AFTERMATH OF THE LAGUNA BEACH FIRESTORM.

The Santa Ana winds stopped...It was a beautiful sunny Fall day..... the kind of day I'd seen hundreds of times before... but today instead of lounging all morning and writing all afternoon, I had to start rebuilding my life from ground zero. 

My sister Donna, continued screening
calls, gathering information about relief stations in town providing food vouchers, basic staples and cash.  She made notes about churches providing clothes, food and money for the fire-victims and found out that the recreation department had already set up booths for insurance, FEMA-grants and more money for those who qualified.  Even the local banks gave cash to those who had accounts with them.  Laguna was determined to take care of it's own and get the town back to normal as soon as possible.


I didn't sleep at all, I couldn't eat or think straight.  Donna gave me some of her clothes and bought me a futon to sleep on while I lived with her for a while.  I was reduced to a helpless child following her around taking direction.  She told me when to eat, get dressed and meet my responsibilities.  She became a Drill Sargent  moving me forward...not letting me give up. 

It took three day's for the city of Laguna Beach to let it's residents view the remains of their homes.  They said the fires had to be completely put out and Governor Pete Wilson and President Clinton had to declare Laguna Beach a disaster before the State and federal relief money could be approved.  

Finally Donna was able to drive me back to town and face the devastation.  We stopped at the Police Station to get a pass to be able to enter the the fire-zone and while we stood in line we were bombarded with news people slamming microphones up in my face asking... how it felt to lose everything.

"I've lost my lifestyle and my identity... but my bulldossers will be the first to roll up Skyline Drive and rebuild." I said with determination.

As we left the station we couldn't believe the crowds of people who had lost their homes as well... 366 homes in all.  When I scanned the town I was stunned to see Fema, The Red Cross, OC fire trucks on alert, News helicopters overhead and news vans capturing images of people crying.  Frightened children clung to their parents, homeless millionaires in Mercedes were reduced to standing in line for passes to see their property, confused retirees needed toiletries, and devastated High School kids wondered if  Laguna Beach High School was shut down.

 Laguna had been famous for it's beautiful beaches, charming village, and relaxed lifestyle.  Now it looked like a melted nightmare of ash, soot and people wondering where to begin.

Some of the locals who didn't lose their homes were out as usual walking or riding their bikes... trying to resume some kind of normal existence while watching all the drama from the sidelines.  I was so angry I wanted to spit on them... even though I knew they'd gone through a traumatic evacuation process, suffered survivor's guilt and now will have to live in charred smoke filled neighborhoods... but dammit they got to go home to their little cozy nests tonight while I was shattered to the brink of insanity.  My entire state of mind was blank as if everything had been erased.  I had to think in terms of survival just to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Donna and I met with the insurance adjuster at my property to view the disaster and collect the $10,000 check.  We slowly snaked our way around the turns to Skyline Drive and were amazed that so many houses in the lower section were perfectly in tact.  For a second I thought maybe my house was still there.  I'd heard the fire skipped houses as it scorched it's path through Mystic Hills... perhaps mine was one of the lucky ones it jumped over.  When we got to the yellow caution-taped area we were told we had to park the car and walk up the hill. 

My adjuster, Mr. Anderson, was dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt.  He was a tall middle aged balding man with glasses and a nervous laugh.  He shook my hand and said he had my $10,000 check in the car.  I must have appeared upset and vulnerable as we walked up the hill, because he mumbled something about how much compassion he had for me, because he'd worked the Oakland fires a few years earlier and saw what people had gone through.  Half listening while taking in my first impressions I held my breath... everything looked normal not a house was gone... then went around the bend and I quacked and put my hand over my mouth. 

All that was left was naked fireplaces, charred black skeletons of cars melted into the ground and piles of ash that once resembled beach homes.  Everything was cremated beyond recognition!  It reminded me of pictures of the Civil War.


Gene was at the site when we arrived with several news people camera ready hoping I'd fall apart as my loss was about to go public.  My legs almost gave out and tears ran down my face when I realized my house was indeed gone.  Camera's clicked as Gene grabbed me and held me tight.  I buried my face in his chest and knew his sorrow was as deep as mine. I wished he would help me go through this process being a Lawyer and all, but the truth was we were divorced six weeks ago and he had another woman in his life. 

