Some Homes Had Shields to Ward Off Wildfires

Amid the ashes of the most costly wildfires in California’s history lies evidence of a crucial lesson: Fire-resistant construction and vigilant removal of flammable vegetation significantly improved the odds of a home’s survival, according to a Times analysis of fire records from more than 2,300 destroyed structures.

The impression left by an out-of-control fire racing through communities can be one of random destruction, with one house, or a whole block, burned to the ground and the next one spared for no apparent reason.

In fact, according to the Times analysis -- which covered homes destroyed by the deadliest of the blazes, San Diego County’s Cedar fire -- houses built since 1990 were far less likely to burn than those constructed in any previous decade. Houses built during the 1990s were damaged or destroyed at less than half the rate of houses built earlier. Houses constructed during the current decade were even less likely to have been harmed.

The analysis found that:

* Vegetation was the largest single factor in whether a house burned. Almost nine of 10 houses destroyed outside San Diego city limits had flammable vegetation within 30 feet, and two-thirds had flammable vegetation within 10 feet, according to county field inspections of houses where the vegetation line before the fire could be determined. (City inspectors did not note the presence of vegetation.)

* Exterior wood also played a large part in the destruction. San Diego city and county inspectors said more than 45% of the homes that were destroyed had wood siding. Inspectors did not compile comparative information about houses that survived.

* Composition roofs, a type generally considered more resistant to fire than wood, proved vulnerable. These roofs, made of layered tar paper or tar-based shingles, were on nearly 60% of the burned houses. By contrast, houses with tile or other ceramic roofs accounted for fewer than 20% of the burned homes. Fire experts say ceramic roofs, although they did not provide perfect protection, substantially reduced risk.

Although any house, no matter how well-built, could succumb to 100-foot flames, the lessons of the fall fires support experience that “if you have 30-foot clearance and a good roof, you have a 95% chance of survival,” said Richard Montague, a consultant who prepares fire management plans for housing developments.

The newer construction comes at a cost, as heavy tile or composite roofs, unadorned masonry walls and wide bands of noncombustible plantings displace the rustic aesthetic of older homes built to blend in with the chaparral landscape.

As rebuilding moves forward, fire officials are trying to balance enforcement of fire codes and brush clearance rules with the desires of homeowners to replicate the look and feel of their destroyed homes. The dilemma is particularly acute in tightly spaced canyon communities, where one property owner’s prized tree can fall within another’s safety zone.

Fire chiefs face difficult choices, particularly about asking residents to uproot trees, officials said.

The decision comes down to “a level of acceptability,” said San Diego County Fire Services Coordinator Ralph Steinhoff. “How safe is safe?”

A partial answer to that question can be seen by comparing the fates of two communities engulfed in the wind-blown fury of the Cedar fire five months ago.

Harbison Canyon, where more than half the houses were built before 1970 and about 47% before 1960, according to San Diego County assessor’s records, lost almost every other house.

Talon’s Reach, a development constructed last year and still unfinished when the fire hit, remained nearly intact.

Homes lining a creek bed under canopies of eucalyptus and native oak in Harbison Canyon were all but defenseless. More than half were destroyed when the fire swept through the narrow canyon in October.

Age was a strong indicator of vulnerability. Houses that burned in Harbison Canyon averaged nearly 45 years in age. More than half had wood siding, according to the damage assessments. The majority also had composition roofs.

“The lion’s share of houses remaining today” in the community survived “because they had defensible space” free of brush, said San Diego Rural Fire Chief Dave Nissen.

Pedro Calderon, 44, credits his lawn with saving his house.

“The grass was burning, but it only went five feet,” he said. “We had ice plants around the house too. That helped.”

By contrast, Rick Villalores, 61, said a line of eucalyptus trees doomed his house. The fire spread from the trees to his back fence and then to the eaves of his stucco-faced house, he said.

“I wish I had gone with a chain saw and cut them down,” he said. “But they were not my trees.”

Few of the houses that burned in Harbison Canyon would have met the county’s current fire safety code for new houses, which requires the highest class of fire-resistant roofing, fire-resistant exteriors and 100 feet of clearance from brush.

By contrast, Talon’s Reach, a subdivision in the hills above Interstate 8 a few miles east of El Cajon, embodied the latest fire regulations, including a fire management plan developed by Montague’s consulting firm, Firewise 2000 Inc.

Using fuel-modeling formulas developed by the U.S. Forest Service to determine the length and intensity of flames that could threaten a development, Montague guided decisions on where to place homes and how much vegetation to clear. The homeowners association is required to monitor compliance.

The Cedar fire burned through the development but spared its 43 new stucco and tile homes. All but three came through undamaged. Two of those that burned were unfinished structures ignited by construction debris.

Similar patterns were found in other San Diego County burned areas.

On a street where houses were built in the 1980s -- El Capitan Real Road northeast of El Cajon -- only one burned even as flames raced down gullies behind homes on both sides of the street.

Though as much as 20 years old, most of the houses there have the distinctive tile roofs, uncluttered stucco walls and nonnative ground covers that inhibit ignition.

“I expected all of these houses to go, given the flames,” said Don Bear, 71. Brush burned within 40 feet of his house and stopped, he said.

Bear praised his neighbors for trimming their yards and then marveled at the gray stucco exterior and cement tile roof of his own 16-year-old house. He hadn’t paid much attention to the construction material when he bought the property, but he said he was glad for it now.

“I think construction was a factor,” he said. “I did notice there was no space on the eaves for the heat to get into the attic.”

For decades, San Diego County was governed by a patchwork of fire safety codes that varied significantly among communities and were considered difficult to enforce. The codes were strengthened in recent years.

But in many communities, existing homes were exempted from the tougher rules or, in the case of brush clearance, given less stringent requirements.

The demonstrable value of the new building code puts county planning officials in a bind when reviewing the rebuilding plans of fire victims.

So far, 341 applications have been submitted, and the San Diego County planning department has issued 244 permits.

Trying to make rebuilding as easy as possible, the county has waived permit fees and expedited reviews. Officials have also let older houses be rebuilt with smaller property-line setbacks than would be required under current zoning codes.

“It met standards in the 1950s, and just because there was a fire, it didn’t seem fair to hold them to today’s standards,” said Scott Gilmore, San Diego County planning department permit process coordinator.

Cliff Hunter, who used to serve as the county’s fire services coordinator and is now a fire marshal in Rancho Santa Fe, foresees a difficult balancing act.

“Some people don’t have space to clear 100 feet, because habitat is close ... or people want to build ... bigger or people don’t have enough water or a big enough septic system. That’s difficult to deal with.”

For Becky Hilburn of Crest, east of San Diego, the lessons of the fire are clear. Her 9-year-old house is still standing, while many around it are gone.

As the sounds of rebuilding filled the air of her neighborhood one day recently, Hilburn recalled how her father had proudly pointed a blowtorch at the wall of the then-new house to show how impervious it was to fire.

The taupe-colored siding, made of a cement-based material, wasn’t even scorched.

When the fire raged through like a giant blowtorch, the siding proved itself.

As houses made of more combustible materials went up in flames on three sides of Hilburn’s home, the cement sheathing stood up to the flames that licked at her house.

Hilburn, 56, is grateful to some neighbors who stayed behind to douse hot spots.

But first, she credits someone else.

“I thank God for a father who planned ahead,” she said.