THE BEGINNING OF THE END
A personal account of the Great Fire of 2025
Christopher Nyerges
[Class schedule is found at www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com]
On January 7, 2025, a Tuesday, I was in Highland Park (northeast Los Angeles) to operate the weekly farmer’s market, as I have done for years. It was windy, but tolerable, and I hoped that the winds would die down so the canopies that the farmers used would not be blown away. Apparently, winds were heavy in other areas, and about a third of our vendors did not arrive.
The modified market proceeded, and the wind seemed to gradually increase. Yes, there had been predictions of high winds in the news, and I assumed, as I usually do, that those highest winds would be high in the mountains and deep in the canyons, such as the Interstate 5 corridor.
By 4 p.m., steady winds made the market challenging to operate. By 6 p.m., my wife called me, telling me to try to get home as quickly as possible. “The winds are horrendous,” she told me, and she could see smoke and the red glare of fire to our home’s east and north. Our home is right on the Altadena-Pasadena border, just a few short blocks from Eaton Canyon, where apparently the high winds knocked down a power line and started a fire.
“The fire doesn’t look good,” she added, “and we have no power. Try to get home quickly. You might not be able to get back because they are telling people to evacuate.” I could tell that this was serious, more serious than I had imagined. Meanwhile, I had to stay at least another hour to close down the market, as winds increased and closing up the farmers’ canopies became very difficult.
I finally drove back amidst increasing winds, with branches and tree limbs blocking some roads. I drove up Lake Avenue and realized we were in a serious emergency status. As I freely drove north into Altadena, there was a line of car headlights heading south, as the exodus was continuing. Some street lights were out, and people were driving more recklessly. I could feel a sense of panic developing.
I managed to get into my neighborhood without any barricades, a darkened neighborhood where most neighbors were clearly already gone. This was about 8 p.m. High winds buffeted everything, and I as parked, I could see the orange sky to our east and north, as black smoke billowed into the sky. I didn’t know that then, but I was seeing the burning of the Jewish synagogue on Altadena Drive and the Palm Villa rest home occupied by senior citizens. It had already been evacuated by the time I got home.
My wife and I quickly put a few key items into our cars, such as clothes, toiletries, some photos, and computer. While my wife continued to collect a few necessities, I watered the outside. Sparks flew down from time to time in the high winds, which made me realize that we might never return to our small and humble home. But it wasn’t the time to think about things – we were operating on automatic pilot.
We finally drove off, not sure where we were going, but we headed down to Colorado Blvd. in Pasadena, home of the annual Rose Parade, to the hotel row area. The first hotel we saw had a long line of cars trying to get in, and a crowd in the lobby so we drove on. My wife found a smaller place down the road which had one room left, which we booked for the night.
We spent a fitful night, and I did my best to relax and sleep, though it was hard. We talked through what steps we’d take if everything we had got burned to the ground.
Day 2: Wednesday
In the morning, we were able to return to our home, still standing. We were on the fringe, and the still-raging fires were already well to the east and northwest of our neighborhood.
During the days that followed, we did hear from many of our friends who lost everything. My childhood friend Joe Sierra told me how he looked out and saw his neighbor’s house burning across the street from his Marengo home. He knew there were high winds, but had no idea the firestorm would get right next to his home. He grabbed his cat and jumped in his truck and took off as the neighborhood burned down. “I wish I had grabbed at least a spare pair of pants,” Joe told me.
MORE TO COME
