Hell Angeles - Chapter 6

January 9th

Day three. I don’t know when grief comes because fear comes first. Fear comes in waves, so many it’s hard to count. There’s the wildfire. There’s the smoke obliterating the sky over Los Angeles making the city unlivable. There are new fires erupting along mountain ridges high in the Hollywood Hills, far away in the Valley, spreading down the canyons. Both edges of the Pacific Palisades fire, east and west, are raging out of control. Altadena is a lava pit. The blood-dimmed tide is loosed. The death count started low, artificially low, and keeps climbing. The elderly are getting cremated in their living rooms. The first responders, men and women in uniforms, elected officials who appear on TV look bewildered. They blink slowly. As if judgment day has appeared in the side mirror and they might as well slow down the car. Let it catch up. There’s nowhere to go.

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity[1]

We will learn about good and evil today. Of the seven deadly sins, pride greed wrath envy lust gluttony sloth—it is lust we will see on display. Lust is what pushes the vandal, the arsonist, the looter off his couch and into your yard. Lust for chaos. Lust to grab what is there and take it for better use. Covet it. Destroy it. Sell it off the back of a truck for cash to buy weapons and drugs and sex. The hope you carry like a shield, that everything will be okay, the system will hold, the worst actors won’t act on you—well, today is about drowning. The ceremony of innocence is drowned.

My worst fears manifest on Day Three.

I won’t ever have a home again. I don’t mean home in the physical sense—four walls, a ceiling, an oven and a mailbox. I mean home in the real sense. Home as in, where one feels okay. Home as in, the place one feels defended.

I’m a courageous person who wakes up at 5:00 am on Thursday January 9th crippled by fear. The fear is cosmic, so big I can’t do anything but study its outlines. I’ve felt this fear before. I can feel fear’s tentacles all over my body. Is it a childhood fear? Or is it because I have children I need to defend. My son Grey is asthmatic. He has terrible lungs. He travels with an inhaler and nebulizer and most nights he falls asleep coughing. This heavy smoke over Los Angeles has pushed us to evacuate further. Colorado. I wake up in a strange bed on Day Three and try to figure out how I got here. There’s the drone of my noise machine. My husband is still sleeping. He took a melatonin and then collapsed after a 16-hour-drive. His clothes reek of smoke (from reentering the evacuation zone yesterday) and are lying in a ball on the cold wood floor.

The realizations come slowly at the waking hour, but they come. The kids are asleep. There is no school today, tomorrow, or for the foreseeable future. We are 900 miles away and will watch the flames on TV until further notice. There is powerless to this situation. But there has been powerlessness from the start. Fear. Powerlessness. The curtains are thin, made of cheap linen. Through them I can see mountains covered by snow and ice, not fire.

I barely slept.

I check to see if my house stands.

It’s no use. The security app on my phone won’t refresh. Because there’s no power anywhere west of the 405 freeway. I can’t get a live feed from our doorbell camera. Maybe I never will again. I’m getting notifications that the back-up battery on our alarm system is low. On the brink.

Morning.

Jeannie writes to us at 5:20 am.

Does anyone know if US Bank on the corner of Sunset & Swarthmore is still standing? Pic would be great.

Another day of crisis. Shower. Brush teeth. Do hair. Put on real pants. Try not to wake anyone. Carry the phone upstairs to the first floor of the rental condo, start opening and shutting empty cabinets in the kitchen, no breakfast cereal, no packaged bagels, no milk, no cut fruit—nothing for anyone to eat. Piled high by the door are duffle bags of filthy laundry. A Dorito’s chip bag from the car ride spills onto an abandoned iPad. Someone wore flip flops to Colorado. In January. Who made this decision? To evacuate here. Nothing for anyone to do. I don’t want to be here. The kids will be at each other’s throats before breakfast (which we don’t have) on the first day. The thousand-pound anchor called parenting-through-Covid PTSD is pulling me into a depression spiral before I’ve turned on the coffee machine.

