Flash Floods Washed Away Lives, Dreams

A group of friends gathered Christmas Day at a church campsite in Waterman Canyon. They planned to lunch on tamales and breathe in the crisp air while their children played in the shadow of the San Bernardino Mountains.

They arrived about 11 a.m., invited by the campsite’s caretaker, who knew most of the guests through a San Bernardino church popular with Mexican and Guatemalan immigrants. There was a light rain, so they moved the celebration into the caretaker’s apartment.

The rain intensified in the afternoon, and with it the sky grew dark. About 2 p.m., as some guests sat on a porch, a wall of mud, boulders and trees as long as 40 feet came tumbling down. The flash flood washed away two buildings filled with Christmas partygoers. Some climbed to safety. Others were pulled out by rescuers. Thirteen died -- eight of them children. An 11-year-old boy is still missing.

A few hours later, another flash flood hit the KOA campsite in nearby Devore. More than 30 trailers washed away, and 52 people had to be rescued. Two people died.

Here are the stories of those who perished in the Christmas Day floods.

The Monzons

The Monzon family came to California from Tiquisate, Guatemala, about 10 years ago, settling in the San Fernando Valley. But Jorge Monzon relished the outdoors, and he jumped at the chance to be caretaker of a creek-side campsite owned by St. Sofia Greek Orthodox Church.

The family began looking after the rustic encampment in 1997 and quickly made it their home.

Jorge, 41, often took his black-spotted dog, Captain, out to hunt bears with a paint gun; his wife, Clara Monzon, 40, told friends she liked the chilly winters.

When wildfires surrounded the camp in October, church members urged the Monzons to evacuate and stay with them. They declined.

“They were very happy up there, and they stayed,” said Judith Garcia, a secretary and member of the San Bernardino church where the family worshiped, Iglesia de Dios de la Profecia.

The Monzons organized the Christmas party. The entire household died in the flood, including daughter Wendy, 17, daughter Raquel, 9, and son Jeremias, 8 months.

Jorge Monzon told friends and family that he had had a personal encounter with Jesus Christ 10 years ago. The one-time construction worker then helped build his church.

Jorge Monzon, who almost always wore his big, floppy leather hat, would bellow Spanish folk songs in a hearty baritone. He greeted friends by shouting “Varon!” (Guy!) from far away and fixed them with a broad grin.

Clara was reserved and greeted people with just a smile. She was devoted to the church and helped organize weddings. Friends said she worked at a nearby factory.

The Monzons considered 8-month-old Jeremias a special blessing. Jorge, especially, had wanted a boy for years. At their last Sunday service Dec. 21, Jorge Monzon lifted up his new baby boy as he prayed, said Martha Ruedas, a pastor at the Monzons’ church and a family friend of eight years.

The Monzons, however, were a little embarrassed by the baby’s loud crying, so they moved from their usual spot in the front of the church to the back.

When 17-year-old Wendy arrived from Guatemala several weeks ago, the family was ecstatic.

“They were so happy. It was another prayer that had been answered,” Martha Ruedas said. Jorge and Clara had left behind two children in Guatemala when they came to California.

Twice, the girls had tried unsuccessfully to make it to the United States, friends said. The third time, Wendy came alone and made it.

Peter Koulos, a member of St. Sophia’s camp committee, saw the family three weeks ago.

“Clara and Raquel were out stapling tree lights and Jorge was standing below, telling them to be careful,” Koulos said.

The Juarezes

Gilberto Juarez did not belong to Jorge Monzon’s church, but the two formed a bond while growing up together in Guatemala. Juarez and Monzon easily picked up their friendship years later in San Bernardino, and Juarez eagerly accepted an invitation to the Christmas gathering, according to relatives.

Juarez, 40, arrived with his wife, Rosa Najera-Juarez, 40, and their two daughters, Stephanie, 3, and Katherine, 7. As they mixed with the other celebrants, the light rain began to turn into a downpour. When Juarez heard the roar of water and saw a wave of mud and rocks rushing down onto the campground, he grabbed the younger girl and ran for high ground. Rosa and Katherine tried to run, but didn’t make it.

Rosa had left Guatemala about 12 years ago and settled in Los Angeles, where she met Gilberto.

“She was happy here,” said Cesar Linares, her brother-in-law. “She had her children, her home, her husband. What else could you ask for?”

Linares said his sister-in-law had been known for her generosity. “If you had a sick son, she would tell you how to take care of him,” he said. “If you needed a ride, she would give it to you.”

Rosa was a stay-at-home mom who also made and sold artificial flower arrangements. Gilberto works in construction.

Neighbor Mildred Haleman, 80, said she used to walk up and down the street with Rosa for exercise. Haleman didn’t know Spanish; Rosa didn’t know English. So they tried to teach each other words. Haleman said Rosa had recently been taking weekly English classes.

The day after the flood, Gilberto Juarez returned to the campsite to look in vain for his wife and daughter. Searchers recovered their bodies the next day.

The Camachos and the Mezas

Jose Carlos Camacho, 33, and Ramon Meza, 29, were connected, and not just by their roots in the Mexican state of Nayarit. They married sisters -- Rocio and Dunia -- and were active members of the Iglesia de Dios de la Profecia church.

They were shy, pastors said, but forever eager to help with even the smallest of tasks, such as moving tables and serving as church ushers. Meza’s son Edgar David, 11, often appeared in church plays. Camacho and Ramon Meza also played on a soccer team with other parishioners.

Other church members occasionally teased Meza about his love for the sport, said Pastor Martha Ruedas. “Sometimes he’d be running late for church because he was watching the soccer game.”

The two men died in the Christmas flash flood. Edgar David Meza is still missing but presumed dead.

