Worried Search for Information : Fire Refugees Can Only Wait, Watch and Hope

Three weeks ago, Charlene Lewis gave birth to an 8-pound, 12-ounce boy named Jordan.

On Monday afternoon, she went horseback riding. Bareback.

She had not planned it that way.

But when Lewis heard that flames were threatening her new home off Turnbull Canyon in Hacienda Heights, her first thought was of her chestnut mare, Roosandra. Lewis is 21 and Roosandra 20.

“We grew up together,” Lewis said.

Pawed Ground

Roosandra was the calmest 9evacuee at Los Altos High School, grazing greedily on the high school lawn. Her 6-year-old stablemate, Mizza Lil, nervously pawed the ground. Teen-agers chattered nervously as ashes fell like snowflakes.

Adults watched with worried eyes as the great column of brown smoke moved slowly from left to right, past the setting amber sun, past their homes. They saw the column of smoke split into two, one to the north, one to the south. Infrequently, they saw airplanes and helicopters move in and out of the smoke.

“Last night, very late, I could hear fireworks,” said Charles Robinson, Lewis’ stepfather. “This morning it was hot and dry. There wasn’t any dew anywhere.”

Like almost everyone who was evacuated to the Red Cross emergency shelter, Robinson had no idea what had happened to his home. When Lewis, friends and neighbors managed to get Roosandra and Mizza Lil out, the flames were only a ridge away and closing fast.

Watched TV

Anxious neighbors and strangers searched for information, watching television as the reports of destroyed and damaged homes rose steadily.

They worried about mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters who had stayed behind to fight for their homes.

“The frightening thing is they get separated,” said Father George Aguilera, a priest at St. John Vianney Catholic Church.

Several of his parishioners had been evacuated, he said.

“What I can say they probably won’t hear. I just try to give them some peace of mind,” he said.

A table was quickly covered with notes informing missing relatives where to meet or call. Then notes were taped to a wall.

The Red Cross served pizza and soft drinks and offered cots for those without places to go.

Paul Huebner lives on Skyline Drive, where it was reported that homes had been destroyed. But nobody was sure that his had gone.

“On TV I saw a slab of cement where a home once stood and a tree that looked like one in my back yard,” Huebner said.

Battling Blaze

But, he said hopefully, neighbors told him that they had seen fire crews battling to save his home.

Deloris Lipkowski and her 19-year-old daughter, Laura, live on El Venado Drive, a name that translates in Spanish as “the deer,” for the wildlife that live in the rugged, thickly wooded hills. For more than half an hour after spotting the flames, they thought there was no danger.

“It looked like it was under control,” Lipkowski said. “Then it popped over the ridge.”

Within five minutes, she said, flames 50 feet high were within 100 yards of her house, and fire engines moved in to attempt to save her home and a neighbor’s. Her husband, Larry, stayed behind to fight the blaze.

“I was hysterical, crying,” Laura Lipkowski said. “The last thing I said was, ‘I love you and be careful.’ ”

Then, she grabbed a $250 leather coat, a picture of her boyfriend and left.

More Optimistic

Dave and Kathy Lindquist were more optimistic. They were packing what they could, Dave Lindquist said, “when six kids just blew out of nowhere.” They helped the couple pack and drove their collection of six vintage Thunderbirds away from the fire. Lindquist believed his home on Avocado Terrace had been spared.

Elaine Slosek was among the pessimists. She had had the day off and was sunning on her deck when the fire went out of control. She drove down the hill to Los Altos High where her husband is a counselor.

The Sloseks have lived in their house for 15 years and know how to spot it by telescope from the high school. They tried it again Monday.

“All we could see was a telephone pole,” she said. “You wouldn’t be able to see the telephone pole if the house was still there.”