Olga writes:

I believe US Bank survived

Judi writes:

I saw a video also that showed Caruso’s village and then the intersection of Sunset and Swarthmore and it looked as if us bank was still intact as the camera swiped past.

Kambiz writes:

I am up and ready to help whoever needs it

(He will regret making this offer)

Jeannie is very connected to US Bank:

We know our home is gone. My family are original owners & although material, we lost invaluable multigenerational items. We have the video Heather took going up our street. But, if you’re able to take pics looking straight at 1110 Galloway & surrounding homes of those I grew up with or babysat their kids, I’d appreciate (1106, 1110, 1111 & 1116 Galloway and 1111 Harzell). Plus US Bank pic where all we have left may have survived. If it’s too big an ask, I totally understand.

Kambiz writes:

I will try.

The day has just begun. I sip my coffee and float back to the surface. I’m feeling better now. Caffeine helps until it doesn’t. I’m still in the helping part of the caffeine cycle. On my bookshelf in Pacific Palisades, I have a dog-eared copy of Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall Apart. I know the heart advice for difficult times. Move towards painful situations with friendliness and curiosity. Relax into the essential groundlessness of our situation. Discover truth and love in the midst of chaos. Mainline coffee.[2]

A.J. writes:

my god

What’s he responding to I wonder? I click on the video. It was taken yesterday late afternoon. It’s turning right from Sunset onto Bienveneda up to the first stop sign. Every house is aflame and some look bombed. Broken. Thrashed. Scaffolding bare, poking into the smoky atmosphere.

Kathy chimes in at 5:20 am.

Any news about the Huntington overnight?

Looking for info specifically about La Cumbre and Camarosa (mid-block on both streets).

Many people have seen Kambiz’s offer to help. They are coming forward without shame or fear, making requests. Leigh then Rebecca then Martin then Gretchen then Joanna and Debbie.

Hoping for some video of El Hito Circle, turning right at the stop sign instead of going straight

Does anyone have video going down palmera from northfield or a confirmation that 675 is gone?

Could you please send me Swarthmore/de Pauw as well. We are 15345 De Pauw.

Does anyone have any intel on the area highlighted in yellow? I saw that Muskingum north of sunset was doing alright. How about Alcima and El Medio?

Hi all, looking for info on Castellammare.

Specifically, looking for Tramonto Dr/Revello.

People want information even if it’s dire. They’re dying for information. Almost 72 hours into this uncertainly hell and the thing they can’t take anymore is the uncertainty. Uncertainty kills. Uncertainty eats the edges of your soul and keeps going. To just get confirmation that everything you own including your sock drawer and tax returns are incinerated in the fire, to just get confirmation of this is the goal. The medicine. At least then you know.

But people still don’t know....

We are looking for info about 16630 pequeno place, off Tellem off Lachman in Marquez knolls area.

There are also others on Tellem waiting to hear. Thanks in advance if possible and for all you are doing.

Desperation before dawn. These people didn’t get any sleep I realize. The chat thread was active the entire night. The only silence was between 1:09 am when Kevin asked to be added to the Bluffs group (parallel threads are running for each neighborhood) and 4:19 am when Kelly posted a heartbreak emoji in response to an LA Times video showing the kindergarten playground and auditorium survived at Marquez elementary school (she notes, that is no longer the case). 5:55 am, we circle back to cats. Cats again. Tawny is desperate as she writes to us.

I need to look for my cat. Any idea when they will let us in?

Kambiz writes:

Where do you live? I am planning to go there this morning

Tawny:

965 Chattanooga Ave. our house is gone but our cat was outside.

Kambiz:

That area was tough to get to yesterday, if I can get up there today, I will try and look.

Rebecca:

@Kambiz if you’re able to, we have not been able to get eyes on 626 Bienveneda and its neighboring homes (630, 620, 627).  

Kambiz:

Is that south of sunset

Rebecca:

Yes.

