‘Lucky Ones’ Cope With Life Amid the Ruins

When Glenda Cooper of Altadena departed for work Wednesday, a spindly stand of cypress trees stood across the block from her living room window.

Later that day, after firefighters allowed her to return, she had a mountain view.

Unfortunately, it came at quite a cost: The cypress trees now resemble blackened fish skeletons, portions of the Angeles National Forest in the distance are scorched, and nothing but charred rubble is left of the six homes directly across the street.

“We were so fortunate, but now at night it feels so spooky I can’t even walk outside,” said the cosmetics company employee. “I just feel so bad for the neighbors.”

Cooper, 39, is among the dozens of Southland residents whose homes remained untouched while the ones around them were destroyed in last week’s rage of firestorms.

For those now “home alone,” the feelings of joy and relief are mixed with grief and guilt. And for many who returned home to live without power, water or phone service, the days seem a whole lot noisier, the nights longer and the scenery more than a little stark as they ponder the turn of fate that left them winners and their neighbors losers.

“I look out my door and I see devastation,” said Theodora Arnold, 57, one of three homeowners remaining after the fire on Meguiar Drive in Altadena. “It’s an eerie feeling. You feel lucky on the one hand, but you’re alone.”

Except, says Arthur Lewis, for the constant drone of news and fire department helicopters.

“It reminds me of the movie, ‘Boyz N the Hood,’ ” said the 40-year-old computer software designer. “We never have helicopters constantly up here.”

Lewis and his family, whose rambling ranch-style home in the once-quiet Eaton Canyon area north of Pasadena was relatively undamaged, have spent much of their time since Wednesday in their recreational vehicle.

Without electricity for three days, they cooked, showered and watched TV in the Cruise Air III parked next to their house on a block where flames hopscotched, destroying some residences, damaging others and leaving a handful unscathed.

By Saturday, power had been restored and the reverberating sounds of helicopters were being replaced by the grinding sounds of buzz saws, which in coming months will echo through the canyons of Altadena, Laguna Beach and other communities hit hard by the fires.

But for once, the noise of construction will seem like music to the ears, said Jean LeCappelain, another survivor in the flatlands of Altadena. “It’s the sound of rebuilding,” she said.

Like LeCappelain, several survivors expressed optimism that their neighborhoods will be rebuilt relatively quickly. After working together to save their homes, the task ahead could further bond their communities, they said.

But some also wondered whether they will feel more vulnerable once the glare of publicity subsides.

In the meantime, LeCappelain and others are spending their days helping less fortunate neighbors.

On Saturday morning, LeCappelain and her husband, Dick, placed a rack of used clothes on their outdoor patio for those who had lost their wardrobes.

The LeCappelains, Salvation Army administrators on vacation in Phoenix when the brush fires broke out, sped back to Altadena upon hearing that their block was on fire.

“We felt guilty we were spared and others were not,” Jean LeCappelain said.

Architect Chuck Young, whose hillside colonial north of Pasadena miraculously survived, provided rebuilding tips to George Taylorson, whose home across the street burned to the foundation.

Young’s house, surrounded by pine and oak trees, was saved when Taylorson alerted nearby firefighters that flames were spreading from a stable. At that point, Taylorson’s own house was already engulfed.

“I have mixed emotions,” Young said as he took a breather from clearing brush and trees in front of his home. “I feel happy that my house was spared, but I feel sorrow that my neighbors have lost theirs.”

Pondering the fate of his neighbor, he could only think about whether higher forces were at work.

“It’s hard to analyze it,” he said. “It’s not because I’m a better man or because George did something wrong.

“God knows.”

In Laguna Beach, Doris Bender and her daughter, Angie, had planned to help nearby fire victims after cleaning the ants out of their refrigerator, but they were instead inundated for hours by news reporters and neighbors who were amazed that their four-bedroom house remained unscathed while dozens of similar luxury residences on all sides were destroyed.

“Should I be feeling guilty or happy? I feel both, because other people lost their homes and ours is here,” said Angie, 17. “Nobody deserved for their house to be burned.”

For Lewis in Eaton Canyon, a relative newcomer to the hillside neighborhood, the days following the fire have been particularly taxing. His son was hassled by sheriff’s deputies blocking access to the canyon. And while camped out in his trailer, he has been pestered by contractors and insurance adjusters roaming the neighborhood.

On Saturday, he hung out some plastic Halloween jack-o’-lanterns in an effort to help the neighborhood return to normal.

“I plan to hand out candy as usual,” he said.