DURING THE FIRE. WHAT A NIGHT! DOUG FIRST OF ALL, BEHIND US IS THE TAMAYO CENTER. IT’S A TEMPORARY HOUSING FACILITY HERE IN FALL RIVER, WHICH MANY OF THE RESIDENTS WHO DID GET OUT, SAFE AND ALIVE, HAVE COME HERE LOOKING FOR HOUSING. THERE ARE ABOUT THEY CAN HANDLE ABOUT 35 PEOPLE HERE. WE WERE TOLD BY THE GOVERNOR JUST A FEW MINUTES AGO THAT THEY’VE ALMOST FOUND LONG-TERM HOUSING FOR MOST OF THOSE RESIDENTS. BUT TO YOUR POINT, DOUG, WE SPOKE TO MANY FAMILIES TODAY WHO TALKED ABOUT GETTING FAMILY MEMBERS OUT OF GABRIEL HOUSE OVERNIGHT. MY FRIEND IN THERE, ERNIE, CALLED ME FROM INSIDE. HE WAS ON THE FLOOR, YOU KNOW, CHOKING ON SMOKE AND EVERYTHING, AND HE SAID THE PLACE WAS CAUGHT ON FIRE. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHERE YOUR PATIENTS ARE? HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW HIS NAME? HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW HIS ROOM NUMBER? I UNDERSTAND IT’S ASSISTED LIVING AND YOU’RE NOT HANDS ON, BUT YOU’RE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE LIVES THAT ARE IN THAT BUILDING. RESIDENT LORRAINE FERRARO SAYS SHE’S LUCKY TO BE ALIVE. THE SMOKE WAS HEAVY IN THERE, AND I OPENED THE WINDOW AND I YELLED, HELP, HELP, HELP! AND THE FIREMEN CAME UP THE LADDER, BROKE THE WINDOW AND GOT ME OUT. I HAVE LADDERS ON TOP TO TAKE THE LADDERS OUT. COME OVER THERE, PUT THE LADDERS IN AND I COME OVER THERE AND I GO INSIDE AND I SEE THE MEN OVER THERE, AND I SEE HIS FACE OVER THERE. WHEN I GO ON TOP OF THE LADDER, HE’S ALMOST. HE DIED OVER THERE. AND I BREAK THE TWO WINDOWS. THIS MORNING, SISTER JUDITH COSTA PROVIDES COUNSELING AND KNOWS MANY OF THOSE LIVING INSIDE GABRIEL HOUSE, AND WAS TOLD SOME OF HER FRIENDS HAD PERISHED OVERNIGHT. IT’S VERY SAD FOR THE RESIDENTS AND VERY SAD FOR THE FAMILIES. SAD DAY FOR THE CITY OF FALL RIVER. WE JUST SAW SISTER JUDITH HEAD BACK INSIDE THE TAMAYO CENTER AGAIN. THIS IS A TEMPORARY HOUSING FACILITY. USUALLY THEY CAN HANDLE ABOUT 35 PEOPLE. THEY WERE FILLED UP EARLY THIS MORNING, OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE OF THE FIRE. THE GOVERNOR AND THE MAYOR OF FALL RIVER JUST CAME OUT TO SAY THEY HAVE FOUND LONGER TERM HOUSING FOR EVERYONE BUT SEVEN PEOPLE. THEY HOPE TO GET THOSE SEVEN TAKEN UP BY LATER TODAY OR TOMORROW. AFTER THIS DEVASTATING

Advertisement ‘Thought I was going to meet my maker,’ says resident rescued from Fall River fire 9 killed in assisted living facility fire, 30 hospitalized, dozens rescued Editorial Standards ⓘ

“Thank God I didn’t perish. I thought I was dead.”Loraine Ferrara was among the dozens rescued from the fire that burned the Gabriel House Assisted Living Residence in Fall River overnight. Unfortunately, nine of her neighbors did not survive. Firefighters responded to the building on Oliver Street at about 9:30 p.m. and immediately encountered heavy smoke and trapped residents hanging out of their windows, screaming for help.Ferrara said that a neighbor woke her up by banging on her door, but she didn’t respond immediately to the warning. When she got out of bed and opened the door, she encountered the thick smoke. “It was horrendous smoke. Heavy, heavy, heavy smoke. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. I couldn’t breathe,” said Ferrara. Ferrara said her apartment was near the exit door, but she couldn’t get to it. Instead, she went into the bathroom and opened the window. “I should’ve been able to get out, but I couldn’t,” she said. She said that firefighters broke a window to get her out and carried her down the ladder. “I really thought I was going to meet my maker,” Ferrara said, tearfully. “I did think that, so I’m so thankful to be alive.” Video below: ‘I’m so Thankful to be alive’Al Manza said he grabbed his oxygen tank and was trying to escape, but he also encountered thick smoke. “I went to my apartment door, my room door, I opened it, and all the smoke from the hall went right in my face. All I could do was just stand there and choke. I thought it was going to be the end of everything,” Manza said. He said two police officers grabbed him by his arms and guided him down the stairs to safety. Video below: ‘I thought it was going to be the end’The police department, fire department and EMS rescued “dozens” of residents from the facility to save multiple lives, Fall River Fire Department Chief Jeffrey Bacon said.”This is an unfathomable tragedy for the families involved and the Fall River community,” Bacon said. “On behalf of the Fall River Fire Department, I want to express our heartfelt condolences to the loved ones who are grieving this morning.”Some of the nine victims died at the scene, while others died after they were transported to local hospitals. One of the 30 people who was hospitalized remains in critical condition. Five firefighters who were transported to hospitals with minor injuries were later released.The fire damage was contained to one wing of the building; however, the smoke damage is throughout the entire facility, officials said.Displaced residents who survived the fire were taken to the Timao Center. Mayor Paul Coogan said the space is usually used as an overflow shelter during the winter but was temporarily activated to help with this emergency. Video below: Gov. Healey shares stories from survivors”They’re thankful they had a place to go last night. Obviously, we’re looking for permanent placements right now. We have one of our nursing homes is gonna take 20. We have 35 in there, so that will make a major dent. And then we’ll try to find placements for the other 15 as fast as we can,” Coogan said. A family reunification center is open at the chapel at St. Anne’s Hospital on Middle Street for families whose loved ones were residents at Gabriel House. Families can also call 508-674-5741 for assistance.

Representatives from the International Association of Fire Fighters held a press conference Monday afternoon to provide remarks.

