The Southland Firestorm: A Special Report : The Firefighters : On The Fire Line : THE WAITING : ‘This Is the Biggest (Fire) I’ve Ever Seen’

At a critical corner of Pacific Coast Highway, Tammy Lindley was one of a handful of Kern County firefighters assigned to fight back the flames if they came roaring down a ridge toward the Topanga Beach Cantina, the Something’s Fishy sushi restaurant, half a dozen other businesses and about 30 homes just west of Topanga Canyon Boulevard.

Lindley and her Engine 63 crew mates were also responsible for protecting the lives of four San Gabriel Valley firefighters who stood poised on top of the crucial ridge, all of them preparing to defend the site with hand-held hoses.

For more than two hours in the middle of the night Wednesday, at their roadside perch next to the Pizarro Design Center, it was a game of sit and wait as the flames moved inexorably along the Malibu coast, canyon by canyon.

“Dinner is served at the Pizarro Center, or whatever it is,” Lindley joked, handing a bag of Vons barbecue-flavored potato chips to fellow firefighter Larry Frank shortly after 1 a.m. As the time passed, Lindley and her crew mates, who had been munching their makeshift repast while seated on a large boulder, repaired to lawn chairs that had been stored in their fire truck. They chatted about their careers and about the importance of halting the Malibu blaze before it could zip past Topanga Canyon Boulevard and race toward the densely populated neighborhoods of Pacific Palisades.

“I’ve seen a lot of forest fires before,” said Lindley, a three-year veteran of the Kern County department who once worked for the California Department of Forestry. “But this is the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

For a brief period, when it looked as if weakening winds and backfires set by firefighting crews at Tuna Canyon to the west might succeed in stopping the blaze, Lindley reacted with mixed emotions. Most important, of course, was that the fire be halted. Yet, she added, “I want to use up my water.”

Shortly after 3 a.m. she got her chance.

As the blaze picked up speed again and raced toward her ridgeline, Lindley let ‘er rip, shooting 1,200 gallons of water a minute toward the brush and chaparral. With embers flying, the crew also sprayed down the glass and stucco design center.

It was a job done well. Blunted by the water, the fire was pushed back into the hills, where additional backfires could be set. The entire row of businesses was saved and the fire was halted before it could cross the Topanga Canyon intersection.

By 7 a.m., it was time for breakfast. The fare was bacon and eggs, courtesy of the Salvation Army. This time, Lindley wasn’t serving, even as a joke.