places will burn. But I wanted you all to know, in case you were wondering, that, at least for now, I am in a safe place and can’t smell even a whiff of smoke.

To those reading this who are threatened, my thoughts are with you.