Nine people are dead and about 30 people are injured, one critically, after a fire broke out at an assisted living facility in Fall River late Sunday night, Fall River’s fire chief said.

Press conference scheduled to start soon — 2:25 p.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

A press conference is set for 2:30 p.m. outside the Gabriel House assisted living facility. Representatives from the International Association of Fire Fighters were set to speak.

Eight people remain hospitalized at Charlton Memorial Hospital — 2:15 p.m. Link copied

By Emily Sweeney, Globe Staff

Twenty-eight people injured in the fire were taken to Charlton Memorial Hospital in Fall River last night, eight of whom are “still being cared for,” Southcoast Health said in a statement.

“We are grateful for the strong response, collaboration, and support from all first responders in our region, along with Mayor [Paul] Coogan’s leadership during this tragic event,” the statement said. “As the situation continues to evolve, we are working closely with city leadership to offer our support and resources to those impacted however helpful. We share our deepest condolences with everyone in our community affected by this tragedy.”

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‘We are a poor city but there’s a lot of caring people,’ chaplain says — 2:05 p.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Sister Judith Costa, a chaplain at St. Anne’s Hospital, arrived at the Tiamo Center on Monday morning “trying to do good and be of comfort to people,” she said.

Those who escaped the fire told her about the shock of it all, she said.

“But they are grateful that they are alive, these folks here,“Costa said. “And they told me they are so sad for those who died, the friends who died, but they don’t even know who they are right now.”

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Asked about the impact the fire will have on Fall River, Costa said, “we are a poor city but there’s a lot of caring people.”

”They will make it with the help of all of us,” Costa said.

Nursing assistant describes ‘disgusting’ conditions at Gabriel House: ‘Cockroaches, mice, broken elevators’ — 2:01 p.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Deborah Johnson, a certified nursing assistant who has worked at Gabriel House for four years, described the “disgusting” living quarters at the assisted living facility.

“I don’t like the way the residents were treated at Gabriel house,” she said in an interview at the Timao Center, where displaced residents of the facility were gathered Monday. “Cockroaches, mice, broken elevators, disgusting food, and that’s all the God’s honest truth.”

Johnson said she kept being told Gabriel House was cutting down on costs and residents were told to not use too much soap in their laundry.

“These people did not deserve what they got,” Johnson said. “They did not deserve those living quarters that they lived in. Disgusting, and that’s because a lot of them didn’t have family.”

Johnson said the elevator was broken for about nine months and a window was broken three weeks ago and was never fixed. She also said there were no fire drills or evacuation plans in case of an emergency.

On Sunday night, Johnson said she arrived at the building for her 10 p.m. shift. For as long as she has worked there, she said, only two CNAs work throughout the night, she said.

“Understaffed, that’s an understatement,” she said.

Johnson saw the fire when she arrived at work and watched firefighters carry residents down on ladders. She saw one of her residents in a window “afraid.”

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“I saw a horror show,” she said. “I was outside screaming.”

“I’m just horrified with the whole situation,” she said.

Survivor says he was reunited with his daughter’s ashes after fire — 1:52 p.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Within the past two years, Albert Almanza’s two daughters have both died.

He recalled Irene Berard and Talitha Cofiell as he described how he managed to escape Sunday night’s fire.

“All the smoke from the hall went right into my face and all I could do was just stand there and choke,” said Almanza, 77. “I thought it was going to be the end of everything.”

He recalled how an emergency responder grabbed him by the arm, and with the help of a second person, led him down the stairs.

“My whole family’s gone and I’m alone, and that made it worse,” he said. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Later, crews went back into the building and retrieved an urn that held Berard’s cremated remains, Governor Maura Healey told reporters.

“His daughter is with him now,” she said.

Having the remains returned to him was “priceless,” he said.

“She meant a lot to me – both of my kids,” he added. “They both meant a lot to me, and I would do my best to take care of them.”

‘They become part of your family,’ cook says of residents — 1:38 p.m. Link copied

By Omar Mohammed, Globe Staff

Paul Ferreira said he has worked as a cook at Gabriel House for five years. On Sunday, he left work at 6.30 p.m.

He was at home taking a nap when he saw the news about the fire.

“I thought it was a joke at first, and I’m like, ‘Are you kidding me?’” he said. “I don’t drive, so I walked all the way down here.“

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Ferreira praised the firefighters who battled the blaze.

”They did an excellent job. Look at the building still intact … you figured the building would be gone. They did a good job,” he said.

Ferreira said he stayed outside the home until 5 a.m. He said residents were brought to a parking lot near the building.

“Then they had buses that came and took some to, what do you call it, shelters,” he said. “Quite a few of them are in hospital.”

Ferreira said the facility has about 100 bedrooms, with about 70 residents from a range of backgrounds, including Italian, Portuguese, Polish.

“They made me laugh,” he said, saying they remained positive although some had no relatives. “They become part of your family.”

Senator Markey calls Fall River fire an ‘unimaginable tragedy’ — 1:37 p.m. Link copied

By Claire Thornton, Globe Staff

Senator Ed Markey said Monday that he is devastated by the deadly fire in Fall River and that he is praying for the victims’ families.

“I am devastated by this morning’s unimaginable tragedy in Fall River, and I am sending my prayers and support to the victims’ families,” the Democratic senator said in a Facebook post.

Markey also said he’s thankful for first responders “who bravely ran into the fire to save lives.”

“I wish all those injured a full and fast recovery,” he said.

‘It’s devastating,’ Governor Healey says after meeting survivors — 12:53 p.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Governor Maura Healey met with survivors on Monday morning at the Tiamo Center.

She said residents were being given their records and medication.

“It’s devastating,” she told reporters afterwards.

Many residents were in bed or were just about to go to sleep when the fire broke out, Healey said. A lot of them use wheelchairs or are immobile, she said.

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“They were disoriented, just struggling to figure out what’s going on,” Healey said.

She described the story of two brothers who managed to get out.

“One made it out into a hallway and couldn’t see a thing, but felt the hand of a firefighter reach out,” she said.

The other was rescued when a firefighter put an axe through a window, she said.

Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan said there were seven residents who still needed a place to go as of late morning.

City and state officials are “working hand-in-hand to make sure we take care of these people by the end of the day,” Coogan said.

Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey visited the Gabriel House assisted living facility where a deadly five-alarm fire broke out Sunday night. ( Olivia Yarvis/Globe Staff )

‘My soul has been ripped out,’ says resident who lost two friends in fire — 12:50 p.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Outside the Timao Center at noon, Lorraine Ferrara, a resident of Gabriel House for eight months, wiped tears away from her reddened eyes as she sat on a rock.

