I have lived in Pasadena for thirty years, and in Altadena for ten of those years. I have watched the fire season close-up for all that time and understand what just happened in January of 2025. It makes me angry when erstwhile politicians peddle lies and disinformation out of their complete ignorance and are believed by their followers who don’t know any better. I would like to set the record straight for those in other parts of the country who would actually like to know the truth.
Altadena is a community settled right in the foothills of southern California. From my house in Rubio Canyon, I could walk for five minutes and be on hiking trails in the mountains. These mountains are covered, not with forests, but with chaparral. If you don’t know what chaparral is, go watch an old cowboy movie with tumbleweed rolling around, and you’ll be close. Chaparral is scrub brush, grasses, and small hardened trees that grow up over the course of a year. There was no issue with “forest management” here, despite what some politicians like to claim. It is what covers these mountains on a yearly basis, if left alone. And I used to hike through this landscape every day.
Fire is not an unusual thing in these mountains. Every few years or so, fires will start in the mountains and sweep down toward our communities. I myself remember watching the Station fire in 2009 come as close as the ridge just above my house. Fire is not an unhealthy thing in the backcountry, and I’m told it actually makes the hills fire-resistant for several years after it burns. I’m not sure how one does that kind of “controlled-burn” so close to a community, but it is an open question.
These mountains are also phenomenally windy. On a windy day, it would sound like a freight train coming down out of the mountains. But last Tuesday wasn’t just a windy day—there were hurricane gusts of up to 100 mph, the kind of wind in which it is almost impossible to stand up straight. We were clearing our back patio in this wind, and I can only compare it to standing on the top of Mammoth Mountain at 11,000+ feet in the middle of a blizzard, because I’ve done that as well.
Moreover, it was exceptionally dry. We have had two record-setting years of rain. The reservoirs are at historic levels—we have plenty of water. And record-setting rains lead to record-setting chaparral growth. But we haven’t had any rain since approximately last May. And we had a record-setting heat wave last summer, with several weeks on end of 100+ degree days. I’ve never, ever seen that during the whole time I’ve lived in southern California. In years past, we would have several days in August of 100+ degree days, not several weeks on end.
All of that to say, it was a perfect storm. And this time, the fire didn’t start way back in the mountains, where they could have mounted an organized defense, but right down in Eaton Canyon, just over the ridge from my old house. The wind caused a fire tsunami that no one and nothing could have stopped. A community that has been there for generations went up in smoke in the blink of an eye.
We drove home from dinner, dodging tree branches falling in the road, and smoke from a mile away pouring across our field of sight. When we arrived home, we saw the blaze on the mountain as it had just begun. I knew exactly where it was—I had hiked there many times. I knew what was going to happen.
I am told that helicopters can’t fly in over 30 to 40 mph winds, and these gusts far exceeded that. The wind carried embers and started one hundred house fires and more every few minutes. No fire department could keep up with that. A hose aimed at a fire in that kind of wind will do nothing, and the flow rate of a hydrant is not inexhaustible. As an architect friend said to me, “A hydrant with a really amazing flow rate of 6000 might be able to cover 50,000 SF of wood-framed homes, but if you open several hydrants, the residual flow drops dramatically.” People were also evacuating and the streets heading south were parking lots. Grid lock. I was driving north to get to my house and saw them all heading south.
What happened had been coming for a long time, but it wasn’t that we were unprepared. The truth is that it wasn’t really something that could be prepared for. Clearing the brush away from one’s house would have done nothing. It was almost inevitable. The insurance companies knew this too, which is why our homeowner’s insurance rates went up by 40% last year, not just in Altadena, but in Pasadena too. Insurance companies understand climate change. They knew this was coming.
Altadena is largely wiped out. Half of my old street is gone, including my old house, the house where I raised my children. This is a community that is deeply suffering, and their suffering is made worse by the lies spewing out of the mouths of leaders from the other side of the aisle. While the fires were raging, the incoming president was rage-tweeting on social media at our governor, “release the water!” as if our reservoirs weren’t already full, as if he was preventing us from having adequate water to fight the fires. And his vitriol has led to the proliferation of other conspiracy theories, like the claim that fire engines from Oregon weren’t being allowed in the state because they didn’t meet emission standards, another blatant falsehood.
So before you listen to the lies of the incoming president, who wants to earn political capital by taking down the leaders of California, listen to someone who actually understands what happened, someone who has been on site for a long time. Listen to me.