Kambiz:

I’ll try but I’ll be honest, it wasn’t good yesterday

It wasn’t good yesterday. No, it wasn’t good yesterday. A quick selection:

Can anyone tell me if 736 muskinghum 4 houses in from Sunset is on fire yet? According to app look like it’s getting ready to burn

TRIGGER WARNING – Alphabets in the hour

Horrifying

{Video of a house burning}

Is the house across the street still standing? That is my house

Status of Casa Gateway Complex at Palisades Drive and sunset? Has the whole place burned?

Tawny posts a picture of her cat, Sansa, peering from the footwell on the passenger side of a midsized sedan. No offense to Sansa (and Texas Longhorn fans) but she’s not an attractive color. Burnt orange, dark grey and white. Ragged. Shaggy. You imagine her to have cataracted eyes. Another picture comes of Sansa. In this one she is stretched sideways across a couch sleeping.

If anyone sees her (Sansa) just put her in your car and call me

Tawny adds her phone number which we don’t need. Because she’s writing from it.

Our home is in Marquez Knolls. Please get her if you see her and call me.

The next thing we know, a crew of professionals has air-brushed and groomed Sansa. In this next photo (it’s an official poster) Sansa is perched on a stone patio looking directly at the camera with dreamy blue sky and green trees waving in the backdrop. The cat looks perfect. This is the problem with Instagram. Everything looks better (*absurdly better) than it does in real life. And, I have a theory that the gap is getting wider. Restaurants, coffee shops, public places pets and people get filthier, more neglected, more decayed, as Instagram becomes the only measure. I’m sorry to say this, but Sansa doesn’t even look like herself in this photo. MISSING CAT: SANSA. Address and phone number repeated.

People who didn’t sleep are on their third cup of coffee or cocaine, firing off messages asking for help. With reckless abandon.

any word on 16581 via Floresta

Has anyone heard anything about upper Jacon way?

If you were able to see the corner of alcima and Las Lomas, please let me know.

could you provide any more video of De Pauw? You stop short of our house

Anyone with eyes on the Livorno loop area?

17000 block of Livorno, lower Marquez? We are 17047 Livorno. 2 story gold house, white trim, brown garage?

Anyone know anything about upper Michael lane?

Does anyone know if the condo building behind Gelson’s is still standing?

Where was the video of or pic of Hampden and Swarthmore?

Would you be able to go to 912 Kagawa St?

Still hoping for las Pulgas road and las Pulgas and place news

same

Could you go by 931 Jacon?

Could you check Las Lomas/Anoka and 16160 Anoka if you’re still over there?

Can someone check on 761 Lachman Lane?

732 Via de la Paz. The owner is abroad. I’m thinking it’s not good news but could someone please confirm?

If anyone can check my parents house I would be forever grateful 16611 Merivale Lane

Just off Lachman past Akron

Did any of those standing Hartzell homes happen to be my beloved 810 Hartzell? You sold us this wonderful home 25 years ago and I cannot stop crying.

1200 Tellem?

This is Sahel I am a spiritual advisor and healer and here for anyone struggling and needing some inner peace and guidance…. we all do I am sure. Pls keep praying and visualizing better days and believing we will all make through this together as Palisadeians.

Kambiz we are looking for info about 16630 pequeno place, off Tellem in Marquez knolls area.

There are also others on Tellem waiting to hear.

The chains of charity grow heavy. The few (like Kambiz) who put an offer to help into the chat are being bombarded by the needy. By 6:21 am on Thursday, Day Three of this apocalypse, 12,880 people or 56% of Pacific Palisades residents have had their single-family homes, condominiums, apartment units, duplexes and mobile homes destroyed by fire.[3] Finally, Kambiz asks for help.

If anyone wants to be admin on this chat, send me a message.

The word “looter” appears in the early hours of Thursday.

Victoria writes:

My concern are looters. Am I being unreasonable?

Omar, who must have missed yesterday’s bike spree writes:

I don’t think it’s easy to get up there and what can you see honestly in ruble.