Ferrara, 71, was on the second floor of the assisted living facility on Sunday night when a worker “banged” on her door. When she opened it, the smoke “blew me back,” she said.

Ferrara could not get to the exit, and her room was quickly filling with smoke, she said.

She grabbed a towel and covered her nose.

“I thought I was going to die,” she said. “I thought this was it.”

“I just started yelling, ‘Help, help, second floor,’” Ferrara recalled.

Above her she heard screams of, “Help, help, third floor.”

A firefighter put his ladder up to Ferrara’s window, but she couldn’t open it.

“There’s no sense. I can’t get out,” she recalled telling him.

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“And he said ‘You’ve got to get out,’” Ferrara said of the firefighter. “So he broke the window and he got me down.”

Ferrara said she doesn’t remember being carried out of the building. When she came to, she was across the street looking back at the chaos.

“It was just a nightmare,” she said. “All the ambulances and fire trucks. People screaming. It was crazy.”

Ferrara said two of her “dear friends” died in the fire.

“They both tell me everyday they love me, and I tell them I love them,” Ferrara said, crying softly.

“My soul has been ripped out,” she said.

Gabriel House resident says elevator at facility was broken for more than eight months — 12:45 p.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Evacuated Gabriel House resident Michael Pimentel, 72, sat in his wheelchair next to his longtime friend Russell Silvia, 41, outside of the Timao Center Monday morning.

The pair said they had called news stations multiple times urging people to investigate the facility. Silvia said when he visited, it smelled like “urine.”

“Mice in beds,” Silvia said.

“Cockroaches,” Pimentel added.

Pimentel said the elevator at the facility was broken for eight and a half months and had just recently been fixed a couple of weeks ago. A few days ago it was broken again for a day, he said. Other residents and family members outside Timao Center also mentioned the broken elevator.

“You got people that are in wheelchairs that couldn’t come out for over eight and a half months,” Silvia said, “that did not come outside.”

When asked Monday about reports of a broken elevator, Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan said he had “not heard anything … I do not know a thing about the elevator.“

He said the elevator was last inspected on July 8.

“If something happened it would have to have been after July 8,” he said.

Pimentel said his concerns about the building were reaffirmed when he saw the smoke on Sunday night.

He said there were no lights that went off with the fire alarms and no illumination of exit signs.

Pimentel and Silvia lost a friend in the fire, a Vietnam veteran.

“Very honorable,” Pimentel said of the man.

Both men shook their heads in disappointment about the situation.

“It was bound to happen,” Silvia said. “It’s going to take a fire for a light to get shined over there.”

Michael Pimentel, 72, (L) a resident of the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility where a fire killed 9 people places his hand to his head as he rests outside of the Timao Center where he was evacuated to in Fall River, MA on July 14, 2025. Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff

9 patients currently hospitalized at St. Anne’s Hospital in Fall River — 12:33 p.m. Link copied

By Emily Sweeney, Globe Staff

Fifteen people injured in the Gabriel House fire were treated at St. Anne’s Hospital last night, hospital officials said.

Nine patients are currently hospitalized and in stable condition, four patients were treated and discharged, and two patients were transferred to Rhode Island Hospital for specialized treatment, according to Brown University Health, a health system that includes St. Anne’s Hospital in Fall River and Rhode Island Hospital in Providence.

“Saint Anne’s Hospital and Brown University Health extend our deepest condolences to the families and loved ones affected by last night’s devastating fire at the Gabriel House assisted living facility in Fall River,” a Saint Anne’s Hospital spokesperson said in a statement.

“The loss of life and the trauma experienced by residents, staff and first responders are heartbreaking, and our thoughts are with the entire Fall River community during this tragic time.”

Samaritans group ready to help community cope — 12:31 p.m. Link copied

By Claire Thornton, Globe Staff

The local group Samaritans Southcoast says is ready to help the Fall River community cope with emotional distress related to the Gabriel House fire.

“Fall River, we mourn with you and stand ready to care for one another,” said the post on Facebook attributed to the group’s executive director, Darcy H. Lee.

The suicide prevention nonprofit, which was previously called Samaritans of Fall River/New Bedford, is located in Westport, about seven miles from the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility.

“This is a powerful moment to hold space in your heart for the families, seniors, first responders, and neighbors affected,” the group’s post said.

Auchincloss mourns Gabriel House victims, wishes those injured ‘a full recovery Link copied

By Claire Thornton, Globe Staff

Representative Jake Auchincloss said Monday he is mourning the victims of the deadly blaze in Fall River, which is located in the southern portion his congressional district.

In a post on his Facebook page, Auchincloss said he is thinking of those who died in the fire and the dozens of residents who were injured.

“I mourn for the nine Fall River residents who died in last night’s fire, and I am keeping the over 30 hospitalized residents in my thoughts, wishing them all a full recovery,” the post said.

Auchincloss thanked fire fighters and first responders, whom he said “prevented an even greater tragedy.”

The Democratic congressman said he will maintain close communication with Fall River’s mayor, “in support of the city and its residents.”

What we know about how the Fall River tragedy unfolded — 12:19 p.m. Link copied

By Christina Prignano, Globe Staff

Firefighters responded to reports of a building fire at the Gabriel House in Fall River at about 9:30 p.m. Sunday. Here’s a breakdown of what we know.

What we know about the fire at a Fall River assisted living facility A fire at the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility late Sunday night claimed nine lives. Heavy fire was coming from the front door of the facility when firefighters responded around 9:30 p.m., officials said. The fire was contained to one wing of the building, but smoke traveled throughout the facility, and fire officials said victims were found “everywhere” in the building. Residents broke windows to escape the smoke and firefighters plucked some people from windows. Nine people were killed in the fire, with many more injured. SOURCE: Globe reporting, Fall River Fire Department. CREDIT: Ryan Huddle/Globe staff; Photograph by MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE; Gabriel House building Google Earth. ← →

Neighbors saw fire, first responders bloodied and covered in soot — 12:10 p.m. Link copied

By Maria Probert, Globe Correspondent

Neighbors living near the Gabriel House facility said they saw the fire from their homes last night and watched firemen pull out bodies from the back of the building’s middle right window.

One resident described firemen and policemen with ripped uniforms, bloodied and covered in soot. Others described a chaotic scene and fighting in the parking lot among residents who wanted to go inside and help pull out people from the fire.

