Suspicion of Arson Rattles Tight-Knit Elfin Forest Area

The starting point for Monday’s tragic San Diego firestorm is an idyllic settlement of several hundred families, where residents--many of them refugees from faceless suburban tracts--have worked hard to create a sense of community.

United by Christmas parties and Independence Day parades, a spirited town council and a volunteer fire department, the folks of Elfin Forest are proud to live without sidewalks and traffic lights in a region of small estates zoned for horses, a few llamas, and a 640-acre Christian wilderness retreat.

Until recently, the greatest problem the locals squared up against was an occasional high-density development plan. But now a new threat hangs in the air, which is still thick with the smell of charred brush. Many residents, and firefighters, suspect that the worst fire in San Diego history was the work of an arsonist, and it happened in their own backyard.

“We’ve got a loony running around here,” said Gary Johnson, who manages the Elfin Forest campground and trailer park. “If we get hold of him, you’ll know who he is. He’ll be like one of those burning bunnies running out of the brush.”

With the fire at last under control, investigators Wednesday interviewed local firefighters and combed through the cinder-covered hillside off Harmony Grove Road where they determined the fire began early Monday afternoon.

Accidental causes, such as a tossed cigarette or a spark from a passing car, have not been ruled out, but investigators have classified the fire as suspicious and are looking for signs of arson.

Any roadside fire, especially in an isolated location, raises the possibility of arson, said Gary Eidsmoe, an investigator with the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection. But in this case, there is even more cause for concern: In June, during an unseasonably early Santa Ana wind, a fire was set less than 100 yards from the origin of Monday’s fire.

That June fire burned a small hillside; no structures were lost. But on Monday, winds blew waves of flame over a series of ridges, and the blaze eventually consumed 76 houses, at least 10 of which were in the Elfin Forest-Harmony Grove area.

“It’s one of these isolated stretches of road, that, living here, scares the tar out of me,” said Bob Kedhart, a lieutenant with the local volunteer fire department. “It’s vulnerable to people who don’t know the consequences of their actions--or they do.”

Nona Barker, a volunteer firefighter who worked through the night Monday with her husband, Steve, said the firestorm had sparked a rash of “fire fear,” especially among children, and that many would need counseling to overcome it. One little girl had to be brought back to her home against her will by her mother, said Barker, who spent a tearful night with her own 17-year-old daughter Tuesday.

“I’m sure everybody is very fearful of it now,” said Barker, who runs an outdoor luggage company, owns 16 pet llamas and heads the local Fire Advisory Board. “It’s always in the back of everybody’s mind. I’m not afraid of it. It [angers me]. It makes me sad.”

The 2,000-strong community--named not for tiny spirits but for the thick vegetation that covers its hills--is an eclectic mix of professionals, entrepreneurs, artists and New Age mystics who have built their custom homes into the canyons and hills of the rolling countryside. Most homes have at least a few children, along with horses, dogs, cats and chickens.

Originally home to a Christian retreat and a few reclusive artists, the valley experienced a minor building boom a decade ago.

“When we first came here in ‘83, we felt like we were living in a construction zone,” said Nona Barker, who moved from Solana Beach in search of a community where people knew their neighbors.

Development has slowed recently, although the hills are still dotted with dozens of real-estate signs. And most residents say the town, which is actually an unincorporated area of the county governed by the Board of Supervisors, is just as big as they want it.

With no shopping mall, gas station, movie theater or video arcade, Elfin Forest offers few diversions to interfere with quality family and community time. It does have an organized play group for preschoolers and communitywide carpools for older children, and carnivals and parties to mark nearly every holiday.

“Here everybody knows everybody else, and everybody looks out for each other,” Barker said. “We have a very strong community.”

In the panic of Monday’s events, neighbors took time to check on each other’s homes, transporting pet dogs, cats, and even horses to safety.

“There was a wall of fire coming down that ridge, moving as fast as I could sprint,” said Bill Browning, whose home was gutted. “Everybody was running and screaming. It was the scariest thing I ever saw.”

As they straggled back home Tuesday and Wednesday, many stunned residents drove to the top of nearby Paint Mountain to look down on the rolling hillsides of Elfin Forest and survey the damage.

“I can’t believe they saved the Vadis’ house,” Peggy Petitmermet whispered to a friend, scanning the patchwork of gray ash and green landscaping. “And the Olson place is still standing, too.”

Some homeowners had hung out signs expressing gratitude to the firefighters who saved their homes. Others stopped by the station to do the same.

“People are coming by in tears saying, ‘Who do I thank?’ ” said Alice Corteau, 55, a member of the fire auxiliary, which like the force, is composed of both men and women. “Grown men could barely get the words out.”

When people were allowed back Tuesday, neighbors overjoyed at finding their homes intact yelled out jubilant cheers that echoed in the valleys, Corteau said. “It was very emotional,” she said.