Nima has a different answer:

Totally reasonable, if you have things to be looted.

Chantal-Price writes:

Not unreasonable. Our home was broken into. Police surprisingly came. Looters.

Nima adds:

If your home is still standing, I suggest renting a UHaul and gathering as many belongings as you can.

Nima’s suggestion is interesting. If you’re lucky enough to have a house that’s still standing in Pacific Palisades, rent a U Haul and take out all your stuff. Protect it from looters. The suggestion makes total sense except that a) there’s a 23,000-acre fire raging and there’s no safe way to breathe b) while it’s easy to get in on a bike it’s not easy to get in with a U Haul and dollies and strap a weight belt on and spread plastic covering on your floors so the furniture doesn’t scratch and c) we paid the state of California 143 billion in personal income taxes last year hoping it wouldn’t come to this.[4] For the love of god. Has it come to this? As if moving isn’t stressful under normal conditions? Now we’re moving furniture and clothes and beds out of our homes while a wildfire tears down our street? As windows explode? We need to remove the contents of our home, so looters and arsonists won’t carry them off in fake firetrucks? We’ll get to that in a minute.

My friend Jessica is calling. She has breached the police barricade for the third time in three days. Bravo. These are the moments in life when you realize why you liked certain people in the first place. Her husband issued threats, forbid her from doing this. She did it anyway. PS: this is why divorce rates spike in the years following a wildfire.[5] Jessica sends me a picture of herself. She is in front of her house in the Huntington, wearing a lot of protective gear. A gas mask, WWI-style, plus lab goggles and a red-brimmed trucker hat. She wears the same expression as Walter White in the pilot episode of Breaking Bad. Walter White wore a gas mask too, goggles and a pair of dirty underwear while the police and FBI chased him through the New Mexico desert. In the opening minutes of the award-winning drama (maybe the best TV show of all time) he staggers out from his RV slash methamphetamine cooking lab which he has harpooned in a ditch. He can’t go further, and the cops are closing in. He records last words. “My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. To all law enforcement entitles, this is not an admission of guilt. I am speaking to my family now.”

I’m thinking, maybe Jessica would do well to record a few words to her family. Instead, she writes to me:

I need a valium

Later we talk and she tells me she saw looters. “Where did you see looters?” I ask anxiously. She drove down Corona Del Mar on her way out of the Huntington. A very nice street which in normal times has tons of security. No security today. Guys jumping over the fences. Going right into the homes, wearing masks. Filling duffel bags. “You’re sure they were looters?” It’s a stupid question to ask. Of course they were looters. It’s everywhere in the chat threads now. Like Chantal-Price said:

Our home was broken into…. Looters.

S writes:

Many looters unfortunately are getting in but many are getting arrested too…… over 50 police units on pch on wait for that and other security purposes…….I stopped and talked to them and they assured me they have our community s back and areon top of looters…… our cul de sac got looted and we called them and arrests were made

Victoria:

Police are stopping looters on SM. Just saw it.

Open-mouth emoji added by two people.

Sam writes:

Omg, thank you for posting. what streets?

S:

Maybe it’s best bc looters for everywhere yesterday when we hiked our way in after 1 hour walk from santa monica and another 40 minutes hike through bunt hills…not recommended

Many homes still standing are now destroyed on the inside by looters

Joel has information:

400 officers currently assigned to Palisades Fire.

Looters are being arrested, 7 recently, including two posing as firefighters.

Here’s a new fear. One I didn’t anticipate. Looters dressed as firemen. I start making a file of arrests and investigations. Only way to deal with this. Track it like you’d track the weather before a storm, the polls before an election. Team Germany and England and Cameroon and United States and Costa Rica and Spain and Italy before the World Cup. Track it. Study it. Pick it apart. Get curious. Put your fear aside.

The fear is still there.