The Adjuster asked him about the claim and he let me go saying, "it's not my house" and walked away.  My heart sunk as I turned to face the powerful insurance company who wanted to give me as little as possible for my loss.


My sister caught my body language as I transformed right before her eyes.  She said I went from a clinging vine to a strictly business... soon to be an owner-builder, take no prisoners kind of Woman.

The adjuster too, after realizing I was a single woman, transformed into a condescending Villain ready to take advantage of a poor little victim.  He immediately took his attention off of Gene and asked me to walk with him up the old red-brick stair case that once led into our very private world.

 "Now Sharrie,"  he said in a calm voice, "I'd like you to close your eyes and imagine what your house looked like the day before the fire."

What an idiot...asking me to imagine what my living room looked like three days ago.  "Well," I said,  "you walk through the front door and you see my whole life there before your eyes."


"Of course I understand this is a very sensitive time for you," he said, "but I really need an idea of what the inside of your house looked like so I can start your claim." 

"Of course you do Mr. Anderson," I snarled.

"Do you have any pictures... oh excuse me... of course not... you weren't home when the fire came...  Does anyone else in your family have pictures."

I stopped him in mid-sentence... "I'll need some time to put a picture of my life together for you." I said, sounding very irritated about having to deal with an uncaring, red tape workaholic,  "Because my loss entails more than just a few sticks of furniture."


"I understand," he said, condescendingly, "but we need a list of everything in the house so we can put a number down as to your financial loss."


"Again, Mr. Anderson, I lost more than just material things, I lost priceless relics as well as manuscripts and documentation for a book about my family... that William Morris was just about to pay me $250,000 advance for. how am I going to be reimbursed for that?"


"That is unfortunate," he said with his hands folded like a mortician,  "but we can only pay for what you were insured for."


"I've lost my lifestyle." I said, "That can't be computed on a calculator, a lifestyle forged out of blood sweat and tears.  It took Generations of my family's hard work getting me here. Can you put a number on that Mr Anderson?"


He didn't get it and said he'd contact me when I was able to think clearly.


"That might take a while," I said.


"I know you're emotionally spent," he kindly drawled. "The most important thing right now is finding you a place to live... please try and list your belongings within the next couple of weeks and I'll have one of our builders and an Architect meet with you in a couple of days."


We walked down the hill together...he opened his trunk and pulled out a check for $10,000 and said "this should be enough to get started, go find a place to live for you and your daughter."


All I wanted to do was go to Fashion Island and buy some skin products so I could at least wash my face. Donna and I drove through the canyon and videoed the charred black rolling hills and scary remains of one hundred year old oak and Eucalyptus trees.  It was Halloween eve and the smoke reeked of dead brush and cremated animals that had roamed through Laguna Canyon since the beginning of time.  We got on the freeway and headed to Gene's house so I could give Georgia some money for necessities.  When we got there she came out and said she didn't want to stay there much longer.

"Mom, it's a pit," she said, "and I have no privacy... I have to sleep on the couch... all my bags of clothes and stuff smell like smoke and are spread all over the floor."
She was expressionless except for tears in her eyes, and said, "I just want to go home." 




Stay tuned as the Aftermath of the Firestorm continues.

LAGUNA BEACH FIRESTORM, THE EXODUS...

The fire department gave up trying to save any houses on the hill.  The blaze had become a firestorm.  They decided to post whatever trucks were available... at the end of  Skyline Drive to keep the the fire from burning down the town. 

Gene and Georgia, along with 20,000 plus people evacuated Laguna Beach, heading South to points unknown.  Gene decided my sister Donna's house in Dana Point was where I'd finally wind up, so  inched down Coast Highway for four hours on a journey that normally took 10 minutes.

At exactly the same time, the clock in my Tie Chi class said 5:00 P.M.  I'd been concerned about the fire, but had no idea how bad it had gotten.  Slowly I got up off my mat and walked outside.  The hot winds blew my hair up in the air and a black cloud of smoke filled the sky. 

A girl standing next to me said,  "It's coming from Laguna Beach and it's been growing all day... It looks like bad smoke, the kind that means fire." 

