Living in Los Angeles during wildfire season is a stark reminder of how quickly life can change. While I sit safely in my midcity apartment, surrounded by the faint scent of ash and the comforting presence of my ginger cat, I can’t help but think of the thousands of Angelenos who haven’t been as lucky. As of now, 24 lives have been lost, and countless homes have been reduced to ashes. The contrast between my safety and their devastation is a humbling reminder of how fragile our sense of security can be.
For those of us living in disaster-prone areas—whether it’s wildfires, earthquakes, or hurricanes—preparation is key. A well-stocked go bag is essential. Think of it as your lifeline: a few days’ worth of clothes, critical documents like passports and birth certificates, medications, and supplies for kids and pets. If you have a car, keep it loaded with essentials—water (one gallon per person per day), non-perishable food, and a cooler. When the emergency alert blares on your phone, hesitation isn’t an option. Grab your bag, your loved ones, and go.
On January 7, the Santa Ana winds arrived, bringing with them an eerie sense of foreboding. These dry, hot winds are a familiar presence in Los Angeles, but this time, they felt different. As Raymond Chandler famously wrote in Red wind:
It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands’ necks.
Meteorologists warned that these winds would be unusually strong, and the threat of power outages loomed large. California’s power lines are vulnerable to high winds, which can topple trees and spark fires. Actually, the Eaton Fire, which erupted in the foothills of Altadena, may have been ignited by sparking power lines. Anticipating the worst, I stocked up on water and shelf-stable food—salty snacks included, because let’s face it, comfort food matters in a crisis.
As I loaded my car and coaxed my cat into her carrier, I made a split-second decision to grab a bag of books. with thousands of books lining my shelves, choosing just seven felt like an impossible task. But in moments like these, practicality trumps sentimentality.
Later that evening, I scrolled through Bluesky and came across a post by Benjamin Dreyer, a renowned author and copy editor who recently moved to LA. His photo of smoke billowing over the coastline was a grim reminder of the unfolding disaster. My response was far less poetic than Chandler’s: “Oh geez.”
What struck me most was how quickly the fires spread. Unlike previous years, when the Santa Anas would blow for days before a spark ignited, this time the flames erupted almost instantly. The combination of relentless winds and a severe lack of rain—a stark contrast to the wetter conditions of the past two years—turned the city into a tinderbox. The mountains, once lush with scrub, were now dry and brittle, fueling the inferno.
The Palisades Fire was the first to break out, ravaging the upscale neighborhood of Pacific Palisades. it was followed by the Eaton Fire in Altadena and another blaze in Sylmar.That night, I downloaded the Watch Duty app, checking it compulsively every time I woke up. The updates were a mix of relief and dread—relief that my area was still safe, dread for those who weren’t as lucky.
Living through a wildfire is a lesson in resilience and preparedness. It’s a reminder that while we can’t control nature, we can control how we respond to it. For those of us in disaster-prone areas, the time to prepare is now—not when the flames are at our doorstep.
Surviving the Inferno: A Personal Account of the Los angeles Wildfires
Table of Contents
- 1. Surviving the Inferno: A Personal Account of the Los angeles Wildfires
- 2. A Day of chaos and Courage
- 3. The Books That Mattered
- 4. Lessons from the Flames
- 5. A Meeting with Rupert Pole and Anaïs Nin’s Legacy
- 6. Raymond Chandler’s Signed Copy of Goodbye Mr. Chippendale
- 7. Anthony Bourdain’s A Cook’s Tour: A Personal Treasure
- 8. Thomas pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49: A Marked-Up Masterpiece
- 9. Don DeLillo’s Zero K: A Signed First Edition
- 10. A Desert Retreat and Literary Reflections
- 11. What specific moment in time does the title “Ader, a moment frozen in time” refer to within the context of the provided text?
- 12. Reflections on a Life Through Books
It was just past 3:30 a.m. when I woke to the unmistakable scent of a campfire. the air was thick with smoke, and I instinctively reached for a mask. Wildfire smoke is no ordinary haze—it’s a toxic cocktail of particles you don’t want anywhere near your lungs. By morning, a grim “Cloud of Doom” had settled over my neighborhood in central Los angeles. The city, nestled in a basin, was trapped under a suffocating blanket of ash and smoke, like a sooty pancake pressing down on us all.