Several windows at the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility in Fall River are broken after residents attempted to escape a fire that broke out Sunday night. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

Gabriel House owner once charged with paying kickbacks to get MassHealth clients — 11:50 a.m. Link copied

By John R. Ellement, Globe Staff

Dennis D. Etzkorn, the long-time owner of the Gabriel House assisted living facility, was indicted for paying kickbacks to get Mass Health clients, but the charges were dropped after judges ruled investigators obtained key records illegally, records show.

Etzkorn, who holds all of the offices for Gabriel Care Inc., was charged with paying $150 to individual health care providers who steered potential MassHealth clients to the Oliver Street facility, according to state and court records.The alleged scam generated “in excess of $2 million improperly procured” by Etzkorn, another person and Gabriel Care, according to court records. But Superior Court judges ruled then-Attorney General Martha Coakley’s office had obtained financial records illegally and barred them from being used against Etzkorn during a trial.

In the aftermath of the judicial rulings in Etzkorn’s favor, prosecutors permanently ended the case against him in 2015, records show.

Governor Healey offers her ‘deepest condolences,’ praises work of first responders on the scene — 11:45 a.m. Link copied

By Amanda Kaufman, Globe Staff

Governor Healey, speaking outside of the Gabriel House on Monday morning, offered her “deepest condolences” to the families and friends of those who were killed in the fire and praised the “heroic work” of first responders and Fall River officials who responded to the scene.

“I just want to say to the families and friends of those who perished, I offer my condolences, deepest condolences and sympathy on behalf of the Commonwealth for this tragic loss,” Healey said. “We lost nine folks last night in this terrible tragedy and our hearts and our sympathies are with their families.”

Healey said five firefighters who were treated at the hospital have been released.

Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan (L) and Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey walk past the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility after a fire there killed 9 people in Fall River, MA on July 14, 2025. Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff

“As you can see this is a fairly massive structure, massive facility, it housed nearly 70 people and thank god the vast, vast majority of them were able to be taken out,” Healey said.

“Most of them were people who needed help as you see from some of the footage and what I’ve seen,” she added.

”These are people who are not able to move themselves, they were not mobile themselves, and therefore the work that fire and police and EMS did to get people out was truly amazing.”

Healey pledged that her administration “will do everything we can to offer support and assistance,” and she added that the administration is in the process of rehousing the residents who were displaced.

Nine people are dead and about 30 people injured, one critically, after a five-alarm fire broke out at an assisted living facility in Fall River Sunday night. ( Olivia Yarvis/Globe Staff )

Assisted living residences are required to prepare for fires — 11:40 a.m. Link copied

By Marin Wolf, Globe Staff

State regulations require facilities like the Gabriel House to have emergency management plans ready for potential disasters, including fires. The plans must include evacuation strategies and “shall address the physical and cognitive needs of residents.” Staff must also be trained on and periodically review the plans.

The Gabriel House is an assisted living residence, meaning that it’s a private facility that offers services like housing, meals, and personal care services to adults who live independently, according to the Massachusetts Office of Aging & Independence.

Assisted living residences differ from nursing homes, which are licensed by the Massachusetts Department of Public Health and provide 24-hour and short-term care for people experiencing frailty, recovering from hospitalizations, or living with physical or neurological disabilities.

Uncle of resident: ‘Housing and accommodation are pretty tough right now’ — 11:05 a.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Paul MacDonald was waiting outside the Timao Center on Monday to be reunited with his nephew, Scott Allan, 61.

Allan is impaired from the waist down and uses an electric scooter to get around, MacDonald said.

“This was a good spot. He was very social here,” MacDonald said. “He kind of came out of his funk while he was at the Gabriel House. So hopefully you know he can find something that’s similar to that down the road.”

MacDonald, of Hull, was relieved Allan made it out of the fire but he was already thinking about the challenge of finding new accommodations.

“Housing and accommodation are pretty tough right now so I can’t imagine what these folks are going through trying to find, you know, something reasonable for them to get them resettled,” he said.

Officials remove boxes of medication that belonged to the residents of the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility where a fire killed 9 people in Fall River, MA on July 14, 2025. Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff

Governor Healey arrives at scene — 10:57 a.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent and Omar Mohammed, Globe Staff

Governor Maura Healey has arrived at the scene of the Gabriel House. She is being accompanied by Mayor Paul Coogan and other city officials.

‘Where am I going to live?’ — 10:57 a.m. Link copied

By Maria Probert, Globe Correspondent

Scott Allan, 61, said he had lived at the Gabriel House since 2022. On Sunday, Allan, who lived on the bottom floor, awoke to hear knocking at the door and saw firemen with axes trying to get in.

“Lots of flames coming out of these windows out front​ and flames coming out of the porch,” Allan​, who uses a wheelchair.

Allan said he knew five people who died in the fire, one a retired veteran. He is waiting on family to figure out next steps.

“Where am I going to live?” Allan ​asked.

Workers board up the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility after a fire there killed 9 people in Fall River, MA on July 14, 2025. Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff

Signs of normalcy near scene of fire — 10:47 a.m. Link copied

By Omar Mohammed, Globe Staff

On Oliver Street, car traffic was moving slowly by the Gabriel House of Fall River, a sign of normalcy returning even as the city grapples with the tragic fire that claimed the lives of nine residents.

Governor expected to speak at Gabriel House soon — 10:45 a.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Governor Maura Healey is expected to speak at Gabriel House shortly, according to city officials.

Fire officials continued to clear boxes out of the facility.

Gabriel House advertised 24-hour emergency response — 10:42 a.m. Link copied

By Marin Wolf, Globe Staff

The Gabriel House lists different housing plans on its website that include a round-the-clock emergency response system and 24-hour staffing.

The basic service plan advertises electronic monitoring systems including video cameras with an intercom. A studio apartment could cost up to $2,400 per month, according to the facility’s website.

The property, located at 261 Oliver St. in Fall River, was most recently appraised at nearly $5 million and has 88 units.

Fire victims were taken to three area hospitals — 10:33 a.m. Link copied

By Emily Sweeney, Globe Staff

Fall River’s Department of Emergency Medical Services said the fire victims were sent to three hospitals: Charlton Memorial Hospital in Fall River, St. Anne’s Hospital in Fall River, and Rhode Island Hospital in Providence.

A woman surveys damage at the entrance to the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility in Fall River Monday morning after a fire broke out Sunday night killing nine residents and injuring several others. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

Healey to visit fire scene — 10:25 a.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Governor Maura Healey was slated to visit the scene of the fire on Monday morning, a Fall River city official told the Globe.

