‘The fragility of life’
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Malibu:
Monday afternoon, along Las Flores Canyon, an area high in the hills above Pacific Coast Highway that’s been evacuated, Steve Brookes, 43, and a handful of others were parked, waiting to see if the danger would pass. ‘This is all I know. I was born and raised here.’ He said it’s quiet, and then ‘every 10 years there’s something, fires or floods.’
He lived through the 1971 and 1993 fires. Everybody is much more prepared this time than in 1993, when there were no airdrops and fire engines, he said. In 1993, somebody dubbed his street Miracle Park Ave., because it was not burned when much around it was. He brought with him high school yearbooks, tax returns, bank statements, two concert tickets to the Eagles, a fax machine, bicycle, computer and his dog Indy.
Nigel Cooper, 55, owns a software company and lives on Manzanita with his wife, Nancy Lindquist, 50. ‘Everywhere you live there is always something,’ he says. He used to live in London and there were problems there too. They’re about to move to Oregon. ‘If the house burns down, at least we won’t have to get a moving company.’
They took out three dogs, three cats, computers, jewelry, financial papers and his father’s family albums. ‘There’s fire, there are earthquakes. You just accept the fact it could happen, and don’t get excited if it does. ‘If it doesn’t take the house, we’ll go back; in the meantime, it’s a beautiful day. I have to make sure I don’t get sun-burned.’
Nancy Evans, 63, lives on Live Oak Meadow. Her all-wood home burned down in 1993. She rebuilt it with steel and concrete and a metal roof. She was talking to neighbors about the deer. ‘I have a love-hate relationship with them. We love looking at them and taking pictures of them, but I have to chase them out of my yard because they eat my flowers and my plants. They’ve kept our yards pretty sparse this year, so that’s helpful for the fire.’ She has a deer-crossing sign in front of her house.
A couple months ago, worried about possible fires, she moved valuables to storage. ‘It’s a very dry year. We burned out in ’93. I’m a little nervous.’ She removed jewelry and photos to her mother’s house, and a lot of papers and Christmas decorations to a storage unit, as well as her tax returns. She had her car packed up with family videos. The 1993 fire was hotter and faster, and this time people seemed more prepared, she said. She’s waiting it out as long as she can because if she leaves, she can’t come back. In ‘93, her husband rode his bike into town then walked back up to discover the house had burned.
Larry Rick, 49, a physician’s assistant at Kaiser, lives on Live Oak Meadow. He says Malibu is not just celebrities. There’s a fixer-upper here and a trailer there. Malabama, they call it. About midday, residents were told to leave.
Rick has carriers for three cats, and his wife already took out important papers. Firefighters have assured him the neighborhood is very defendable. In the car he has personal pieces of art and a ‘get out of town’ bag. ‘Everything else can be replaced, but I don’t expect to lose anything.’
Jeff Casper, 42, is holding his son Dolphan, 3, on his shoulders, and his wife Eryka Casper, 37, is holding 10-month old daughter Bella in her arms. They are outside their home on Las Flores, at the bottom of the canyon. Their son’s preschool burned to ground at Malibu Presbyterian.
They have brought their son’s skateboard and artwork, plaster casts of the wife when pregnant, passports, a sailboard, surfboard, design books and videos. Both cars are packed up.
They lived directly across from World Trade Center and moved to Malibu November 2001. ‘It’s déjà vu,’ Casper said. Last night they made cookies and pizza for the firefighters. Eryka says, ‘Whether it’s an urban landscape or more rural, it’s always very humbling, the fragility of life.’
-- Anna Gorman