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On the Front Lines of the Los Angeles Fires

‘You really don’t know until you get there how dangerous it is.’ 

January 10, 2025
Photo credit: Christina House / Sipa USA via AP

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Wally Skalij has covered fires for the Los Angeles Times for twenty-five years, so when he saw a recent forecast calling for a severe windstorm this week, he immediately flagged it to his editor. “If this is true, this can be really bad,” he said. Even so, what ensued over the past few days left him shocked. The fires that raged through residential communities across Los Angeles have so far burned nearly thirty-five thousand acres, destroying more than ten thousand homes and other structures and leaving at least ten people dead. Entire neighborhoods have been wiped out, including large portions of Altadena and Pacific Palisades. Skalij spent fifteen hours on the road Tuesday documenting the fires and their paths of devastation. He spoke to CJR on Wednesday, before heading out for a second evening of coverage. “Nobody is an expert in fires, because fire is very unpredictable,” he said. “You really don’t know until you get there how dangerous it is.” His account has been edited for concision and clarity.

 

On Tuesday morning I was walking my dog along the beach. I kept my eye on Malibu, looking north, just to make sure nothing erupted, because the wind was starting. All of a sudden, I see this little plume of smoke coming up. Here we go, I thought. I messaged one of my editors, and he asked if I could leave as soon as I could. I took my dog home and started getting my fire gear together, and my cameras. I have a Nomex fire outfit––it’s the yellow pants and jacket that firefighters use sometimes for brush fires. I also have a fire helmet, goggles, a face covering, and gloves. I’m pretty much covered up.

It’s about a thirty-five- to forty-minute drive to the Pacific Palisades from where I live. When I got to Sunset Boulevard, the road was completely jammed, with everybody trying to get out—they blocked all the lanes, so the firefighters could not go up and down. Finally, a couple people moved and allowed one lane to open up. If I didn’t have an early deadline, I would’ve stayed with the people there, waiting for the fire to come, because that’s where you’re gonna capture the panic. I did stop and shoot a few photos of people walking their dogs, leaving with their suitcases. But I needed to get pictures of the fire before my three o’clock deadline. 

At this point, the fire is still up in the mountains, but it’s starting to creep down towards the homes. So on the street, I found where there were three homes on fire, but there were no people, no firefighters. It’s always horrific that houses are burning, but ideally you really want a photo of the firefighter battling the house fire. There’s always a little panic in the firefighter’s face, or, you know, they’re running to get the hose. There’s always some urgency. With just a house on fire, it’s sad to look at, but there’s also not that urgency, that panic. In the back of your mind, this fire is spreading so fast, you know that things are happening elsewhere, and you’re just in the wrong spot. 

I try to be in contact with my editors throughout, but when fires happen, cell towers go down, so it was very spotty service. I had one bar on one particular spot on one street, so I was able to get photos up. It was slow, but I was getting them out. When I do get a signal, my editors text me, Hey, the Getty Villa might be on fire. Or, Palisades High School, we hear, is on fire now. That’s a mile and a half away. Can I get through? The fire is heading towards Santa Monica. Do I head over there? Do I head towards the Malibu Pier, where the fire is also heading to? You know, the Malibu Pier is historical.

Eventually, Skalij makes his way down to the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu, where he would capture dramatic footage of beachside properties engulfed in flames.

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I’ve covered fires in Malibu before, and usually fire comes down the hill slowly, the embers will travel up to a mile, maybe further, I don’t know. And in the past maybe one or two houses burned along the PCH, but this one just came in so fierce. The wind was so bad. There was one moment I was next to a lifeguard stand, and the wind came in so fast—I’m not kidding, it must have been a hundred miles an hour. A gust of embers just flew right at me. I had to turn my back and just take cover. I just couldn’t believe it. I was shocked. I’ve seen a lot of fires. I’ve never seen wind like this sustained for so long.

I was out for hours by the time I took the video of the Pacific Coast Highway. It was probably around ten at night. I hadn’t eaten since 9am, which was my own mistake. 

When the houses are burning, it’s a little hard to get close, because the heat is overwhelming, even with your fire suit on. You can’t handle that much heat. So obviously you try to stay as far back as you can—and you can kind of test it as you walk closer to the house.With this wind you need to stand back even further. The way the wind can shift in a split second, all of a sudden you get black smoke in your face from a house or from a car, and that’s the stuff you really shouldn’t be breathing. But sometimes you don’t have a choice.

I was on the PCH at one point where a couple businesses just started burning, and then the trees caught on fire, and all of a sudden it just went completely black. I couldn’t see anything…from all the black smoke. So I sat there for like ten, fifteen seconds, just sitting there in black. It scared me, because I didn’t know if there’s a fire coming or if something was going to fall.

I’ve never covered a fire like this. I texted a good friend this morning and I said, “This is a first: it’s snowing in Mount Baldy and Big Bear, and at the same time a brush fire is breaking out to the west of it.”

I just found out before this phone call that [a photojournalist friend] lost his home. So it’s really hitting home. You really feel for these people—they lost everything. I try to place myself in their situation and approach things in a sensitive way with my photography and try to not be aggressive, not be intrusive, you know? It’s tough. It’s people in their worst moment, and we’re there capturing it. But I don’t look at it in a negative way. I look at it as a positive. Maybe we can learn from this. That’s one of the reasons why I’m out there.

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Feven Merid is CJR’s staff writer and Senior Delacorte Fellow.