Mayor says next step is finding a home for the displaced residents — 10:22 a.m. Link copied

By Omar Mohammed, Globe Staff

Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan said the next step is trying to find long-term placement for the residents.

“Next steps are, find a home for those 39 residents that are down in the Timao Center. Support the owner here while he boards this place up. Make sure we have, we don’t have people going in there looking for any valuables or drugs or anything,” he said.

“We have the owner here. He’s got his crew here planning to board up the building,” he said. “He’s gonna secure it and he’s gonna have someone here watching it. And we’re working with our residents that were displaced to find an appropriate placement for them where they’re gonna be safe and warm and get their medicine and feel comfortable again.”

He added: “I know this is a tremendous upheaval to people when they’re yanked out of their house on about five minutes notice, so. We’re heading there right now, we’re doing our best to accommodate the residents. That’s what we’re gonna make sure we take care of.”

An air conditioner sits in the charred window of the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility on Oliver Street in Fall River Monday morning. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

‘I don’t think we’ve ever faced something like this,’ Fall River mayor says — 10:20 a.m. Link copied

By Omar Mohammed, Globe Staff

Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan, looking distraught as he stood outside Gabriel House Monday morning, said the deadly fire is the most difficult thing the city has faced in his six years as mayor.

“I don’t think we’ve ever faced something like this,” he said. “It’s a bit much.”

He said he got a call about the fire at about 9:30 p.m. Sunday night as he was getting ready for bed and arrived at the scene at about 10 p.m., he said.

“That parking lot over there was full of people sitting on the ground, sitting on stretchers, and the wheels were already spinning about where are we gonna place these people right now,” he said. “Everybody activated their contacts and we got these people placed. And we got them breakfast this morning.

”In total, there were 69 residents in the facility. There have been 9 fatalities and about 30 injured with one in “very critical condition,” he said.

Five firefighters were injured but they are all okay, he said.

“It was a team effort of people that were able to pull this off. As you can see, this is a very busy street. The fire never spread. And we got our people placed in a moment’s notice in a place where they could take a shower, get breakfast and sleep,” he said.

The remaining residents have been placed at Timao Center.

On whether inspections for the property were up to date, Coogan said that he didn’t have all the information on that yet.

“The building is inspected every year as is all of our nursing homes. I’ve never heard anything tremendous about the place or negative. So I can’t really comment,” he said.

‘Big relief’ as resident reunites with his family — 10:17 a.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Around 6:45 a.m., Tammy Stephens received a Teams chat on her phone from people she worked with that Gabriel House was on fire. Her brother, Chris, has lived in the facility for eight years.

Stephens, her son, Chris, and her sister, Holly DeLuca, rushed to Fall River from Marion and Fairhaven, unsure where they were going and seeing reports of multiple fatalities online. They didn’t know if Chris, her brother who is partially blind, was safe.

“It was fear,” Chris Stephens said. “That was the first reaction, and then confusion.”

The family called his cell phone over and over with no answer.

“There were reports on social media that there were dead bodies still in the building,” Chris said.

“That compounded everything.”

Chris Stephens said as they drove his mom’s voice “cracked” and she was “crying.” He tried as best he could to “keep it together for her.”

Eventually, the family made their way to the Timao Center, where they found Chris.

“When I first saw him inside the building he was dazed and confused,” DeLuca said. “I could see he was traumatized.”

DeLuca pulled her brother in close as relief washed over her. DeLuca said her brother’s girlfriend died in the fire and he was “upset.”

Tammy said the situation was “frightening” and she wished she found out about the situation somewhere other than a work group chat.

“I’m upset because I can tell he’s traumatized,” Tammy said of her brother. “I’m upset there wasn’t some way to find out in a better way or contact the family.

”Outside of Timao Center, the family gathered around a car while Chris sat in the front seat. There’s no official word on where the residents will stay now, Chris Stephens said.

“Obviously, we’re not going to abandon my uncle,” he said.

“We’re going to do what we have to do to make sure he gets back on his feet.”

“We’re just glad that he’s here,” he added. “It’s terrible for the residents and their families.”

‘We’re all homeless now,’ resident says — 10:16 a.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Kerry Leckey, 58, just moved into the assisted living facility two months ago and was previously homeless, she said.

“I’m supposed to have a leg immobilizer on … I’m still not healed but we had to get out of there quick, so we couldn’t grab anything,” Leckey said.

“I was lucky to get this and bring it with me,” she said, referring to a walker she had with her outside the Tiamo Center on Monday morning. “But most people didn’t even get that.”

Leckey said she has made a few friends in the short time she has lived at the facility. She said Monday she believed three of them died.

“You see this stuff on the news and you don’t really know until you’re actually in a situation like this what it feels like,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “It’s sad. I mean, people are walking around down there with soot all over them. They’re just trying to get out of the building and they’re literally covered in soot.”

Leckey is now worried about being homeless again.

“We’re lucky to have our lives and that we got through it but… we’re all homeless now,” Leckey said.

Resident describes breaking window to escape — 9:45 a.m. Link copied

By Christopher Gavin, Globe Staff

Outside the Tiamo Center on Monday, residents were trying to make sense of what had happened.

Michael Pimentel, 72, who has lived at the facility for eight years, said he was dozing off Sunday night when the fire broke out. It was “pitch black, smoke up the yin-yang,” he said.

Michael Pimentel, 72, a resident of the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility where a fire killed 9 people places his hand to his head as he rests outside of the Timao Center where he was evacuated to in Fall River, MA on July 14, 2025. Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff

When the alarms went off, Pimentel, who has a congenital condition with his left hand and has two prosthetic legs, went into a bathroom, he said.

He stood up and tried to open a window, but it only opened a few inches, he said.

“I could only get it open that much, and I’m screaming at the firemen to help me out and other people. I finally got fed up with that and I stood up and I grabbed the top of that window and I ripped it right off the hinges,” he added.

“Then I took the top window, brought that down, and ripped that one off. Then I banged out the screen to give me plenty of room for them to take me out.”

He said he saw flames 10 feet tall at one point.

“It was pretty traumatic,” he said.

Michael Pimentel, who escaped the Fall River fire, is comforted by Sister Judith Costa, chaplain at St Anne’s Hospital, outside the Timao Center on Monday. Christopher Gavin/Globe Staff

‘I was just hoping I was going to make it,’ resident says of fatal fire — 9:37 a.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Around 9:30 p.m. on Sunday, firefighters pulled Neal Beck from his third-floor window at Gabriel House.