Home invasions, looting, arson, the collapse of law and order; this landscape scares me. It scares me more than fire. To wit, the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Major Crimes Bureau takes into custody a suspect named Ivan Cedric Reed, 34, who broke into 18343 Clifftop Way around 5 p.m. He was caught wearing what looks like a child’s Halloween “firefighter” costume. Yellow cloth jacket. Black vest with a ballpoint pen attached and an American flag badge. The suspect is charged with impersonating a firefighter, receiving stolen property (odd verbiage), unlawful use of a badge and unauthorized entry of a closed disaster area. “Reed is accused of wearing a yellow firefighter jacket and having a first responders’ radio in a mandatory evacuation area,” LA District Attorney Nathan Hochman announced. “The defendant allegedly told deputies he was a firefighter.”

Later, other people are charged with arson in connection with fires set in South Gate, Huntington Park, Los Angeles, Hawthorne and Compton. Luis Felipe Gudino, 28, is charged with one count of felony arson during a state of emergency for allegedly igniting a coach at the rear of an apartment building in South Gate. The fire spread from the flaming couch to a utility pole, which charred the exterior of the apartment building. Richard Alex Peterson, 36, is charged with one count of felony arson for allegedly dragging a Christmas tree onto the sidewalk in front of a motel in South Gate and igniting the tree, which burned and burned well. Omar Lopez, 35, is charged with two counts of felony arson for allegedly lighting a dried Christmas tree on fire that was on the sidewalk in front an apartment building at 6915 Templeton Street in Huntington Park. What is it with lighting Christmas trees on fire?

Manuel Rodriguez, 35, is charged with one felony count of arson for setting a fire inside a trash bin behind Donald Bruce Kaufman Brentwood Branch Library. Note. I spend a lot of time at this library. It’s a grimy place that attracts loose ends. Travis Glodt, 34, is charged with three counts of felony arson for using a lighter to set fire to a Hawthorne city water shut off valve and vegetation at 11601 Hawthorne Blvd., gathering up trash against the wall and front door at 11939 Hawthorne Blvd., and igniting it, then lighting bushes on fire next to a cement post at a store at 11983 Hawthorne Blvd. According to the District Attorney’s office, whose phones are ringing off the hook. They’re busy. 

Leopoldo Reveles, 49, is charged with two counts felony arson for using a blow torch to light trash on fire next to the train tracks at Carlin Avenue and Alameda Street in Compton, causing a fire that damaged a fire hydrant. I’d say the fire hydrant is a win. The train tracks on fire would have been worse.

Joshua Love, 29, is accused of attempting to burglarize an apartment complex at 416 San Vicente in Santa Monica. He is charged with one felony count each of looting during an emergency or evacuation, attempted second-degree burglary, and unauthorized entry of closed disaster area; along with one misdemeanor count each of possession of burglary tools; interference at the scene of the emergency, misdemeanor trespass by entering and occupying and possession of an injection/ingestion device in case 25ARCF00081. There’s more to this story I’m guessing, but I’m not going to call the DA’s office. Like I said, they’re busy.

Nathan Hochman gets on TV and makes an an example of an individual charged with stealing $200,000 worth of property from a home in Mandeville Canyon. Another looter stole an Emmy Award from someone’s evacuated home in Altadena. “To anyone who believes they can use this disaster as a cover for criminal activity, let this be your warning: You will be caught, and you will be held accountable. The citizens of this county deserve safety and justice, especially in the wake of such unprecedented devastation, and I will not rest until we achieve both.”

Hochman won’t be resting for a while.

Professional “Scam artists” are now appearing. Convicted arsonists get caught driving a fake firetruck into the Pacific Palisades fire. Dustin Nehl, 31, and his wife, 44-year-old Jennifer Nehl (interesting age gap) are arrested on suspicion of impersonating firefighters and unauthorized entry of an evacuation zone. For background: in 2017 the Oregonian was sentenced to five years in prison for a five-year arson spree. Free at last, Dustin Nehl and his older sidekick, Jennifer, were spotted by an LAPD patrol unit which contacted the LASD that they had observed a fire truck that did not appear to be legitimate. What could tip them off? Maybe the ridiculousness of the firetruck. Both suspects were wearing turnout gear and told authorities that they were volunteer firefighters for a nonexistent department “Roaring River Fire Department” in Oregon. The words were written across the front of a decommissioned firetruck once owned by the state of California. Another joke on California taxpayers. 

