L.A. is on Fire

Start with the math:

No rain + foliage + Santa Ana winds = Conflagration.

Now apply that formula to a densely populated state and you have a whole new level of disaster for California. For almost anyplace but especially here. Especially now.

The etymology of the term Santa Ana wouldn’t surprise anyone who lives here. It’s derived from a Native American phrase for “devil winds” or Santañas - root word “Satan”.

I grew up with Santa Anas. Their arrival is a casual reference if you’re from the Golden State. Some places have cold spells, some have heat waves, we have Santa Anas. You’ll know they’re here because your skin feels like sandpaper, your eyes sting, your hair looks like you’re holding a static ball and your nose bleeds. It’s personal. Oh—and there may be a fire because those winds are going to blow twenty five, even thirty miles per hour and any spark will love that kind of ride into the brush where it can turn its little self into a brushfire. That spark might even get a couple of houses in the bargain.

Now give that little spark a serious ride, a monster roller coaster kind of ride—of not thirty miles an hour but ninety or ninety-seven—I’m talking Nolan Ryan fast pitch ride and now you’ve got fire that is flying through the air from one house to a row of houses to an entire community of homes. Places where thousands of people put their children to bed at night—where they keep the “stuff” they love most. Where they make their meals and pay their bills. Where they live.

The Los Angeles fires began six days ago and the last thing anybody cares about right now is their dry skin and fly-away hair. This time it’s about survival.

There are six fires burning in LA in this moment. Reports about each one tell the amount of acreage and the percent of containment. The hot facts. Right now we’re counting more than 40,000 acres total and containment ranging from a low thirteen percent to a high eighty-three percent. Over 10,000 homes are gone. The people whose homes had fireplaces might identify theirs by the remaining chimney. Others won’t have a clue which house was theirs. Over one-thousand schools are closed, three have burned down completely. The children’s art and the teacher’s pencils are ash.

More numbers: 14,000 personnel, seventy aircraft, 1600 fire engines, 2500 National Guard. And 950 prison inmates who will make $10.24 per day and get two days docked from their sentence for each twenty four hours they work.

A final number that isn’t final at all—so far there are twenty four dead.

Last night, the 60 Minutes lead story was about the fires. There was one cut-away shot of a sign for “Altadena Pet Hospital.” It was a dramatic shot with a huge fire plume behind it, all red and gold and black with the stark relief of a logo that had a cat and a dog curled up together.

My father built that hospital in 1963. He bought a well-zoned but unusable building and we worked out of it until permits could be secured for a new structure. Yes, I say “we” because I was his fifteen year old receptionist, kennel girl, surgical assistant for that short stretch. Finally, we watched the wrecking ball knock down the old and a bull dozer begin the new. Some months later, it was a sparkling three-vet hospital and my dad became the beloved neighborhood animal doc to the people of Altadena. People who lived in modest homes that have now burned to the ground. The image made my heart hurt. The reality made it hurt more.

Mr. Rogers told children, “When you get scared, look for the helpers” and a time like this shows us how many helpers there are. No profession prompts more affection than a firefighter and now all of ours are joined by crews from nine other states, Mexico and Canada.

Donation sites for clothes and home goods are exceeding capacity and workers there are asking for a brief respite while they sort the current offerings. World Central Kitchen deployed immediately to provide meals to firefighters. Nonprofits are racing to the rescue for every need—Baby2Baby is distributing diapers, the Humane Society is finding shelter for displaced animals, every food bank is gathering and organizing efforts for impending food shortages and countless others are readying enormous efforts that will provide triage and manage some of the emotional, physical and mental demands. It is going to be a very long assignment for each one of them.

So many helpers—so much empathy and goodwill.

Except.

A time that should bring out the best in all of us has become a hate-fest for a few. Are there people who simply don’t have better angels? Our President-elect has thrown fuel on this inferno with one falsehood after another and offers nothing in the way of emotional or physical support. On social media he posted: "They just can't put out the fires. What’s wrong with them?”

What is wrong with him?

A Congressman from South Carolina quips, “(California’s)…got to own it. It’s the fault of the governor.” Excuse me but that Hurricane Helene thing…? Did you need some help there?

Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson, has suggested that there needs to be certain conditions put on the aid to California. Johnson’s from Louisiana. As in New Orleans. As in Katrina. Did we balk when his city built below sea level was decimated? We did not.

They’re blaming leadership and policies, often with misinformation and distortion. There should and will be thorough reviews about how to better manage the new normal but that conversation has to start with honesty. And, at least right now, empathy.

This is going to be a long slog for everyone—the family who lost their home, the neighborhood that lost its parks, library and grocery store, the city that is looking at massive, wide-spread debris-clearance and rebuilding, the state that will have to find financial support and, finally, the nation and world that relies on Californians.

In his well-sourced newsletter, Robert Hubble illustrates the importance of California’s part in the big U.S. picture: 

The economy of LA County ($790 billion) is greater than the GDP of 39 of the states in the US. For a sense of scale, the economy of LA County is greater than the combined economies of Alaska, Maine, Vermont, Delaware, Rhode Island, West Virginia, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Wyoming ($710 billion).

Los Angeles is a very big place and this catastrophe is a very big deal for all of us, whether we have a personal connection or not. Besides that, thousands of people are in pain right now and that must move us all.

The forecast calls for more winds in LA beginning tomorrow morning.

This isn’t done.