“I was just hoping I was going to make it,” Beck, 78 said Monday outside of Timao Center, where residents displaced by the fire have been moved. “I was thinking about jumping out the bathroom window, but thank God I didn’t because it’s too high.”

Beck was in bed when the fire alarms went off. When he opened the door to the hallway, he found that the “whole place is full of smoke,” he said.

“I went out and I couldn’t see nothing and shut that door. That smoke was horrible stuff.”

Beck said his room smelled of burning rugs and plastic.

Upon hearing that nine people had died around 9:15 a.m, Beck shook his head.

“Oh my God, that’s outrageous,” he said. “I’m totally shocked. It’s unreal.”

Beck said he has lived at Gabriel House for about five years and described it as “nice” and “cordial.”

“Thank God God was on my side and I was able to get out,” Beck said.

This image taken from video provided by WLNE-TV shows damage from a fire at an assisted living facility in Fall River, Mass., Sunday, July 13, 2025. Uncredited/Associated Press

Gabriel House resident says people were ‘yelling’ and ‘banging’ on windows trying to get out — 9:30 a.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Outside of the Timao Center, a reunification center in Fall River where Gabriel House residents have been moved, residents stood outside smoking cigarettes and workers from the assisted living facility hugged them or asked them how they were doing.

Shirley Cambra, 75, has lived at Gabriel House for six years. She was outside of Timao Center sitting in a walker smoking a cigarette with another resident.

Cambra said that around 9:30 p.m. Sunday night, she was outside smoking a cigarette with four other residents at Gabriel House.

She said smoke was everywhere and fire was shooting out of an AC unit.

“All these lights are flashing inside, and people are banging [on the windows] wanting to get out,” Cambra said. “They’re yelling and I couldn’t help. I kept going ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute.’”

Cambra said she doesn’t know who the nine people are who died.

“I feel terrible,” she said. “There’s no way we could’ve helped them.”

“It was just a disaster,” she continued. “Worse thing I ever saw in my life.”

Gabriel House maintenance worker: ‘I got close’ to the residents — 9:04 a.m. Link copied

By Ava Berger, Globe Correspondent

Outside of Gabriel House Monday morning, Nelson Gonzalez, 65, of New Bedford, a maintenance worker at the facility said during his last shift on Friday, he was with the residents while they had a picnic.

Gonzalez had only been working at the facility for eight months but he said he had grown close with the residents.

One of the women who died had just won a writing competition through the assisted living facility’s activities room, he said.

“I got close,” Gonzalez said. “They told me not to get close… I did make friends with a lot of the residents here, and unfortunately a few of them passed away.”

When he left from work on Friday, Gonzalez told the residents, “I’ll see you guys Monday.”

One of the residents said: “Well, not sure because tomorrow’s not guaranteed.”

“That was one of them that passed away,” Gonzalez said, his voice heavy. “I told him, ‘I’ll see you Monday.’ He says, ‘Well, no God willing because tomorrow’s not guaranteed.’ And he passes away.”

See photos of the scene overnight — 8:55 a.m. Link copied

A fire officer walked from the front entrance of the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility on Oliver Street in Fall River early Monday morning. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

A resident of the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility on Oliver Street in Fall River was wheeled to an ambulance late Sunday night. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

Firefighters from mutliple departments congregated outside of the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility on Oliver Street in Fall River, Mass., late Sunday night after a fire displaced several residents and caused injuries. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

See more photos.

Healey says ‘full investigation’ into Gabriel House fire underway — 8:41 a.m. Link copied

By John R. Ellement, Globe Staff

Governor Maura Healey said a “full investigation” into the cause of the fatal fire at the Gabriel House is underway and that she considered the incident a “tragedy.”

“My heart goes out to those who are waking up to the most horrific news imaginable about their loved ones this morning. I’m grateful to the firefighters and first responders whose heroic efforts saved lives. We are all praying for those who lost loved ones and for the full recovery of those who were injured,” she said in a statement Monday.

Healey said she has been in contact with Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan and “offered the full assistance of the state. I know the people of Fall River are strong and resilience, and now is the time for us to all come together to support one another through this terrible tragedy.”

Here’s where the facility is located — 8:21 a.m. Link copied

By Christina Prignano, Globe Staff

Firefighters encountered chaotic scene, fire chief says — 8:14 a.m. Link copied

By John R. Ellement, Globe Staff

Fall River Fire Chief Jeffrey Bacon said firefighters confronted a chaotic scene when they arrived on Oliver Street.

“When they pulled up, obviously our first priority is life safety,” Bacon said. “So when you pull up to a building and the first thing you see is the fire – but then you seen multiple that are asking to be helped and begging to be helped out the windows. That’s where it complicates the scene. It makes everything more difficult.”

At least nine dead, 30 injured, officials say — 8:09 a.m. Link copied

By John R. Ellement, Globe Staff

Nine people are dead and some 30 people injured, one critically, after a five-alarm fire broke out at an assisted living facility in Fall River late Sunday night, Fall River Fire Chief Jeffrey Bacon said Monday.

Bacon told reporters that when firefighters arrived at the Gabriel House Assisted Living Facility on Oliver Street just after 9:30 p.m. Sunday, they found people hanging out of the building needing rescue.

He said nine people were killed and that some died inside the facility while others were pronounced dead at various hospitals where they were rushed by first responders.

“We’re here to save lives, and anytime that any life is lost, a single life is lost, is a tragedy. In our minds, it’s a failure of our job,” Bacon said Monday around 7:15 a.m. “But we know that there are forces beyond our control, and that’s things like this, unfortunately happen.”

Residents of the Gabriel House in Fall River, Massachusetts described the terrifying moments that smoke filled the assisted living home and they had to find a way to escape. The fire, which broke out late Sunday night, killed nine people.

Firefighters and police officers rushed into the building on Oliver Street to help people out of the building.

According to Fall River Fire Chief Jeffrey Bacon, more than 30 people were taken to hospitals and five firefighters suffered minor injuries in addition to the nine who lost their lives.

Man describes escape from Gabriel House fire

Albert Almanza had just gone to bed when he heard commotion outside. Almanza said he went to the bathroom, looked out the window and saw ambulances and fire trucks.

“I went to my room door, I opened it, all the smoke from the hall went right in my face and all I could do was stand there and choke,” Almanza said. “And I thought it was going to be the end of everything. The officer turned around and said to my ‘Walk this way.’ And I couldn’t even see the door. He said ‘Grab a hold of my hand.’ And I couldn’t even see that.”

