L.A. Fires: Two Negatives Make a Positive
This month’s Sightings features a heartfelt story by Los Angeles resident Adam Kline about unimaginable loss — both from the horrific L.A. fires, and from illness — followed by unimaginable generosity in the wake of tragedy.
Unfortunately, we made a mistake in the layout of the story and accidentally swapped a photo from another Sightings story. This kind of mistake is always embarrassing, but it’s especially glaring given the heavy content in Adam’s story. We sincerely apologize for the error.
Here’s the mistaken layout:
Here’s the photo that should have run:
And here is an excerpt from Adam’s story, “L.A. Fires: Two Negatives Make a Positive:”
January 6 was like any other Tuesday. My wife and I run a small janitorial supply business in Arcadia, California, and left work at a normal time to go home and make a home-cooked meal.
Around 6:35 p.m., when we were sitting at the dining table about to clean up, I heard the first siren. Then I heard another, this siren going past the house. Then another. I took a look outside and opened the front door to see a fire on the hillside to the east of our Altadena home of 30+ years.
It looked close, like, two miles or less away.
My wife looked at the flames as well. I told her we must pack — now.
I ran to the neighbors and knocked on doors, but only my next-door neighbor was home. He agreed it was close and started to pack as well. I spent the next three hours putting things into two cars. My wife was practical and took lots of personal belongings. I grabbed pictures and other things.
The power cut off at 10 p.m. and it seemed like a good time to leave as the wind was not getting any lighter. I thought about hitching up the Santana 20 that I’ve owned and raced since 1995, but decided to leave it as the wind was so strong that the fence blew down next to my car. Besides, my daughter’s Naples Sabot was parked in front of it and the panic of the situation seemed to cloud my decisions.
I left with my wife in the other car. The night was sleepless, and we evacuated a second time because my relative’s house, where we’d fled to, was also deemed to be threatened.
I went back to work in Arcadia just before 6 a.m. The smoke coming from Altadena was as black as night. I had no idea what to expect, but the news reports were not good.
Later that day, my daughter called from college to help process the news reports and figure out what was going on at home. She found a post on social media that showed our house in flames. The picture showed the side of the house with the boat. Only there was no boat, just the window behind where it was parked with a 10-foot fireball coming out of it. We were all devastated.
It was 12 noon on Wednesday.
It took four days before we were allowed to go to the property and see the devastation. The house lay in total ruins. The Santana was nothing but fabric laid across the melted trailer. Amazingly, the Naples Sabot was intact but not unscathed. My Santana 20, which was the second boat to receive a modern deck from WD Schock back in 1998, was unrecognizable. My daughter was thrilled that her Sabot had survived but was really upset that the 20 had burned up. I didn’t really realize how many family memories we had with that boat.
Word got out to my friends at Del Rey Yacht Club, and condolences came in, but Brendan Huffman, who is in charge of keelboat racing at the club, said that a gentleman named Simon wanted to donate his Santana 20 of three years to the club. The club wasn’t interested in it — the focus is on our J/22s and a new Martin 242 — but maybe he would donate it to me. Simon agreed.