"My Tie Chi teacher's daughter had called him and said the fire was in Emerald Bay," I rebutted.  "That's far enough away from Mystic Hills.  I don't think I have to worry." 

"I don't know," she said, " I think you better get going if you live there."  I quickly left class early and headed home.

The news on my car radio confirmed that Laguna Beach was on fire, but didn't give any details.  I stopped at a phone booth to call my sister Donna, but a lady with a van filled to the top with her belongings - holding two Golden Retrievers on a leash - was talking on the phone.

Looking devastated, she turned to me face and said, "my house just burned down."

I asked her where she lived and she said, "Emerald Bay."

"Has it gotten to Mystic Hills," I asked her.

"I don't know, but maybe," she said.

With that I didn't wait to call Donna.  Instead I panicked and rushed down Crown Valley towards Coast Highway. I got stuck in a logger jam of traffic as the police turned everyone away form Laguna Beach.  The officer said I had to take a different route, because nobody was allowed to go into Laguna.

My heart was pounding with fear, not knowing what was really going on and found side streets to my sisters house.  When I finally got there, I ran up the stairs and could hear her talking on the phone to our dad.  Then all of a sudden she saw me and said, "where have you been."

"Where's  Georgia," I screamed..


"Georgia's fine, but your house is gone!" she screamed back.

Life as I'd known it was over, gone with the wind just like that. I was beyond thankful that Georgia was safe with Gene.  I knew I could count on him in a crisis.  I just prayed he saved my work and my pictures.  The TV showed aerial views of the fire and the smell of smoke in the air was burning my eyes.

I talked to my dad and he said, "Georgia and and Gene are fine, but the house was on fire when they left."


I was in too much shock to feel pain.  A horrible wave of shame washed over me for not listening to my instinct and staying home.  Dad said, "Gloria (my stepmother) has already called the Insurance Company and reported the loss, I bet you'll be the first person to file a claim."
He kept talking trying to comfort me, but I drifted into space until he said, "and the adjuster will be calling you tonight and bringing a check for $10,000 tomorrow."

From that point on the phone rang off the hook with all my friends and family wanting to know if Georgia and I were okay....The only one I'd talk to was David my writing partner, who assured me that he had a copy of my manuscript and some of the pictures for to be used in The Maybelline Story.  He was optimistic, and said, "don't worry Sharrie, now you can rebuild your dream house with a second story overlooking the ocean."


That sounded like a miracle, but right now, I just wanted my own little house back.  After that Donna took every call so I could calm down and wait for Georgia and Gene to arrive.


Gene's truck pulled into the driveway at 9:00 PM and I screamed when they came in smelling like smoke, covered with soot.  I grabbed my daughter in my arms, and said, "thank God, you're okay honey."


"Mom, where were you." she asked, with tears in her eyes, "why weren't you home?"


"I was at school, honey," I said, "Don't you remember, I'm always at school on Wednesday."


"Nobody knew where you were," Gene said, grabbing me and holding me tight against his chest, did you talk to your dad."


"Yes," I said, "he's so grateful you both got out safe..... but did you save my work? did you get my pictures?"
looking at him wide eyed... then Georgia... then him again.


"I don't know," he said, "I got a lot of stuff, but you don't understand..... it was so dark and smoky I could hardly see."


"What do you mean," I said, panicking, "it was right next to the door."


"I got what I could," he said, "but I don't know if I got it all."


Georgia looked at me with disgust, as I screamed at her dad, "Mom, you weren't even there, you have no idea how hard it was for us!..... dad got one box by the door, but we had to get out."

I lost it..... screaming at Gene, not appreciating that he'd done the best he could.  He wanted to slap me, but finally grabbed me and took me out to his truck.  He opened the back up so I could dig through the stuff  like a crazy person.  The neighbors watched in amazement knowing I was a fire victim.  I found one box of pictures and some writing files, but my main Maybelline manuscript was gone and so was everything else.

It was more horrible than I expected, the devastation of my life's work and all of my heirlooms gone forever.  I looked at Gene, and hated him for purposely sabotaging my career out of jealousy.

"You're a f....... crazy person right now." he said and I was.....Crazy like a homeless refugee without even a f...... tooth brush.


Gene put all my remaining belongings, mostly underwear and clothes..... as well as the pictures Georgia had taken off the walls..... in the back of my car and I almost threw up looking at the remains of my life. 

