Blaze has crews, residents on the run

Karen Cayley, 55, a lifelong California resident, figured that a wildfire might come for her one day. She thought she knew the drill.

There would be some kind of advance warning, she thought. Even if she had to evacuate her home in Agua Dulce, between Santa Clarita and Palmdale, she would be able to collect a few essentials -- family photos, pets -- before leaving.

She had just started loading up Sunday and had her dog inside the car, when a firefighter approached.

“Go now,” he ordered her. “Don’t take anything. Just go.”

And she did -- so quickly that she had to leave everything else behind, including photos and two cats.

Of more than a dozen wind-swept firestorms that erupted across Southern California on Sunday, none, it appeared by nightfall, was more ferocious than the one dubbed the Buckweed fire.

The flames moved so rapidly that firefighters had to move their command center five times to keep ahead of the fire.

The blaze began shortly before 1 p.m. outside the small community of Agua Dulce. But amid 80-mph wind gusts, it ballooned rapidly into a powerful blaze that had churned through more than 12,500 acres, destroyed 25 structures and forced as many as 800 people from their homes.

Three residents had been reported hurt, including one who was severely burned, and one firefighter had been reported injured.

For the 400 firefighters who were on the lines, it looked to be a long night. They would be joined by 200 to 300 firefighters this morning.

Officials said that 3,800 homes were threatened, and wind gusts were expected to approach 100 mph.

“It’s making a run with the high winds,” said Los Angeles County Fire Department spokesman Chris Freeman.

By 7 p.m., the blaze had moved a full 10 miles west into Canyon Country, east of Santa Clarita. Smoke blanketed virtually the entire Santa Clarita Valley, and flames could be seen over numerous nearby ridges.

Paul Smith, 43, walked out of his house in the 19000 block of Newhouse Street in Canyon Country, about 5 p.m. Sunday and saw flames heading over a nearby ridge.

“It started off with a small flame,” he said. “Then it just started jumping and started smaller fires. Within five minutes, the whole ridge was on fire, and the flames were 100 feet tall.”

Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies ordered mandatory evacuations in Bouquet Canyon, San Francisquito Canyon and North Oaks Park in the Santa Clarita area.

Additional evacuations were suggested, though not required, in Agua Dulce, Green Valley and Copper Hills Canyon. About 100 residents had already sought shelter at an evacuation center at Saugus High School.

Many residents tried to stay behind and protect their homes, only to be overpowered by wind and flames.

Wayne Pennington, 51, tried to defend his Agua Dulce-area home by using a shovel to pile dirt on flames that were moving toward his home. He had to abandon the effort.

“I’m putting it in the hands of God and the fire department,” he said.

He was staying with a friend in Palmdale and, like many others, did not know if his home had been spared by nightfall.

By Sunday afternoon in Canyon Country, virtually everyone in the development was leaving, their cars packed with belongings and their headlights on to help them see through the smoke.

A few residents remained, most perched on their roofs to watch the fire.

John Metcalf, 61, has lived in the area more than 10 years.

Metcalf was packing his minivan with blankets, pictures, medication and computer hard-drives.

He has two rabbits -- C.C. and Patches -- and he wanted to be sure they weren’t left behind. He wasn’t sure if he was going to leave, though he had called friends to arrange a place to stay if he decided to.

“We want to be ready in case it happens,” he said. “This is the first time we’ve ever got this close.”

Brad Davidson, 38, works at a print shop in West Los Angeles. At his home in the 27000 block of Crosspath Street, just off Whites Canyon Road in Canyon Country, he was packing his family’s belongings into two cars.

The fire was about half a mile north when he got a call from his boss. “I think you’d better have someone else in tomorrow,” he told his boss. “You can’t see. You can’t hear. You can’t even breathe. There’s ash everywhere.”

His neighbor, Brian Smith, a motion picture grip who has lived in Canyon Country since 1981, patted the side of his white recreational vehicle.

“I guess,” he said, “we could live here.”

jason.song@latimes.com

jp.renaud@latimes.com

scott.gold@latimes.com