Advertisement

Hotel Soothes Souls Trying to Regroup : Coping: ‘It’s not like being on vacation,’ but Laguna residents and their pets displaced by fire are welcomed at the Ritz-Carlton.

Share
TIMES STAFF WRITER

Friday had it good on Sunday.

How many other cairn terriers get room service at the Ritz-Carlton?

But his stay, as well as his owners’ visit at the hotel, was hardly under pleasant circumstances.

“At this point, we’re homeless,” said Friday’s owner, Kathleen Harty, speaking for her husband, John, and their 11-year-old twins, Kevin and Margaret.

Like more than 100 other families, the Hartys fled last week’s devastating Laguna Beach fire and lodged at the 393-room hotel for the bargain price of $99 a night--about $300 off the normal rate. Their home had been destroyed, and the Ritz was a place to regroup and plan for the future, Harty said.

Advertisement

Ritz general manager John Dravinski said the hotel rates were reduced to help the fire victims in their time of crisis.

“Money wasn’t a question,” Dravinski said. “We felt we had to reach out and help the community.”

A strict policy of not allowing pets was lifted, with the hotel even offering room-service meals for family dogs and cats.

On Sunday, about two dozen families remained. The Hartys, however, were checking out.

“It’s been wonderful here,” Kathleen Harty said. “But it’s not like being on vacation.”

The stay at the hotel overlooking the Pacific Ocean was nice, but it didn’t take away the pain of losing a home and belongings, fire victims said.

“We have memories, but we have no more reminders,” said U.S. District Judge Lawrence T. Lydick, whose Laguna Beach home burned to the ground. “Things can be replaced, but they’re not the same.”

He and his wife, Martha, arrived at the hotel with just the clothes they were wearing and their black cat, Daimon.

Advertisement

“It’s hard to describe how terrible it feels,” he said.

The Lydicks said the hotel management has treated them kindly, offering free brunch and donated clothing.

“Most people don’t know we’re refugees here,” Lydick said, as hotel employees brought him a cup of decaffeinated coffee. “They treat us like all their other guests.”

Advertisement