Georgia was furious that I wasn't more grateful and exhausted from trying to get to me, rather than going straight to her dad's house in Newport Beach.  Gene decided to take Georgia home with him so she could have her own bed and let me begin the grieving process.

That night, Donna pulled her living room couch out for me to sleep on and I continued to watch the fires on TV with out ever really falling asleep.  My mind kept telling me to just get in the car and go home.  I had to stop myself every time I wanted to run out the door and go screaming into the night.  I had to keep reminding myself that there was no home to go home to.

I cried and screamed into my pillow and paced the floor. Standing on Donna's deck looking at the red October sky, I was amazed at how haunting the blood-red full moon looked over the ocean.  It's Armageddon for sure, I thought.  In my fog I remembered last January when my neighbors lost their homes in the mud slides.  Now I  knew how they felt..... The void was unimaginable, the emptiness and loss overwhelming.  But thank God Georgia was safe, and Gene had her.  Everything else could be replaced..... except my family pictures and heirlooms.  But at least Gene had saved one box of old family pictures and that would be enough for the book.

As my minded raced going over the events of the day, I remembered putting the padlock on the door leading into the garage.  We had been robbed a few weeks before and I was being extra safe.  Now I could kill myself because Gene couldn't get in to save 35 picture albums and 30 years of my journals.  All that work went up in smoke and I wanted to die.  How could fate be so cruel?  How will I ever get through this?  I wanted to give up and let my dream of being a published author die..... but a voice inside kept telling me to keep going..... So I did.


The next day, was the beginning of the rest of my life and the beginning of forming a new identity out of nothing.  It was time for me to be tested, to see who I was on the inside..... rather than rely on my possessions as self worth.  But what frightened me the most was finding out I was nothing.....

             Part three of the Laguna Beach Firestorm.
 
 
To be continued tomorrow.....

LAGUNA BEACH FIRESTORM DEVOURS OUR HOME..

                   Firestorm  Continued.....

For a while class continued, but not for long.  By two o'clock everyone was panicking and classes were dismissed.  Hundreds of kids ran around looking for answers to their questions, but nobody knew anything for sure. The Elementary and Junior High Schools were evacuated to the football field.  Georgia and her best friend Angie, searched for Angie's little siser for over an hour, through the sea of hysterical parents and screaming children until they found out she'd already been picked up.  It was now three thirty and the fire was quickly moving closer and closer.

 Georgia called home to see if I was there, than called her dad to come get her.  By four o'clock Gene, still hadn't shown up and she was getting very nervous.  Most everyone had been picked up by their parents and those who hadn't, were being evacuated to Laguna Hills High School.  She waited in front of Laguna Beach High School with Angie, but with every passing minute her anxiety increased. The sky was red and black, and the smell of smoke filled the air like a dirty fire place fills a room.

Gene rushed to Laguna, only to find road blocks as the highway patrol turned incoming traffic around.  When he finally got to the front of the slow moving line he told the police he was picking up his daughter up from school.  He was asked to show his drivers license for proof of residency, but explained he'd just gotten divorced.

"Look," he said, "My ex-wife and daughter, live up on the hill that's on fire.  My ex-wife isn't home, and I got an emergency call from daughter."

They realized he wasn't a spectator, and waved him through.  About four thirty, Georgia saw his truck pull into view, and finally felt safe.  Gene got out of the truck and hugged her and Angie, but before going home to check on our house, he took Angie to her parents.  Angie was hysterical because she'd not been home to save her things.  Georgia comforted her, saying, "everything will be fine."  Never imagining there might be something for her to worry about.   After dropping Angie off, she asked her dad, if they could stop by the house, just to check on everything  and make sure it was Okay.  He looked at her like she was crazy, but said, of course.

When they got to the house the fire had just jumped onto our hill..... but even at that point, Georgia didn't realize her home was in danger..... As they pulled into the driveway, a police car passed by, shouting through a bull-horn.  "Get out, now,"  but they let him go by, rushing into the already smoke filled house. 

