Carol Cormaci
There was something in the air Sunday night when Gil and I departed from Lanterman House, having enjoyed a casual picnic there with other supporters of our local museum.
It was becoming noticeably chilly out; I could easily identify that as cause of the slight shudder I felt. But there was something else making me slightly ill at ease. Perhaps it was a whiff of smoke from someone’s barbecue.
Thoughts raced through my mind of conversations I’ve had recently with reporter Mary O’Keefe, who comes, wild-eyed, into my office every so often to repeat what’s worrying her: The vegetation surrounding us is beyond bone dry and we’re all gonna be toast when the next fire breaks out in the part of the Angeles National Forest that lies behind us.
In most instances I’m an optimist — but all that changes when it comes to thoughts of wildfire dancing through my head. The slightest smell of unidentified smoke spooks me more than anything else I can name.
At the risk of being the editor who cries wolf, I’m compelled to bring up the Woodwardia fire of mid-October 1959 again. It’s been a few years since my last mention of it, so perhaps it will be an education for some readers.
La Crescenta, La Cañada and Altadena very nearly became seriously toasted during that fire, which engulfed 14,200 acres of the forest over nearly a week before it was contained.
Families were evacuated to a Red Cross shelter set up at Flintridge Prep, homes were lost, 14 people were injured and two firefighters died.
I was a little kid when that fire broke out. The foothills where the country club is today had not yet been developed; they remained covered in sagebrush and sumac.
Our home was at the base of those foothills. Red flames seemingly surrounded three sides of our house, and the air was thick with smoke and ashes. My sisters and I were as wild-eyed as Mary; we were all too scared to sleep, for several nights.
A lot of talk went around, about how someone must have flicked a burning cigarette out of his car while driving along Angeles Crest Highway. But the real culprit was an arsonist.
Two months later, a Tujunga man, 19, was before a judge, entering his plea.