The Nehls were wearing CAL-Fire t-shirts under their turnout gear. They were both wearing helmets. They both carried radios tuned into official channels. That’s frightening.

Los Angeles Magazine tells us Nehl’s five-year prison sentence was followed by 3-years’ post-prison supervision which appears not to have worked. Jennifer gave birth to a baby boy named Makenna last November. It was a complicated birth that led a friend of the couple to set up a GoFundMe page to raise money for the couple’s travel to a Portland ICU unit. The baby later died, according to Dustin Nehl’s YouTube channel. By convincing people they were firefighters, the Nehls acquired a free hotel room on their way into Pacific Palisades, a fire official confirmed.

Fati writes:

When were the looters arrested ? Last 24 hours?

Now the inevitable. Confusion about who is good. Who is evil. Who is firefighter. Who is a looter, thief, arsonist.

Joel has information:

Firefighters in Palisades are in “seek and destroy” mode, looking for hotspots and putting them out before the day heats up and the Santa Ana wind returns.

They are entering private yards by hopping the gates.

Hence the danger of confusion with looters who dress as firefighters.

Someone comments:

Wow. People just really suck re: looters in firefighter ‘costumes’

Ben:

The national guard should get special authorization to deal with looters

Joel has information:

L.A. County D.A. Nathan Hochman just told me that there have been more arrests of would-be-looters in Altadena than Palisades. However there is a concern that looting has been underreported because most security cameras aren’t working (no electricity). People may discover thefts when they return home.

What a comforting thought.

People may discover thefts when they return home.

That night at 8:33 pm our house alarm goes off. My phone is exploding with notifications that the kitchen door has been breached. I don’t know if the window is smashed or it’s just the door that’s been opened. It could be wind of course, or the house is on fire. Both these conditions are probable, but there’s been so much looting these past twelve hours that my mind goes to looting. Not fire. This puts me into a panic spiral.

I call the security company, Gates Security, who patrols our neighborhood. Our homeowners’ association hired Gates Security in 2024 to deal with the string of home invasions that plagued our area the preceding two years. It was rampant. The home invasions went up and down the street, and no one from LAPD cared. If they cared, they had no resources to send our way (it’s awe-inspiring what the State of California gets away with). The people coordinating the attacks took notice that there was no law enforcement. The home invasions picked up. It didn’t matter if you had security camera footage, front and side facial pictures, fingerprints, if you managed to rope the guy in your arms and carry him into the police station. Gascon’s DA was like the confession box at a Catholic Church. Doesn’t matter what you did. Say the rosary. We forgive you. No detention. No prosecution. Finally, our neighbors came around begging us to throw $10,000 into the pot so we could get security. Some balked. Some said they’d spend ten times that amount if it meant they could sleep at night. Gates Security was our answer.

Gates Security picks up the phone tonight. The operator listens to my distress. She sounds bored. She is unhelpful. Now I remember that I wanted our homeowners’ association to hire Nastec Security. They are a Calabasas-based company whose owner is Israeli and served in the military. That sounds like who you would want to patrol your home. I call the owner. Ben. He picks up my call immediately. We start talking. I get on well with people who have spent their lives dealing with seedy people. I have no idea why. We talk for a long time and my panic spikes. Ben tells me I should be panicked. He’s never seen chaos like this (and he’s seen a lot). For instance, his guys, private security patrolmen, haven’t left their clients’ homes in 72 hours. They had to stay through the fires, sleeping in garages and on couches (with permission) to fend off looters, thieves, burglars, intruders. Ben tells me it’s the wild west out there. He would love to help me, but he can’t get any of his guys north of Sunset. His guys are south of Sunset. A few are in the Huntington, holding their ground. He issues advice, “Call 911 and keep calling them.”

