Schools are burning, libraries, restaurants, stores, churches, state parks, mobile homes, senior centers, apartment complexes, horses, mountain lions. People will die. Lives are being destroyed.
As I write in the early morning hours, fire crews aren’t working to stop Malibu from burning. Or the Palisades, Topanga, Pasadena or Altadena. They can’t. There is not time and no way to do so. They are attempting to save lives as the winds howl and embers fly through the canyons.
I just got word that an artist friend’s home is on fire, many more are under evacuation orders.
Hurricane-level winds of up to 100 mph make the flame’s path almost impossible to predict. I smell smoke in our home, even though we aren’t in a danger zone. A collision of climate factors – a record-hot summer and bone-dry winter are worsening matters. Fire season here typically ends by November, but it’s January, and we’ve had no significant rain in nearly eight months.
This is shaping up to be a firestorm that will forever alter this city. Not just the wealthy in their coastal enclaves, but all of us. The scars will run deep and be long-lasting, and of course, as Mike Davis would have pointed out, the poorest among us will suffer the most.
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