A Day of chaos and Courage
Wednesday was a day of relentless tension. I spent hours glued to the local news, especially KCAL, which delivered extraordinary coverage.the situation was dire: powerful winds made aerial firefighting impossible, and ground crews were stretched thin. The combination of scorching heat and ferocious winds allowed the flames to spread unchecked. From the safety of my densely populated neighborhood, far from the immediate danger, I watched the chaos unfold.
Then, around 6 p.m., the Sunset Fire erupted in the Hollywood Hills. This blaze was alarmingly close to home. Evacuation orders were issued just 17 minutes later. while my area wasn’t directly affected, the evacuation zone included a heavily populated region nearby. If the fire spread south, I’d be caught in a frantic exodus. Rather than wait, I reached out to friends and secured a place to stay in Joshua Tree. As I hurriedly packed my car, my cat in tow, I made a split-second decision to grab a single bag of books.Out of hundreds—maybe thousands—I chose seven. Here’s why:
The Books That Mattered
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Me, Detective by Leslie T. White (1936)
This gritty memoir by a former LA district attorney investigator delves into high-profile cases, including the infamous Doheny murder-suicide. white’s no-nonsense style and the inclusion of graphic crime scene photos make it a unique relic of its time.My battered copy, purchased years ago for a mere $10, has since become a rare find.
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Great Jones Street by don DeLillo (1973)
DeLillo’s rock-and-roll novel tells the story of a superstar who vanishes into obscurity in New York’s East Village.My first-edition copy, complete with its retro 1973 dust jacket, isn’t valuable in the conventional sense—it’s worn and bears a Goodwill price tag. But its sentimental value is immeasurable.
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Henry & June from the unexpurgated diary of Anaïs Nin (1986 paperback)
This book holds a special place in my heart. In 1990, while canvassing for a nonprofit, I stumbled upon a stunning mid-century modern home in Silverlake. The homeowner, a kind, white-haired man, invited me in and donated generously. The house, with its cedar walls and reflecting pool, left an indelible impression. this book reminds me of that serendipitous encounter.
Lessons from the Flames
Wildfires are a stark reminder of nature’s power and unpredictability. They force us to confront what truly matters—our safety, our loved ones, and the irreplaceable items we hold dear. For me, those seven books symbolize more than just stories; they’re fragments of my history, pieces of a life I couldn’t bear to lose.
As the fires raged, I couldn’t help but reflect on the resilience of communities and the bravery of first responders. Their efforts,often under impossible conditions,are a testament to human courage. And while the flames may have receded, their impact lingers—a reminder to cherish what we have and prepare for the unexpected.
the wildfires didn’t just destroy; they revealed. They showed us what we’re made of and what we’re willing to fight for. And for that,I’m grateful.
Books have a unique way of carrying stories—not just within their pages, but in the memories and connections they create. One such collection of books, each with its own tale, offers a glimpse into the life of a passionate reader and the serendipitous moments that make these volumes so special.
A Meeting with Rupert Pole and Anaïs Nin’s Legacy
One of the most intriguing encounters in this collection involves Rupert Pole, the widower of the legendary writer Anaïs Nin. Pole, a spry 71-year-old at the time, struck up a conversation with the book’s owner, reminiscing about his life with Nin.He offered a book,cautioning that it was “racy,” to which the recipient confidently replied,“I could handle racy.” The book, inscribed by Pole, reads: “For Carolyn. Finally the real story—the missing Anais—the passionate woman. –Rupert Pole, June 1990.” This inscription reveals how deeply Nin remained in pole’s thoughts, even years after her passing.
Raymond Chandler’s Signed Copy of Goodbye Mr. Chippendale
Another gem in the collection is a copy of goodbye Mr. Chippendale by T.H. Robsjohn-Gibbings, featuring illustrations by Mary Petty. This book, mailed as a gift by an LA Times reader, appears to be signed by Raymond Chandler himself. After comparing the signature to those verified at a recent chandler auction, the owner is convinced of its authenticity. The book, a quirky addition to the collection, holds a special place as a connection to Chandler’s literary legacy.