Their eyes were burning, like when you sit too near a camp fire and Georgia began to panic.  She couldn't think, she didn't know where to begin.   At that moment, Gene said, "Okay, what do we always pack first when we go on a trip.....underwear!"  So, she dumped her entire underwear drawer in a bag.  She didn't have time to pack for a trip, so she grabbed as much as she could..... pictures off the wall, jewelry, yearbooks, her favorite stuffed animal, and of course, more underwear.  Next, she tried to save everything of mine.  She packed my entire underwear drawer first.  She said, It felt like a game show, where you only have thirty seconds to fill their cart with as much stuff as possible.

After about ten minutes of frenzy, they both noticed the fire through the open bathroom window, facing the hill.  Georgia said she wanted to call her Grampa, in Palm Springs and ask him where I was.  She dialed the phone and my dad immediately answered. 

 "Grampa," she cried, "our house is on fire and I don't know where mom is."

"I don't either, honey," he said, "but don't worry, I'm sure she's okay, you just get out of there as fast as you can, and go with your dad."

My dad, was so touched by Georgia's tear filled call and so worried about me, that when he got off the phone, he turned to my brother Preston, and said,

"Press, right this minute, nothing in the world means anything to me, but knowing Sharrie, and Georgia are safe."

the fire had now taken over the entire hill and was Bee- lining straight for our house.  It looked like an enormous red tidal wave enveloping everything in its path.  Georgia stopped at the front door.  She saw the family pictures and manuscripts for my Maybelline book. Gene tried to pull her out the door, but she fell to the floor unable to speak a full sentence.  

Again, Gene tried to pull her up and get her to the car, but she resisted, pointing to my boxes of files, mumbling, "Mommy's work, Mommy's work."

Gene told her they had to get out fast, but she refused to leave, until he picked up a few boxes and screamed,
"okay, move! let's go!"

Gene headed to the car with boxes under one arm and Georgia under the other. As they made their way to the truck, Ginger, the cat ran up the stairs.  Georgia tired to catch her, but she was so scared she turned and ran up the hill towards the fire.....Georgia couldn't stop her and Gene couldn't wait.

Gene finally got Georgia into the truck, just as sparks flew onto the roof tops of other houses in the neighborhood.  He paused for one final look at the house we'd lived in since Georgia was a baby.  It was a peaceful moment in the midst of the chaos, lasting only about ten seconds before our roof caught the blaze and they had to go.  As they drove away from the only home Georgia had ever known, they saw our neighbors, Mark and Barbara stoically packing Barbara's new Jeep.....  They all looked at each other with blank expressions and waved good-bye.

By five O'clock, a 90 foot wall of flame consumed our house, causing it to explode then burn to the ground. Georgia and Gene watched the horror from the High School.  Georgia fell to her knees and cried
as she clung to her daddy's legs.

"My house is burning," she said with tears streaming down her cheeks, but people were too speechless to reply.  Finally the police forced everyone to leave, fearing the High School, might be next, followed by the whole town..... down to the ocean.  The fire department gave up trying to save any houses on the hill.  The blaze had become a firestorm, they were under-staffed and all the fire trucks were in Emerald Bay and other parts of the County.

They finally decided.....

Continued tomorrow.....

               Part two of Channel 5 news coverage.

MY HOUSE BURNED DOWN IN THE LAGUNA BEACH FIRESTORM 1993,

         Laguna Beach, October 27, 1993. 

As fierce wildfires fueled by 70 mph Santa Ana winds swept through the Laguna Canyon and hurtled towards their neighborhoods, people found themselves literally racing to escape the 200-feet-high flames. When it was over, the fire had claimed 366 homes. 

Excerpt from my, 1993, Diary, unedited. Post - Oct 27.


I laid there, in my boiling hot room, and sorted out my day. The first thing I had to do was call Barbara - my neighbor across the street - and see if she put the copy of my William Morris book contract, in my mailbox... so I could take it to school, and go over it.  My Attorney had faxed it to her husband Mark's office and he was nice enough to bring it home for me.


I knew it was going to be a difficult day, because of the heat, and my back was still killing me.  My face too, was dry, itchy and pealing, because I'd just had another deep face peal, and  couldn't wear make-up again today. I wished I could stay home and hide, but I had to get the contract figured out and faxed back to David by the end of the day.  This time, I was determined... nothing would stand in the way, of me writing my book.


