As the worst disaster in Los Angeles history continues to unfold — the Palisades and Eaton Fires now among the most destructive wildfires in California , ever — I physically watch from Seattle. But mentally and emotionally, I am at home among my fellow Angelenos.
Before moving to Seattle in 2022, I spent the majority of my 36 years in Los Angeles, including Pasadena. I never imagined a scenario as horrific as what is now taking place, with the near-total destruction of Pacific Palisades and Altadena.
Growing up in Granada Hills in the San Fernando Valley, fire season began with the unmistakable sight of Super Scoopers from Canada flying over Balboa Boulevard toward their staging area at Van Nuys Airport. The presence of these 1,600-gallon water-dropping guardians meant dangerous conditions were expected throughout the Southland. In particular: low relative humidity and Santa Ana winds.
For some years, our community, which abuts the Santa Susana Mountains, went unscathed. Then in 2008, the Sayre Fire (Sylmar Fire) forced my neighborhood and many others in the North Valley to evacuate. Years of persistent drought contributed to brush fires and wildfires breaking out in neighboring communities from Porter Ranch and Northridge to Chatsworth and Sylmar. Smoke and ash inevitably reached our home. Still, we remained safe and far enough from mandatory evacuation zones.
The Eaton and Palisades fires impacted many friends and family whose neighborhoods were left nearly unrecognizable. One family friend lost her home in Pacific Palisades. For many, including myself, among the rubble and charred landscape are memories of now-nonexistent places, and once-picturesque landscapes that define the sprawling metropolis.
Family outings to the Palisades after spending hours at Zuma Beach or Will Rogers State Beach meant stopping for ice cream at Häagen-Dazs in the Village. Their brick-and-mortar shop closed years before the fire, yet the Village today is nothing but smoldering relics. When relatives from the East Coast visited, never was there a moment when Pacific Coast Highway didn’t look like a postcard, spellbinding in its splendor.
While living in Pasadena as a budding freelancer, I strung together many stories and developed pitches while holed up at Cafe de Leche on Lake Avenue in Altadena. Their coffee complimented the view of, and proximity to, the Angeles National Forest. The bucolic atmosphere became a favored getaway much like hiking the Eaton Canyon trail to the campground at Henninger Flats. It is hard to believe that it is now a scorched landscape.
Wildfires, like earthquakes, are part of L.A.’s identity. Willingly or not, we accept this relationship with the forces of nature as part of the social contract of living in Southern California. In the region’s long history of natural and man-made disasters, this relationship has never been equitable. Today, as extreme weather events become more common, fire season is unequivocally a year-round problem.
Still, what gives me confidence in the future of Los Angeles is its optimism and resilience that characterizes Angelenos. Qualities that prevailed after past disasters like the Northridge earthquake and previous destructive wildfires from the last decade. They are the essential qualities needed now as rebuilding begins and a new identity emerges across the Southland.
Against this backdrop of scorched earth, unprecedented destruction, and human suffering, I am proud to be an Angeleno.
Brandon Black grew up in the San Fernando Valley and previously contributed to the Southern California News Group and other publications. He now lives in Seattle.