Randall Miod was a local icon in one of America’s most iconic towns.
Though he grew up in the suburbs of the San Fernando Valley, Miod always dreamed of moving to Malibu, the world-famous beach community known for its surf culture, celebrities and coveted oceanfront properties.
An only child, Miod grew up skateboarding with his friends in empty swimming pools in and around Chatsworth. When he wasn’t skateboarding, you could find him surfing, often ditching class to ride the beach bus down to places like Zuma Beach.
It wasn’t long before he relocated to a small studio apartment along the Pacific Coast Highway, which was attached to a rustic Malibu home — known around town as the Crab Shack — that he would eventually purchase. And it’s where he would eventually die in the fast-moving Palisades fire after dodging other natural disasters for years.
For decades, the 55-year-old transplant known to his friends and family as Randy or Crawdaddy embodied the vibrant spirit of the eclectic community.
“I think Randy was easily one of the most recognizable people in the community,” said Chris Ariola, 56, a real estate agent who lived across from Miod for about 20 years. “He was one of the ringleaders, you know; I mean, he was friends with everybody.”
Miod’s mother, Carol Smith, said the Crab Shack was very special to her son. Miod had lived in the rental studio for 13 years, but jumped at the chance to buy the main house when it was offered to him at a ridiculously low price.
After moving into the main house, he rented out the studio. He picked up side jobs, including professional photography, to help cover the house payments. He shot weddings and some events and even flew up to Canada at the request of his friend, actress Pamela Anderson.
Having worked in restaurants across town for most of his life, Miod was a familiar face to many. His standout personality was paired with an equally memorable home — the rustic Crab Shack. Described as friendly, fun and charismatic, he knew how to approach people — from celebrities to ordinary folks — and grab their attention.
“I don’t think he ever realized the impression he made on other people. He was just being himself,” Smith said.
Ariola, a longtime friend, first met Miod when he worked at Pier View, a popular restaurant in Malibu. Then, in 1993, the two became neighbors and good friends after Ariola moved into a beachside property across the street from Miod. The two often skated, rode mountain bikes and surfed together.
They also went through their fair share of natural disasters, at least eight or 10.
Ariola recalled the Old Topanga fire of 1993, an 18,500-acre blaze that killed three people and destroyed hundreds of homes. He watched as the fire blew straight down the highway toward Miod’s home, which somehow survived. A few years later, fate spared his home again after a rock slide just below Las Flores Canyon blocked off PCH for six months and both their homes were red-tagged.
“That’s kind of the energy of that town. You have wintertime, storms and rock slides, and you always have a fire season,” Ariola said.
To the dismay of local law enforcement, the two refused to leave during those six months. With everyone gone from Las Flores Canyon to Topanga, the duo often went back and forth between each other’s homes. Ariola said he understood why Miod stayed behind in the face of the Palisades fire.
The Crab Shack was part of his identity.
“He had so many friends that came and went at any hour of the day or night. He had an open-door policy, and as long as they wouldn’t let his cat out, they could come,” said his mother.
Malibu tour guide Gavin Koppel, 52, who reconnected with Miod decades after they skated together as teens, described the Crab Shack as a “slow, progressive party” that went on nonstop for 25 years. You would drink a beer, smoke some weed, and bang on drums. It was an innocent, juvenile type of fun, Koppel said.
The Topanga resident had urged Miod to sell his roughly $2.5 million property after a car-size boulder “almost took him out” when it rolled down the hill and landed next to his house. Miod refused.
“He never wanted to leave that plot. His whole existence as Crawdaddy in the Crab Shack meant more than millions of dollars to him. He would have rather been broke and just stayed there, and that’s what he did,” Koppel said.
It was midafternoon on Jan. 7 when Miod told his mother he could see the smoke from the Palisades fire that had erupted earlier that morning. His voice sounded like he was on the verge of tears. She urged him not to make her worry — grab your cat and go to a shelter, she told him. He refused.
“Pray for the Palisades and pray for Malibu. I love you,” Miod told his mother. It was the last time they would speak.
Over the next two days, Smith made multiple attempts to reach her son by text, but never received a reply. On Jan. 9, she learned that authorities had found human remains behind his home during a welfare check.
Detectives believe Miod had tried to save his home until the smoke and heat from the fire overwhelmed him. Having lived through so many fires during his 30 years in Malibu, Miod likely thought he could come out unscathed, Smith theorized. Unfortunately, the 23,713-acre fire was unlike all the others. His pet cat, a red tabby, also died in the fire.
Following his death, Smith said she has been overwhelmed by the outpouring of support and love for her son. She can see the impact he had left on those around him.
“I knew Randy was a popular guy, but this is beyond popular. This is legendary, almost iconic,” Smith said. “He had friends tell me that they might be writing songs about him; they may even make a movie about him. It’s taken a life of its own.”