Before Georgia left the house for school, she turned on the T.V., and I heard the reporter say, Orange County was on fire.  I'd heard this before, but was never alarmed.....I figured we were safe here Laguna, tucked away from the rest of the county in a Lagoon..... but when I got up, and looked out the window, I was stunned by the amount of smoke in the air and how the sun looked like it had turned to blood.


Than I noticed Mark and Barbara's roofer's, working at 7:00 a.m., and worried about the hot tar blowing in my windows. I knew I couldn't stay in the house with the windows shut all day.  The heat would kill me.

The Santa Ana winds were out of control, blowing 90 miles an hour, or so it seemed, by the look of the palm trees swaying in the wind. I forced myself to get dressed, and get out of the town as soon as possible until it blew over.

Before I left, I called Barbara and told her the roofer's had an actual fire going on her roof, but figured they must know what they were doing, so didn't worry too much about it.  We talked about the brand new Black Cherokee Jeep, she'd just gotten, and I remarked on how spoiled she was, having a rich husband, who buys her anything she wants.

"Oh, I know," she agreed, "isn't it terrible, how spoiled we both are," she laughed, throwing it right back to me.


"Well, I suppose you're right," I said, "I'm very lucky too, after all I  get to spend the day doing aerobics, Yoga and Tie Chi, than study my contract while eating lunch."


We both laughed, knowing that few people had a lifestyle as comfortable and as fun as ours.


"What do you think about the fires," I asked her, needing some reassurance before I headed out of town.


"I'm worried, of course," she confessed, "but it looks like they're pretty far North, don't you think?," she said.


"You're right," I said, "but doesn't it look like the end of the world? I've just got to get out of here."


"I'm so sorry," she said, "about the roof.  They were supposed to be done a week ago, but you know contractors, you can't depend of them."


"It's okay," I said, "I need to get to school anyway.  I've missed the last two days of exercise classes, because my back went out."


"Well, good luck with the book contract," she said, "I'm excited for you.  I know the project is going to be great, how can it miss, the story is phenomenal"


"Thanks Barb," I said, "and thank Mark for bringing the fax home."

I got off the phone and called David next to tell him everything was on schedule and that I'd call him in the afternoon when I got home. Than I threw on some old cotton shorts, a crummy t-shirt without shoulder pads, and some tennis shoes. The house looked neat, and clean.  Everything was in order.  My manuscript,
family pictures, and letters, all filed in boxes and stored under my desk next to the door. I walked out the front door and down the old red brick steps to my car, than hesitated for one second, wondering if I should bring the pictures with me to decide which one's would be best for the book. Than thought, "no, leave them, they're safer in the house and I wouldn't want to take any chances of losing them."

I pulled the car out of the garage, locked it tightly with the new pad lock I just bought and backed it out of the driveway.  Before I drove off down the hill, I looked back to admire the new paint job, and landscaping.  It was just darling and I was proud I'd restored it to it's rightful position in the neighborhood, after years of neglect during my long divorce. I dreamed about the day I could finally build a second story on it and have a perfect view.

As I drove through Laguna Canyon, at 11:15 a.m., I noticed police cars, than saw the police putting yellow cones in the highway, to stop traffic from coming into town, it concerned me, but not enough to turn around and go home.   

How strange, I thought, as I sped past them. I looked in my rear view mirror and vowed not to worry, I'll be home at 5:30, I said to myself, and everything will be fine.

While I got on on the 405 freeway, heading South.....
Georgia was dressing for P.E. and going out to play soft ball on the field, when she looked up at the sky towards our house, and noticed it was blue and purple, with scarlet clouds... too eerie to be beautiful, and yet amazingly hypnotic, she thought. The other kids were singing, "it's the end of the world as we know it"... even though, at that point they really didn't know a thing.  There was a scary tension in the air, but the P.E. coach kept everyone playing outside, in the horrible heat.

By lunch, it was clear there was a problem and out in the distance Georgia, could see a cloud of black smoke slowly getting bigger and bigger, right over the town. Reports of a fire in Emerald Bay, a few miles North, began to filter across the campus, and though nothing was confirmed until she got to her 5th period class..... she knew it wasn't good.


Finally the word came that Laguna was on fire......but not to panic.

                              To be continued all this week....