Instead of calling 911, I try Gates Security again.

I can see it on my call log. 8:45 pm.

Finally, with no other choice, I call 911. When was the last time I called 911? Why does it feel familiar. Recent. I can’t remember. My hands are shaking. I’m too panicked. Now it’s coming to me. My mom’s friend passed out in her arms last July from an opioid overdose; my mom called me instead of calling 911. She was too distraught to make the call herself. She was in her friend’s bedroom and couldn’t remember the address. After a few minutes I was able to calm her down, convince her to call 911 so they could trace her location. She was sobbing as she hung up. I guess I didn’t call 911 then. But now I’m calling….

I’m on hold….

911 picks up after a disastrously long time. Five minutes. Ten minutes? The operator runs through her script and records details. She doesn’t like anything I have to say. She grows surly. Can I describe the men coming through the kitchen door? No. I can’t. She needs an exact description of their faces. What color clothes they’re wearing. I explain that my alarm is blasting, I have no electricity, I’m getting notifications the kitchen door was breached, and could someone just drive 1,000 feet up the road (there are a dozen patrol cars parked on Sunset) and look to see if the house is on fire or being burglarized? No. They don’t do that. She isn’t sympathetic. I beg her. Did you hear that our town is on fire? Houses up and down our street are being looted? Looters getting arrested? While houses burn? Looting. Burning. Is any of this landing? She is not holding space for me. Not part of the California yoga community. This woman on the phone could run Stalin’s campaign. In her last life she dragged peasants across the frozen tundra into the Siberian Gulag and tied them to posts. Made them carry blocks of ice from one side of the lake to the other. Starved them. Whipped them. I ask her if she saw Nathan Hochman on TV promising Los Angeles citizens that looters and arsonists will be arrested and prosecuted to the full extent. I’m a Los Angeles Citizen. Please, help me, please…

911 operator hangs up. Or I hang up.

Our friendship is cut short. I’m in a full sweat. There’s a 99% chance (in my head) that my home is being burglarized while it burns. This is the all-is-lost-moment. We’ve reached it and there’s nothing I can do. No one can help. Whatever the hero was supposed to do in this moment doesn’t happen. Hero is defeated. Flames are raging on the TV; a reporter is standing on a shoulder above the 405 freeway, telling us that the fire is approaching Brentwood from the back of Mandeville Canyon. Fresh resources are being deployed. Massive airplanes are crossing back and forth shooting pink flame retardant down. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of firetrucks barreling up the fire roads. Where the hell were these planes on day one? Or day two? Just one of those planes could have extinguished the fire that started near 1190 Piedra Morada Drive mid-morning on January 7th. Why did they wait until now to pull out all the resources?

Anger. Resent. Fear and powerlessness followed by anger.

Grief is forming like a skim over the surface but it’s not there yet. It’s not there yet. I won’t sleep tonight. I’m quaking, raging, trying to find something concrete to hang onto. This is a waking nightmare from which I can’t get free. A bad acid trip. I’m free-falling in the expectation that someone will call tomorrow to say the house is lost. Good news. Your Italian wedding plates and 40th birthday gold watch (inscription rubbed out) are nicely photographed. Ready and available, listed for a good price on eBay. Repurchase opportunity. 60 cents on the dollar.

Late Thursday night my friend Allison texts me. Her house is on Mandeville; the fire is raging her direction. I ask her where she is. She’s on a plane. She writes:

I am eating the ice cream sundae now on the plane. First time in my life.

---

[1] The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats.
[2] The coffee is my addition to Pema Chodron’s advice.
[3] LA Times February 21st, 2025.
[4] California State Controller’s Office. Data is for fiscal year ‘22/’23.
[5] I have absolutely no data to substantiate this claim.