Almanza uses an oxygen tank and has a difficult time walking. He was able to walk alongside the officer down the stairs to safety.

“My whole family’s gone and I’m alone,” said Almanza, whose two daughters died in recent years. “That made it even worse. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“I thought I was going to die”

Lorraine Ferrara lives on the second floor of the facility. She said two of her good friends died in the fire.

“I will never forget this nightmare. Never,” Ferrara said.

Ferrara has lived at Gabriel House for about eight months. She heard loud noises Sunday night, and quickly realized there was an emergency.

“I went and opened the door and the smoke just hit me. It filled my whole room and the bathroom. I tried to get out. I couldn’t make it to the exit door,” Ferrara said, adding that when she walked out into the hallway she was hit by hot water from the sprinkler system. “I thought I was going to die. I thought this was it. It’s all over for me. That’s what I thought.”

Ferrara went to her bathroom and called for help from the window.

“The smoke was heavy in there. I opened the window and I yelled ‘Help! Help! Help!’ The fireman came up the ladder, broke the window and got me out and carried me down the ladder,” she said.

The cause of the fire is still under investigation.

T he sun rose over Los Angeles County at 6:59 a.m. on Jan. 7 with many of its residents already on high alert.

In Malibu, David Hertz had spent most of the night prowling around Xanabu, his aptly named 150-acre property nestled four miles above the Pacific Coast Highway. Hertz is a quintessential Southern Californian, a thick-haired 64-year-old surfer and architect bent on building multi­million-dollar homes with recycled material. He was famous for designing and then living in Venice’s Californication House — featured in the Showtime series of the same name that starred David Duchovny — and the 747 Wing House, a residence adjacent to his current property constructed out of airplane wings. His grandfather had moved out from New York in​​ the 1930s and owned what became known as the Hertz-Paramount Ranch in nearby Agoura Hills, where countless episodes of Gunsmoke and other Westerns had been filmed.

In the days before seat belts and helmet laws, Hertz’s father, Dr. Robert Hertz, performed facial-reconstruction surgeries at UCLA’s hospital. His dad would peel scorched visages back and then patiently reconstruct them. Hertz grew up skateboarding in Dogtown and then, in the evening, peeking at his dad’s slides of faces horribly burned and mangled. In a way, it mirrored Hertz’s experiences here in the Santa Monica Mountains, with the eternal cycle of burning, destruction, and rebuilding. All of it was etched into his personal history. One of his earliest memories is of a news report describing a forest fire that started on the Hertz-Paramount Ranch.

Despite that past, or maybe because of it, Hertz bought his current combustible ­property in 2017. The land had been owned by the artist Tony Duquette, who built a spectacular ersatz village called Sortilegium (Latin for “fortune-telling”) in the 1980s that featured spires and pagodas from the sets Duquette had designed for The King and I. Duquette wasn’t known for his attention to fire safety — other Duquette properties burned in San Francisco and Beverly Hills — and his landscaping made the roads to the property impassable to fire trucks. In 1993, the Green Meadow Fire quickly scorched 44,000 acres. While other nearby properties were saved, much of Duquette’s place burned to the ground.

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“In its last moments, each little house and pavilion lighted up in glory and was beautiful,” Duquette said after the fire. “And then they were gone.”

Hertz began restoring the remnants of Duquette’s village that had survived Green Meadow. He built a lodge-like residence that looked up to Duquette-inspired spires. It didn’t take long for the danger to come to his front door. In 2018, the Woolsey Fire surrounded Xanabu, leaving stallions at an adjacent ranch shrieking in terror. Power and communication failed. Hertz and his caretakers held off the flames as the fire licked the edge of his property. Eventually, some surfer friends arrived and tamped down embers and watered down Xanabu. Still, Hertz fled the land, driving his truck through fire after three days of fighting the flames. Exhausted, he called his wife.

“It’s all gone.”

Architect and volunteer firefighter David Hertz, 64, is lifelong Los Angeles resident. Laura Doss

But it wasn’t. The wind changed, and Xanabu was spared. Hertz vowed to do better. He installed an elaborate sprinkler system and made the property water self-sufficient with a creation called SkySource that grabbed moisture out of the air and stored it in giant tanks on the property. (The invention won him an XPrize for innovation.) He put a repeater on top of a nearby mountain to improve radio communication in case cellular service was knocked out.

Hertz and friends professionalized their own fire-defense abilities, forming eight fire brigades that trained and worked with the L.A. County Fire Department. They were never intended to be frontline fighters, concentrating more on evacuation and mopping up fires that were already mostly out. One benefit was that they could bring what they learned to protect their own homes. Related Content

Still, Hertz knew it might not be enough. Climate change had already moved in, causing schizophrenic changes in the weather. Los Angeles experienced wet winters in 2022 and 2023 that left brush the height of corn stalks before harvest. A biblical drought came in 2024, and now the brush kindled waiting for a spark.

On the night of Jan. 6, the U.S. Forest Service issued extreme red-flag warnings, indicating “imminent danger.” Hertz walked through Xanabu in the dark, checking his sprinklers, his fire equipment, and his truck. The sun came up, and Hertz, in his yellow fire jacket and boots, listened to his radio. He knew the fire was coming — he just didn’t know from where.

So he waited.

IN ALTADENA, 77-YEAR-OLD John Joyce greeted the high-wind warning with excitement. He woke up around 8 a.m., put on his glasses, and ran his hands through his steel-wool-gray hair. Finally, Joyce reasoned, he could begin to repay the debt he owed Jeff Ricks, the owner of two Altadena houses and a series of adjacent cottages Joyce managed in exchange for a place that he had called home since 1998.

Managed is not exactly the right word since Joyce also served as muse/wise uncle to the 28 artists who lived in the two main houses (known as 2656 and 466), cottages, and ­converted garages forming what the residents like to call John Joyce University, a name he hated because he believes in collective progress, not individuality.

The residences were happy places, with a playhouse for kids on the porch. The front yard was often filled with stretched canvases of the paintings they were working on. Inside, art was everywhere, from abstract works to giant ­papier-mâché puppet heads. There were Bernie Sanders signs and a giant Thelonious Monk poster. You might wander into the living room and find Joyce sawing at his work table, while a performance artist slowly danced with a CPR dummy as the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” played in the background.

Much of Joyce’s life had been tumultuous, marked by fleeing the Bay Area in the late 1960s after not reporting to his draft board. He wandered the country, battling depression, until he landed in Altadena in the 1990s. Unincorporated and wild, the town on the edge of L.A. suited him.

