The Day L.A. Burned

"Last January 7th, over breakfast, I cautioned my children about the wind and told them-for the first time-about an emergency meeting spot I'd designated, outside the neighborhood, in case our local one, the firehouse, became unsafe. (The repeated Red Flag Warnings had finally gotten to me.) When their frantic calls started coming in a few hours later, informing me that the Palisades was on fire-they could see the smoke from school-I told them to stay put. They'd never go home again."

"Those mountains loomed behind the town, obscured by tiers of houses, some of which had been there for a century. Then the wind shifted, and the homes were gone. A year later, there are four hundred and seventeen houses in framing in the Palisades-wooden framing, replacement being the efficient option for financially strained people battling insurance companies and desperate to go home."

Strong winds and repeated Red Flag Warnings preceded wildfires that flattened Pacific Palisades, nearly erased Altadena, and scarred Los Angeles. Children were warned and an external emergency meeting spot designated; frantic calls later confirmed smoke and fire, forcing residents to stay away from homes that would never be reclaimed. Photographs later showed the fire leaping east across mountain ranges and destroying century-old houses when winds shifted. One year later, 417 houses are in wooden framing as financially strained homeowners rebuild amid battles with insurers. Cleared lots sprout invasive mustard after heavy rains; green mountains and unexpected ocean views contrast ongoing displacement and unresolved safety concerns.

Read at The New Yorker