Palisades Lost

This weekend was meant to be just another peaceful one in Pacific Palisades. Boy Scout Troop 223 had planned a weekend camping trip at Malibu Creek, and youth baseball tryouts were set to take place at the Field of Dreams at Palisades Recreation Center. Sunday morning would typically see locals browsing fresh produce and grass-fed meat at the farmer’s market near Sunset Boulevard, chatting with neighbors along the way.https://wordpress.com/

For as long as anyone could remember, Pacific Palisades had been a serene retreat in Los Angeles, with homes scattered along the winding roads that cut through canyons nestled between the Santa Monica Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. Those fortunate enough to live in this area were drawn to its slower pace of life, far from the hustle of the freeways, where they could immerse themselves in the vibrant sunsets over the ocean.

But now, those once-familiar neighborhoods are barely recognizable. A ferocious wildfire swept through one area after another, reducing homes to ashes, destroying cars, and upending lives.

“There’s nothing left,” said Darby Woods, a local real estate agent who lost her own home in the blaze. “It literally looks like something out of a war zone. It’s like what you see on TV from Ukraine. It’s just decimated.”

When the winds died down on Thursday and attention shifted to other parts of Los Angeles still battling flames, residents cautiously returned to Pacific Palisades to assess the damage to their homes—and to the lives they had built.

The acrid scent of smoke lingered in the Castellammare neighborhood, perched high on a bluff overlooking the ocean. A motorcyclist was distributing burritos to the hungry, while two others in vehicles delivered water to those in need. Firefighters continued to comb through smoldering lots in search of remaining embers.

A man, shovel in hand, trudged up a hill to his mother’s house, determined to collect her medications and family photos, and to turn off any gas or water valves that might still be on.

The unpredictability of the fire was evident everywhere.

Two doors down on Tranquillo Road, a house listed for $5.35 million had been reduced to a smoldering heap of rubble—only the real estate sign remained untouched. Nearby, the charred remains of trees stood outside another house, while across the street, a lemon tree with ripe fruit defiantly stood guard at a front door.

Among the residents walking the neighborhood offering help was Randy Stoklos, who grew up on Tranquillo. A former beach volleyball star, he had bought the house next to his parents’ place in 1989 for $630,000.

“There are beautiful places all over the world, but this is Shangri-La,” said Stoklos, 64, who stayed at his home when the fires hit, waking up at 4:30 a.m. Wednesday to fight off embers with a garden hose. “The air is clean, you don’t need AC, and the sunsets are amazing. Until recently, I never locked my door.”

Brendan Armm and his partner, Sunshine Armstrong, were trying to process everything. Armm, an acupuncturist, had parked his Tesla on the Pacific Coast Highway and walked up to join Armstrong in efforts to save their homes and others. They even rescued a neighbor’s puppy. But when Armm returned to his car, it had burned, along with a condominium he owned.

“We lost a condo and a car, but we saved a lot of homes and a puppy,” Armm said. “I think we’re doing okay.”

For residents here, the idea of a disaster like this was not entirely unexpected. The 2018 Woolsey fire in Malibu had served as a warning, as did California’s ongoing drought.

Yet, the reality hit hard.

“This is a wealthy town,” Armm said. “The assumption is that it won’t happen here. Then I hear from my partner that my house is on fire. There’s going to be a reckoning because of this shared trauma. People’s values are going to change. How important are those expensive shoes or that watch when it’s all gone like this? The community will change.”

At that moment, a vehicle arrived, and Los Angeles Police Chief Jim McDonnell stepped out to offer his condolences. He and his officers had been touring the area. Though they had seen the destruction on television, now they could feel it firsthand.

“You can’t explain this to someone unless they see it,” McDonnell said, staring out at the breathtaking ocean view—one only visible because a house that had been there just days before was now gone.

There are two ways into Castellammare—one from Sunset Boulevard to the east and the other from Pacific Coast Highway to the west. When the evacuation order came on Tuesday morning, 77-year-old Ted Radin left his home, which he had bought in 1977, and made his way down to the highway. He crossed the pedestrian bridge to the beach and spent hours watching the fire.

He saw embers land on a house and watched as the flames spread, methodically devouring one home after another. As the sun set, Radin, a retired actuary who doesn’t use email and still carries a flip phone, made a decision: he would return to try to save his home.

So he crossed the pedestrian bridge again, climbed back up the hill, and armed with a garden hose, set about dousing embers on his neighbor’s house and extinguishing a spark on a palm tree in his own yard. Firefighters arrived around 10 p.m.

“I believe my being here made a difference,” Radin said.

On Thursday morning, he learned that electricity and gas would not be restored anytime soon, so he braced himself for cold showers. Sitting on the front steps of his home in a gray T-shirt and sweatpants, he reflected on the fact that he had saved the house he had lived in for decades.