by - Alisa Wolfson’s family lost their home in the Pacific Palisades to the LA wildfires.
- They stayed in hotels while they figured out their next steps.
- The impact of climate change and insurance problems are prompting them to leave California.
This as-told essay is based on a conversation with Alisa Wolfson, a journalist who lives in the Pacific Palisades with her husband and two daughters, ages 7 and 10. They were evacuated on January 7 and subsequently lost their home in the LA burns that passed through Southern California. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
I grew up in the Palisades and have seen numerous fires in the surrounding areas. When fires break out in the Santa Monica Mountains and extend toward the Palisades, they are usually always able to extinguish them.
When I left my house on Tuesday, I thought we would be back that evening, so I packed nothing but my laptop and our passports. If I thought there was a chance something like this could happen, I would have grabbed as much as I could and even tied things to the roof of my car.
The sky as Wolfson evacuated her home. Photo courtesy of Alisa Wolfson
When I heard the next day that our house was gone, I was in complete shock. I keep closing my eyes and walking through my house room by room, imagining what everything was like. To think that nothing of it exists anymore is… I haven’t found a deep enough word. ‘Devastating’ and ‘unfathomable’ don’t do it justice.
Everything we own is gone
I felt like our house was a fortress; it was so well built and sturdy. Before we found out, my husband had even said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if our house was the only one left standing.”
Wolfson’s house before the fire. Photo courtesy of Alisa Wolfson
One of our neighbors was able to bike to our street and sent photos and videos to the group text. Miraculously, two houses are still standing across the street. They are the only ones left around, and their hedges are still green.
I recognized our driveway, our lime tree – which still had limes on it – and a white cement wall in front of our house that had turned brown from soot. Everything else was unrecognizable. We had two vintage cars in our garage – a ’57 Chevy that was built like a tank and a ’69 Jaguar – and there’s no evidence of that anymore. They are just dust.
What remained of Wolfson’s home Wednesday afternoon. Photo courtesy of Alisa Wolfson.
Every possession I have – that me hadrather, has disappeared, and I could not save anything from it. All our lives that were in that house are gone. The magnitude of what that means and its permanence feels so unexpected and unfair.
I’m so sad I didn’t bring a basket of old home movies from my father, who passed away when our oldest was just 10 months old. My mother’s house also burned down, so we no longer have any family heirlooms. People say, “You still have a long time to start collecting,” but that’s not the same as having your grandmother’s silver that was used at all the family gatherings and celebrations.
We are fortunate to have the means to stay in a hotel
People online have said things [about Palisades] such as, “They are rich. They will rebuild and don’t need any help.” I don’t take it personally. Unless it’s happened to you, it’s virtually impossible to deal with.
We are fortunate enough to be able to stay in a hotel now – first at the Beverly Hilton, and on Wednesday we moved to the Fairmont Century Plaza as it is across the street from my husband’s office and around the corner from Westfield Century City . Shopping center.
Wolfson took her daughters shopping for clothes. Photo courtesy of Alisa Wolfson.
Just about every other hotel guest I’ve seen is in the same boat. There is something strangely comforting about knowing that we are not alone, that there is a larger community all grieving the same kind of loss.
It takes us an hour at a time
There is a long way to go. The rental market is already insane. There are a limited number of rental properties and everyone is queuing for the same properties. I’m sure there will be price gouging and greedy people who want to get as much money as they can when they rent out their house.
Friends and family from all over the country have reached out and offered to stay with them. One offered us their apartment in Sun Valley – an incredible offer, but uprooting ourselves feels like it would change too much so quickly.
Family friends have a horse property in the Palisades and kindly offered us one of their small guest houses. We wait to see if it survived. Then we go there temporarily, because it is a place where our daughters are known.
Otherwise, we investigate possible places for longer-term hotel stays. Actually, we just take things day by day. We are booked into this hotel for the entire weekend on Monday from now on. We could expand here, but we might need a little more space, especially with the dog.
Wolfson’s dog, Gus. Photo courtesy of Alisa Wolfson.
My husband and I both grew up in the Palisades and bought our home there in 2018. We love our neighborhood and the strong sense of community. Now leaving California is on the table.
Climate change is real. Fires are becoming more frequent and intense, and no one wants to insure California homes anymore. Ironically, just last month, State Farm sent us a notice saying they would not be renewing our fire insurance policy. Luckily we are covered until April. We have filed a claim with our insurance and are waiting for another call with an adjuster.
I want to incorporate as much normality as possible
I’ve only cried once today so far. I don’t know if things are settling down and becoming more real; Maybe we’ll fall into our own little routine at the hotel.
A family we know is staying in the room next door, and our daughters are thrilled at the thought of doing cartwheels down the hall together, because that’s what makes them feel normal right now. All I can hope for is that my girls will continue to have those brief moments and glimmers of hope.
Breakfast at the hotel. Photo courtesy of Alisa Wolfson.
I’m trying to absorb as much normality where I can, not that there’s really much to be had. I find it hard to accept things from people because I’d rather help, but I’ve had to let go of that mentality and just accept the help.
Last night I sent my daughters home with one of my best friends. She prepared food for them and instructed them to babysit so they felt needed. She took them to get ice cream afterwards and even brought me a scoop when she delivered them.
It’s things like this that really keep us going.