Los Angeles fires: “Everything is gone”

Professional chef Daron Anderson always tells people he was “born in the kitchen” – literally.

The 45-year-old gave birth via home birth at 295 West Las Flores Drive, where she lived with her mother until this week.

On Thursday, she stepped over the charred remains of what once was her kitchen in Altadena, a narrow neighborhood northeast of Los Angeles.

He was looking for his cast-iron pans in the hope they would survive the blaze, one of a series of historic blazes in the area that have killed at least 16 people, decimated multiple communities and left thousands homeless.

Across the street -296. number – his friend Rachel’s house is also in ashes. The house next door – 281 – where the family party was enjoyed, is gone.

About three blocks away, on Devirian Place, where his girlfriend lived, some neighbors tried to douse the roaring flames that were about to consume their homes with garden hoses.

Now they, too, are searching for treasure among the ruins after the fire wiped out an entire community nestled in the shadow of the San Gabriel Mountains.

It all started on Tuesday night.

The winds in Santa Ana blew hard all day.

Daron was in his front yard just after 6pm trying to keep the local items from flying.

Across the street at 296 West Las Flores Drive, Rachel Gillespie was taking down Christmas decorations, worried about plastic icicles and patio furniture.

They exchanged worried glances. “This doesn’t look good, does it?” he stated

At that time, he was only worried about the wind.

They had no idea that one of the two worst wildfires in LA history was raging just a few miles away, part of a day-long nightmare that would see them at their peak. six fires at the same time threatening America’s second largest city

The Eaton fire that swept through Altadena has destroyed more than 14,000 hectares, destroyed thousands of homes and businesses, and left 11 dead. By the end of the week, Eaton only held 15%.

In west LA, the Palisades fire, which started that morning, would burn more than 23,000 acres, shrinking. a large part of the vibrant community to ashes, and killing at least five people.

Daron’s next-door neighbor in apartment number 281, Dillon Akers, was working at a donut stand in the Topanga mall – about 25 miles away – when smoke began to fill their neighborhood.

The 20-year-old raced home when he heard the news, only to find his corner of northwest Altadena pitch black and his family members frantically evacuating his home.

Uncle jumped over his white picket fence to save precious seconds as he packed things into the back of the car.

For the next two hours, Dillon did the same, gathering food, medicine, clothing and toiletries. In his haste, he lost his keys, and spent 30 minutes searching with torches in the smoky darkness until he found them smashed against a fence.

During the desperate search, she kept telling herself that the local authorities would be able to manage the fire moving down the mountain towards the home she shared with her mother, grandmother, aunt and two younger cousins.

Dillon had experienced wind storms before, and had seen smoke in the mountains, but this time was different. This time the orange glow in the sky was directly overhead.

“I was at 10 on the fear scale,” she said.

At 12:30 a.m. Wednesday, Dillon said he and his mother were the last people to leave West Las Flores Drive. They may have been the last survivors.

The next day the authorities would announce that the remains of a neighbor on the road had been found.

Rachel and Daron left the neighborhood two hours before Dillon. Rachel had to be pulled out by a friend who drove by: “You have to go now.”

Rachel – with his wife, baby, five cats and two days’ worth of clothes – said goodbye to the house he had bought a year earlier.

Daron also took what he could: a guitar he bought at age 14 with money he earned working as an extra in a karate film, and a painting of his family walking down London’s Abbey Road, resembling the iconic Beatles album cover. .

As residents of Las Flores Drive evacuated, Daron’s neighbors tried to fight the flames a few blocks away.

At 417 Devirian Place, Hipolito Cisneros and his close friend and neighbor Larry Villescas, who lived down the street at 416, took garden hoses.

The scene outside looked like hell.

The garage of a house was on fire. One car in front of another as well.

They hosed down structures from multiple houses and doused them with water – including the home of Daron’s girlfriend, Sachi.

“It was repelling the water. It didn’t even penetrate or anything,” Hipolito said, referring to the bone-dry brush and brush around the houses.

In time, they progressed, removed the embers and spotted the flames. Larry thought they were winning.

Then their sleeves dried up – because of everything water pressure problems it was later learned that it hampered firefighting efforts throughout Los Angeles County amid intense demand.

An explosion was heard nearby, another house burst into flames. By 1 a.m., both of their families were packing to leave.

“We tried. We really tried,” Hipolito said.

By 2:30 a.m. Wednesday, police cars were blaring down the street, telling everyone to leave immediately.

As he turned the corner of his street, Larry saw in his truck’s rearview mirror that his garage was on fire.

By 3 a.m., the street was empty.

Much of the Los Angeles region is made up of small neighborhoods and communities like Altadena.

On any given morning, people would walk the rows of houses for a cup of coffee at The Little Red Hen Coffee Shop, stopping to leave for work in the morning.

Many have described the close-knit community here for decades, where residents raised families and watched the children who once played on the street grow up.

But driving around for the first time since his world was turned upside down, Daron barely recognizes his neighborhood.

The big blue house that marked a well-known turn is gone. All the landmarks that once guided them are gone. He points to each neighbor’s possessions when he realizes that no one is standing.

He takes pictures of his and Rachel’s house and the street he shares with Dillon. Outside his girlfriend’s house – which Larry and Hipolito tried to save – he videos and chats with their families before calling Sachi to describe the state of his house.

“God, it’s all gone,” she says, her voice cracking.

But some elements remain among the ruins.

At her sister’s house on West Las Flores Drive, she finds multicolored plastic lawn ornaments stuck to her lawn, somehow untouched by the flames.

She plucks each cover from the floor, knowing that while these floral decorations may feel insignificant amid the devastation, they can also bring a smile.

Across the street from what was once his home, the red brick chimney remains standing. Around him is a pile of clay pottery.

His hands, blackened from soot, collect what he can, but many pieces fall apart at the touch.

There is a roasted lemon tree in the meadow, some fruit still warm to the touch.

“If I get a seed, we can replant it,” he says, taking a handful.

“It’s like a way to start over.”