3 fire evacuees describe the devastation: 'Our entire town appears to be gone.'
- Fires in Los Angeles and Southern California have destroyed over 1,000 structures.
- Business Insider spoke with three residents about their experiences fleeing the scene.
- They called it terrifying, devastating, and apocalyptic.
The fires storming through Los Angeles and Southern California have left over 1,000 structures burned, at least two people dead, and tens of thousands of others displaced as they heed mandatory evacuation orders.
Business Insider spoke with three people who encountered the devastating impacts of the blaze firsthand. Their words have been edited for length and clarity.
Alisa Wolfson, a journalist, lives in the Palisades with her husband and two daughters, ages 7 and 10. They evacuated to a friend's home and then the Beverly Hilton before losing their home in the fire.
My husband and I both grew up in the Palisades and bought our home there in 2018. My mom's still there, too. We love our neighborhood, and there's a strong sense of community. There's a reason that it's impossible to buy in and that Bill Hader lives on our street. It was like a storybook — too good to be true.
I was sitting in my home office Tuesday looking out the window when a girlfriend called me to see if I had heard that there was a fire nearby. I looked up and saw a little thing of smoke, but I thought we'd be fine. Within 10 minutes, it grew beyond what I ever thought was possible. I went out to the street and could see that the nearby hillside was engulfed in flames. I called my husband at work and said, "You need to come home right now."
Very quickly, it turned into all of our neighbors on the street throwing things in their cars and driving off. It was terrifying. I grabbed our dog Gus and just as I was leaving, my neighbor across the street called and asked me to pick up her dog since she wasn't home. I went back into my house, got her key, and put her dog in the car.
A friend whose daughter goes to the same school as mine picked our girls up, and we met at her house, which was just outside the evacuation zone. We put all the dogs in the yard, and the girls played with their friends. I thought we'd just camp out for a few hours — but then things started to look terrible really quickly. Around 1 p.m., my husband borrowed our friend's e-bike and rode to our house to see if there was anything he could do and to grab a few things left behind. He saw tons of smoke, firemen, and the hillsides burning — it was really wild.
We stayed at our friend's house until they lost power, then checked into the Beverly Hilton. It was like all of West Los Angeles had descended upon the hotel — it took 40 minutes just to pull into the driveway.
We paid $560 for the night for a room with two beds, which doesn't seem outrageous to me. They've been wonderful here. They greeted everyone in line, handing out water bottles. Henry Winkler was checking in ahead of me, and Cisco Adler's here. It's like a real LA tale. My mom is staying in the room next door with her dog — the number of dogs in this hotel right now is insane.
The front page of the LA Times featured a house on our street in flames. The images looked apocalyptic. Our daughters kept asking, "Is our house safe?" but we weren't sure.
This afternoon, a neighbor who rode his bike into the neighborhood confirmed it: We've lost our home. Our neighbors have been texting that they have too. I'm utterly devastated and in a state of shock, barely functional. I haven't been able to break the news to my daughters yet. I don't know where everyone in our community is going to go. Our entire town appears to be gone.
This isn't something that should be happening. People need to elect local officials who really care about the climate and do what's needed to prepare for or prevent events like this. Last night, my husband asked me, "Where do you think you want to spend the rest of your life?" We have family in Connecticut, and last night it crossed my mind — do we just bail and start fresh? I don't know. For now, we're just taking it hour by hour.
'It was like the apocalypse, in a way''
Katie Cassidy, an actor and close friend of Alisa Wolfson, lives three minutes away from Wolfson in the Palisades. On Tuesday afternoon, she and her significant other evacuated to her parents' home in another part of Los Angeles.
My significant other, who is Canadian, woke up around 10:15 a.m. and said, "Oh my gosh, this weather is so beautiful, and the wind is so nice," and I was like, "Oh no, wind is not good." I was born and raised in Los Angeles, so I'm aware of fires and the Santa Ana winds, especially around this time of year.
I went outside and smelled smoke. My close friend Alisa lives up the street, so I called to check on her and her family. Moments later, firetruck after firetruck and helicopter after helicopter passed by. My gut knew that this was not good. I started to pack away our things and valuables.
We kept our eye on the situation. There were more helicopters and more smoke. The sky turned darker and red, and we started seeing ashes.
Around noon, my partner looked out the window and said, "Babe, there are people running down the streets with their suitcases and bags and kids and strollers." We threw everything in the car, brought our cats and dog, and left.
Luckily, my parents live in another part of Los Angeles, so we came here. We later saw on the news that the people we saw running down the street were people who'd abandoned their cars on Sunset Boulevard because they were stuck in traffic. It was really terrifying and devastating to see; it was like the apocalypse, in a way.
I wish I would've left earlier. I was trying to get a better gauge of what was going on and trying not to panic. People need to be aware and not be stubborn and stay in their homes thinking it'll never happen because it will; it's happened to me. I don't know if our house is still there, but if it isn't, it'll be the second home I've lived in that has burned to the ground in LA; my childhood home in Bell Canyon burned down in a fire some years after we sold it.
Even though my parents' place is safe at the moment, the winds can change. Our bags are packed, and we're ready to move with our fur babies when and if need be. At the end of the day, we're just grateful to be alive.
'There's only so much you can take'
Adam Wood, a 45-year-old film producer, director, and editor, lives in North Hollywood and helped his friend evacuate from Pasadena early Wednesday morning.
Everyone was aware there was a fire building in Altadena around late Tuesday afternoon, and we've had issues up there before. My friend has an urban farm up there that houses rabbits, pigs, and chickens. My thoughts and concerns were with him — if he had to get out, he'd need as much help as possible. I went over there in the early evening Tuesday to help.
At first, evacuators didn't think the fire would come down toward where we were, but at around 2:45 in the morning, we got the evacuation order through an alert on the phone. Then a fire official knocked on the door, and we had about half an hour to pack as much as we could, including a young pig, into the back of my friend's Tesla.
Thankfully, we got everyone out, and all the animals got out OK. My friend had already packed his documents and anything of physical value in his wife's SUV and his Tesla. The chickens were huddled together in one cage, and the rabbits were also hutched in one of the cars.
His wife and two kids were also there, and they all took a bunch of personal items, a suitcase each, and some computers. Of course, there's only so much you can take. The cars were jam-packed, but much of their personal property had to be left behind.
As we drove away, it was pretty hectic given that it was a rush and the whole neighborhood was also leaving at the same time. Thankfully it wasn't replicable to the scenes in the Palisades where people abandoned their cars. But the glow of the fires was visible on the horizon, and smoke filled the air.
He lives in a very nice house, and God knows if that still exists.
Now, there is the Woodley fire, which is closer to my home, so we are keeping a watchful eye on my place and hoping we won't need to evacuate ourselves.