Ramon Meza was “a hard-working, caring man who was always there for his church and his family,” said Pastor Emilio Ruedas.

Salvador Marin, 43, met Meza at the church and was cheered by the sight of his smiling face. “It was a complete smile,” Marin said. “He didn’t open his mouth much, but it took up his face.”

The father of three was working in construction, friends said.

Jose Carlos Camacho also had worked in construction, but he was trying to become an air-conditioner repairman. He had been taking vocational classes and recently landed a job interview.

For the last few months, Camacho had been thinking about moving to Oregon because he was tired of the stress and congestion of Southern California, said sister-in-law Josefina Camacho. Jose Carlos had visited their family a couple of times up there, she said, each time admiring the trees, sweet air and quiet.

Camacho’s wife, Rocio, and 7-year-old daughter Yamileth didn’t want to go to the Monzons’ campsite because it was too cold, Josefina Camacho said. Jose Carlos, however, tramped off to Waterman Canyon in a T-shirt and shorts.

“I’m going to miss him a lot,” Josefina Camacho said, adding that she admired her brother-in-law’s “muy humano” (very humane) way of dealing with people. “When he could help, he would help.”

The Navarros, Ivan Avila

and Miguel Cambron

Ricardo Navarro arrived at the campsite with two of his children, Jose Pablo and Yoleila. He also brought along nephews Ivan Avila and Miguel Cambron.

All five were trapped when the floodwaters hit.

Ricardo Navarro was rescued from a pile of rocks and trees by firefighters. But 11-year-old Jose Pablo and his 7-year-old sister Yoleila perished, along with 13-year-old Ivan Avila, of Los Angeles, and 13-year-old Miguel Cambron, of San Bernardino.

The Navarros were active in the church. Young Jose Pablo Navarro insisted on getting to church on time, and would ride his bike the five or so blocks from his one-story stucco San Bernardino house if his parents were running late, said church member Judith Garcia. The boy, who liked wearing ties, often showed up a little sweaty in his Sunday best, eager to listen to Bible stories. During the church’s Easter service, the boy sang in the choir with his sister.

When Garcia asked her Sunday school class to write a letter to their parents, Jose Pablo Navarro wrote about how much he admired his father.

“His letter made everyone cry,” she said.

Yoleila was a baby when her parents joined the church and grew up in its care, church members said. The shy girl usually wore her hair pulled into buns on either side of her head.

She followed her older brother Armando around everywhere, family friends said. Although Sunday school classes were divided by age, Yoleila would always sit in the same class as Armando.

“She was happy just being there,” Garcia said.

On Christmas Day, while the rest of the family went to the camp party, Armando and his mother, Leticia, decided to stay at their San Bernardino home.

Miguel Cambron lived in San Bernardino with his mother and three younger sisters. His father died two years ago, and the young boy came to think of himself as the guardian of his mother and three younger sisters, said Miguel’s aunt, Alma Olivares. “He always thought of himself as the man of the house,” she said.

Ivan Avila’s family -- including his father and two brothers -- is still struggling to come to terms with his death. Pedro Avila, 42, could barely speak about his son when reached at a mortuary where the family was holding a wake.

“Everything about him was nice,” Avila said. “What can I say? All my sons are special.”

Janice Stout-Bradley

During the wildfires, KOA Kampsite manager Janice Stout-Bradley, 60, was the last to leave, making sure all of those at the Devore campgrounds had been evacuated first. When rains on Christmas Day sent a rush of mud and boulders from the charred slopes around the campsite, the KOA site manager again was trying to make sure others made it out.

The last time camp resident and employee Lyle Stredwick saw Bradley, she was standing at her trailer and telling him to warn those in the trailers at the northern end of the park. “That was the last I saw of her,” Stredwick said.

Bradley and her boyfriend, Doug Pooch, were standing on their porch when a mudslide swept them away. Pooch managed to climb out.

Friends and relatives described Bradley as a big-hearted woman who frequently volunteered to feed the needy at places such as Mary’s Kitchen in San Bernardino.

“She would give the shirt off her back to any person,” said Bradley’s daughter, Tonya Best. “Her home was always open for whoever needed a place to stay.”

Scheduled to become the 2004 president of the San Bernardino Rotary Breakfast Club, Bradley had worked at the Devore site for about 12 years and had raised a menagerie of animals there, including horses, mules and bulls. Bradley, Pooch and her son, Tim Barnes, were supposed to come down to her daughter’s house in Corona for Christmas dinner. Kari Best said her grandmother had told them the road out of their campsite had washed out and they were trying to find higher ground. “This is worse than the fires,” Bradley had said.

Carol Eugene Nuss

Insurance adjuster Carol Eugene Nuss came from Wellington, Kans., about a month ago to handle claims from the Southern California wildfires. He was staying at the KOA campsite with his wife, two of their children, his wife’s sister and two dogs.

Nuss had only recently become an insurance adjuster. The father of three had run a heating and air-conditioning business until last year, when an injury forced him to try a new profession.

On Christmas, Nuss and his family were watching the downpour from their recreational vehicle when he noticed three trailers sliding downhill, said his wife, Bev Nuss. He grabbed a flashlight and ran outside.

“He said to me, ‘Oh my God, those kids are in that trailer,’ ” Bev Nuss said. Their RV slid 50 yards and crashed into a tree while Carol Nuss was outside, but the family was helped to safety.

The family later learned no one was in the trailers Nuss had seen sliding. They spent the rest of the day frantically calling hospitals around the region, trying to find him.

“It didn’t surprise me when Mom said he was outside,” said daughter Mylea Hawn. “He left, but he didn’t realize how bad it was.”

Times staff writers Daren Briscoe, Hector Becerra, Monte Morin, Lance Pugmire and Louis Sahagun contributed to this report.