Anthony Bourdain’s A Cook’s Tour: A Personal Treasure
Anthony Bourdain’s A Cook’s tour: In Search of the Perfect Meal is another cherished item, signed “To Carolyn” by the late chef and author. while the owner admits to barely remembering the reading, the inscription makes it a priceless keepsake. bourdain once remarked that his other book, Kitchen Confidential, was better, but this signed copy of A Cook’s Tour remains a treasured memento of his wit and culinary adventures.
Thomas pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49: A Marked-Up Masterpiece
Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49 holds a unique place in the collection. While not signed, this paperback edition is filled with handwritten notes and a folded paper towel bearing a faint trystero outline—dried blood from the owner’s tattoo session. This copy, despite its taped cover, is the most meaningful, as it captures the reader’s personal engagement with Pynchon’s enigmatic narrative.
Don DeLillo’s Zero K: A Signed First Edition
Don DeLillo’s Zero K, a first edition with a pristine jacket, is another highlight. The owner, a longtime DeLillo fan, was thrilled to attend his book tour and receive a signed copy. The novel, which explores themes of immortality, father-son relationships, and the excesses of wealth, feels even more relevant today. The inscription, though brief, is a testament to the connection between author and reader.
A Desert Retreat and Literary Reflections
Amidst the chaos of wildfires and power outages, the owner found solace in Joshua Tree, where the desert’s serene beauty provided a stark contrast to the turmoil. A walk through the desert and a visit to a blossoming farm offered a moment of peace. Though, the realization that the evacuation order had been lifted prompted a return home, where the collection of books awaited, each one a reminder of the stories and people that shape our lives.
These books, with their inscriptions, notes, and personal connections, are more than just objects—they are windows into the lives of their authors and the moments that make reading such a deeply personal experience.
it was a day like any other until the unexpected happened. I found myself rushing back home, desperate to refuel my car. The gas gauge was dangerously low, and I knew I couldn’t delay any longer. As I drove, my mind wandered to the things I held dear—my books. They weren’t just objects; they were pieces of my history, my passions, and my identity.
When it came to deciding what to save, I wasn’t the best at prioritizing. But one thing was clear: I grabbed what was irreplaceable. The thought of losing them was unbearable. I imagine you’d do the same in my shoes. And I sincerely hope you never have to face such a choice.
“When it came to my books, I wasn’t good at grabbing what was valuable, I did take what was irreplaceable. I imagine you would do the same. I hope you don’t have to.”
Books are more than just pages bound together. They are gateways to other worlds, repositories of knowledge, and vessels of emotion. Losing them feels like losing a part of yourself. That’s why, in moments of crisis, we instinctively reach for what matters most.
This experience taught me the importance of preparation and the value of the things we often take for granted. It’s easy to overlook the significance of our possessions until we’re faced with the possibility of losing them. But when that moment arrives, clarity strikes, and we act with purpose.
as I reflect on that day,I’m reminded of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing what we hold dear. Whether it’s a beloved book, a cherished photograph, or a treasured heirloom, these items carry stories and memories that define who we are.
So, take a moment to consider what you’d save if faced with a similar situation. What holds irreplaceable value in your life? and more importantly,how can you protect it? Preparation isn’t just about safeguarding possessions; it’s about preserving the essence of what makes us who we are.
Featured photo by the author.
What specific moment in time does the title “Ader, a moment frozen in time” refer to within the context of the provided text?
Ader, a moment frozen in time.
Reflections on a Life Through Books
These books, each with its own story, are more than just objects on a shelf. They are windows into moments of serendipity, connection, and personal history. From the chance meeting with Rupert Pole to the signed copy of Anthony Bourdain’s work,each volume carries a piece of the owner’s journey. they remind us that books are not just vessels for stories but also for memories, emotions, and the people we meet along the way.
In times of crisis, like the wildfires that threatened to destroy everything, these books became symbols of what truly matters. They are not just possessions but fragments of a life lived, a testament to the power of literature to connect us to the past, to each other, and to ourselves.
As the flames receded and the smoke cleared, the owner of these books was left with a profound sense of gratitude—not just for the physical items saved but for the stories they carry and the memories they evoke. it’s not the things we own that define us, but the stories we tell and the connections we make. And for this reader, those stories are forever bound within the pages of these cherished books.