Shortly after midnight on New Year’s Day, Francine Thorne was startled awake by a hysterical phone call from her neighbor. “There’s a fire in the hills,” a neighbor told her.
Mr. Song, 72, looked outside and saw a small wildfire burning dangerously near the Pacific Palisades area of West Los Angeles. She watched firefighters put out the fire, waiting to see if she should run. But there was no need. Winds were breezy but manageable at 15 mph, and the fire was extinguished before dawn, with no property damage or injuries.
A week later, the same thing happened. Another small fire was discovered in the same area. But this guy turned into a monster.
The Palisades Fire, now one of the most devastating natural disasters in Los Angeles history, started in the backyard of Palisades Highlands, a remote, wealthy community overlooking the coast between Malibu and Santa Monica. I did. Residents and hikers first recognized it as a small wildfire looming over dry scrubland.
But fanned by 60 mph winds, the flames quickly rolled down the mountainside and roared through neighborhoods, expanding to more than 20,000 acres and burning more than 5,000 structures. It is one of six wildfires currently burning simultaneously in Los Angeles County, forcing 180,000 people from their homes and killing at least 11 people.
NBC News witnessed the early stages of the Palisades Fire on the morning of January 7th, as it spread and moved faster than ever seen before, leaving nearly a dozen people with a path of destruction we never imagined. I spoke to people. A place where wildfires are a part of life.
Son was already nervous that morning after seeing authorities warn that dry winter winds were predicted to blow across drought-ridden Los Angeles, raising the risk of wildfires.
Later, as she left her home on Calle Piedra Morada to attend a 10:30 a.m. art class at a local recreation center, a neighbor yelled at her from across the street. She looked behind his house and saw a fire in the brush less than a mile away. A nearby family had already called 911.
Son didn’t wait for someone to tell him to evacuate.
“I ran into the house, woke up my friend, threw my dog in the car, threw as many photo albums as I could carry into the car and drove out of there,” she said.
Around the same time, in the bushes, Beni Oren was trail running with friends near local landmark Skull Rock when she smelled smoke. Oren, 24, said they turned and faced the flames about 100 feet away.
Realizing that the wind was blowing the fire, they panicked and ran, changing direction. When they reached safety, smoke spread over the canyon. “It was a strange experience realizing that this thing was about to burst into flames,” Oren said.
Firefighters quickly arrived with sirens blaring. On the radio, they described it as a ridgeline 10-acre wildfire and planned to deploy aircraft to absorb the rising flames. It was after 10:30am. The danger was already clear.
“The wind is at 100 percent. It could spread over 200 acres in the next 20 minutes,” one official reported over the Los Angeles County Fire Department radio, the recording said. “Structures may be threatened within the next 20 minutes.”
One person replied, “It’s hurtling directly towards the Palisades.” After a few seconds he added: “This will work.”
Palisades Highlands residents were coming to the same conclusion as they watched the fire spread from their backyards and decks.
Stephanie Libonati was at home with her mother and brother on Piedra Morada Drive when she saw flames and smoke about three-quarters of a mile away and yelled, “Fire!” After their mother called 911, Libonati and her brother ran outside to alert neighbors. They started packing up their photos, passports, and other valuables and made a plan. The plan was to start in three separate cars, meet up outside of town, and head to my grandfather’s ranch in Santa Clarita.
By the time they left, the fire appeared to have doubled in size, Libonati, 26, said. Firefighters also arrived and told my brother to stop soaking the back deck and get out of there.
“It sounded like a fire pit,” she said. “You could hear the fire crackling and everything was on fire. And the smell was so bad and the ash was blowing in your face. It was so fast. You could see it spreading and spreading. I kept watching.”
As soon as they started driving, families were separated and roads were cut off by flames, traffic, and panic. Driving through Palisades Village, a shopping district at the bottom of the hill, Libonati saw people on the side of the road filming the inferno above. “No one expected the village to be on fire,” she said. “That never happened.”
Eventually, the two met, hugged each other, and headed to the ranch.
The leak continued, changing from slow to furious. Palisades Drive, the single main road leading down the hill directly to Sunset Boulevard, was clogged with cars. Residents said some people tried the fire road, an alternative emergency evacuation route, but the route was soon engulfed in flames. The sunset slowly stopped.
Many panicked drivers abandoned their cars on the road and took off on foot, and emergency workers had to move vehicles aside to allow fire trucks to pass. Firefighters initially asked residents in some nearby areas to remain in place as there was no immediate danger and there was no easy way to escape.
The wind picked up, igniting the flames and pushing the embers up into the air, where they fell farther and farther, where they ignited new hot spots. The fire scorched mountainsides, gutted the Highlands, villages, and the rest of the Pacific Palisades before spreading west along the coast to Malibu.
Colin Fields and Vanita Bolwankar, who live off Palisades Drive, left in their car after receiving a text alert about a possible evacuation. By the time they left the condo at 11 a.m., the fire was slowing down, but traffic jams forced them to turn back. They climbed the hill back to Fields’ parents’ home on the edge of the canyon, where Fields and his brother sprayed hoses on the approaching flames and alerted firefighters to a flare-up.
