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Back in Session : Aftermath: Students and parents at Topanga Elementary School return to the campus closed by last week’s fire.

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SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

One week after a devastating wildfire threatened their canyon and forced them to evacuate school, students at Topanga Elementary School returned to campus, anxious to put the terrifying ordeal behind them.

But as parents and children gathered outside the classrooms swapping stories, it was clear that vivid memories of the fire would linger, like the smell of smoke that remains in the air.

“We didn’t lose anything,” said Lisa Jehle after dropping off her second-grade son. “Except our peace of mind.”

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The only Los Angeles Unified School District school to be evacuated in the fires that raged across the Southland, Topanga Elementary was abuzz Tuesday as administrators, parents and a team of crisis counselors from the district met to assess the psychological scars that the fire left behind. One teacher at the school, Ann Stalcup, lost a lifetime of folk art and costumes from all over the world when her Malibu house burned to the ground. But according to the school’s principal, Steven Friedman, none of the students lost their homes.

“Some people had the fire close enough that it burned their horse corrals, trailers or decks,” Friedman said. “That’s as far as we know right now.”

The school was evacuated just before noon last Tuesday as smoke and flames engulfed the Red Rock area of Old Topanga Canyon Road, in full view of the playground. About 300 students left their classrooms and lined up outside to wait for a ride to safer ground.

“It was really scary,” said third-grader Johnny Pease, remembering the evacuation. “I thought the school was going to burn.”

A bus took 65 of the evacuated students to Birmingham High School in Van Nuys, and parents picked up the others.

The school remained closed for the rest of the week as a crew of workers scrubbed ash from the walls, windows and desks. About a dozen students attended Justice Street Elementary School in Canoga Park on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, but most waited until Tuesday to go back to school.

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In addition to the school’s evacuation, many of the children had to leave their homes, packing what belongings they could fit into their cars and spending nights at hotels or friends’ houses until they could return.

Such drastic changes in the children’s daily schedules, according to one psychologist, can be almost as disturbing as the fire itself. “One of the most important things is for the children to have as normal a day as possible,” said Lynne White-Rosenberg, Topanga Elementary’s psychologist who is part of the crisis team counseling students there this week. “This has been a very traumatic experience for a lot of these children.”

Members of the crisis team, which includes three district psychologists, a private psychologist and four parents who are professional therapists, will be at the school all week, visiting classrooms and meeting with students in small groups. Children also shared their feelings about the fire with their classmates by drawing pictures and writing stories about their fears.

At least one child, 9-year-old Noah Kaplan, lost more than a sense of security.

“My grandma’s house in Malibu is total ashes,” said Noah, a fourth-grader. “I’m really sad about it because I lived there for eight years.”

Graham Walzer, a 7-year-old, said he worried during the fire that his house would burn down. He had a trophy for all of his trauma, which he brought to school. It was a patch from one of the Newport Beach firefighters who used his Viewridge house as a staging ground, sleeping on the lawn and sharing breakfast with the family. But his mother, Karen Walzer, said even though the house was saved, something was lost. “Even if the fire is out, the fact that something so precious is so vulnerable is really scary,” she said.

Their children in class, clusters of parents lingered outside the school, sharing their own tales of evacuating their homes and being separated from their children.

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“It’s like . . . childbirth,” said Shirley Wiebe, as she gathered with three other women. “You’ve got to talk about it. It’s really scary. You see your friends and you experience it all over again.”

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