John Joyce, who manages property in Altadena, has lived there for 27 years. Courtesy of John Joyce

Two decades ago, Joyce had fallen in love with Susie Stroll, a photographer and professor. But they were at different stages of life: She had free time and wanted to travel; he still had to work and was happy in his artist community. They broke up. In 2022, Stroll found Joyce’s address and wrote him a letter. She said turning her back on him 16 years ago had been her biggest regret.

They began seeing each other again in January 2024. Almost immediately, Stroll started having problems with her balance and speaking. In November, she was diagnosed with ALS and was moved into an assisted-­living facility in nearby Pasadena. Stroll’s throat constricted, which made eating solid foods impossible. Joyce had a solution. Every day, he would buy a pumpkin pie and then ride his Triumph motorcycle to see her. There he’d mash the pie and feed her tiny fragments.

Her condition worsened, and she was transferred into hospice, just a few blocks from Joyce’s home. She died on Nov. 24. Still grieving, Joyce felt guilty about the chores and projects he had ignored on Ricks’ properties. The high-wind warning gave him a chance to catch up. There were things to tie down, and Ricks’ extensive automobile collection, including two Mercedes and a classic Ford Galaxy, had to be repositioned far from bending trees and other debris.

UNINCORPORATED AND WILD, THE TOWN ON THE EDGE OF L.A. SUITED HIM.

“I can be the hero,” thought Joyce.

Joyce got himself a cup of coffee in the shared kitchen. A writer was grumbling that Donald Trump’s imminent return to office had left him unmotivated. Joyce suggested he look at it a different way.

“The Marxists say all you have to do to destroy capitalism is let it naturally do itself in,” said Joyce. “Let history just go and it will turn into total fraud, and it’ll turn into a monopoly. It will self-destruct. We can do the same with Trump.”

Joyce and his friend agreed the world could use a little destruction.

He went outside to start on his chores. The whipping debris drove him back inside. He put on a bike helmet for protection. A few minutes later, he returned and switched to his motorcycle helmet. He flipped the visor down and began moving the cars.

A BLOCK AWAY, Joyce’s best friend, Molly Tierney, a photographer, cleaned up her home and left food out for her cat, Wallace, named after the California artist Wallace Berman. Tierney was from Minnesota, where she played on a hockey team before moving to Altadena and a spot in the 2656 home. Friends joked that she still lived her life like she had a stick in her hand. Joyce knew the artist to be a young, wise soul, and after four years, he urged her to check out an abandoned house about 50 yards away.

Tierney decided to squat on the property, a decision Joyce supported. She lived in a makeshift shack for the first five months without running water. Slowly, she began clearing six tons of debris out of the century-old home and quietly paid back taxes on the property. From mail deliveries, she realized the property was owned by a trust run by a man who died without an heir. Tierney consulted a lawyer who told her to stay on the property but make no waves for at least five years. She went further and waited a decade. Tierney scored legal possession of the home during the pandemic. It still didn’t feel quite real.

Artist Molly Tierney has lived in Altadena for 19 years. Courtesy of Molly Tierney

The artist had not slept much the past two nights. The Santa Ana winds kept her awake. Overcaffeinated, she was stressed, but Joyce calmed her, telling her that windstorms and fire threats were part of life, but would never reach them, a good mile below the Altadena foothills.

Reassured, Tierney cleaned up her home and brought in some outside furniture. There was a friend to pick up at LAX airport that night, and her day job working for the artist Paul McCarthy was busy in a good way. The friend was an admirer of her art, and they had been corresponding for months. She jumped into her Ford Focus, clearing some falling brush from the windshield, and headed to the McCarthy studio in nearby Lincoln Heights. Her friend’s plane was due to arrive at 8 p.m. She didn’t want to be late.

A MILE WEST, Donald Kincey got ready for his job, teaching second-graders at the Chandler School in nearby Pasadena, where the kids called him Mr. Donny. Kincey also ran the school’s after-care program, so his days could stretch 10 hours. His friends ­marveled at the 46-year-old’s endless energy and patience.

“Kids get me,” Kincey told them with a smile. “I just talk to them like little human beings, and it works.”

Forty-six-year-old teacher Donald Kinsey has lived in Altadena his whole life. Courtesy of Donald Kincey

Kincey was born and raised in Altadena. For nearly a century, the town had served as a haven for African Americans while many other towns still had sundown laws and operated under the bullwhip of Jim Crow. Kincey’s family traced their California roots to his grandparents fleeing Oklahoma after the 1921 Tulsa race massacre. They found a home here, with jobs as mechanics and postal workers. Not that it was perfect; both Kincey’s father and grandfather reported being followed home by county sheriff’s officers throughout their lives.

Kincey was both in and out of the community as a kid. Attending public schools, he was careful not to wear baseball caps that might be mistaken for gang symbols, but he could ride his bike all over town. It was the urban-­rural mix of Altadena that he loved the most. He shot baskets at nearby Farnsworth Park, watched the creative types planting flowers in abandoned bathtubs, and then cruised by the liquor store where cowboys from the neighborhood’s horse farms would tie up their horses while they bought a six-pack. Kincey swam and played soccer in the supposedly more-affluent Pasadena, but Altadena was his home. He went to Morehouse College to study, and loved the vibrant Black culture of Atlanta, but something kept calling him back.

I HAD RELUCTANTLY left Los Angeles for Vancouver in September after two years in Santa Monica, where my boy could play basketball outside every day of the year. My family had preceded me, and before I left, I made the drive up to the Reel Inn, a Malibu fish shack I’d hit maybe a hundred times over the past two decades.

It had been about 100 days since my last meal at the Reel Inn. Since then, I had crisscrossed the country covering the presidential campaign. I watched Trump get elected and then traveled to London and Stockholm. On New Year’s Eve, in Iceland, I snapped a photo of my son in front of a massive Reykjavik bonfire. He beamed in front of the flames.

Los Angeles received just a trace of rain in all that time.

IT’S EASY to shorthand Los Angeles as a dream factory, a place populated solely by movie stars, award shows, influencers, and surfers. It has become so prevalent that writers declaring “The Death of the California Dream” has become its own ecosystem. (I have a folder on an old laptop, collecting the best of the genre.)

What is forgotten is that there are 10 million people trying to live that dream. And it might not be the dream you suspect. An Armenian couple scraping together money for a bungalow in Glendale. A mom raising a son alone in Westwood after the suicide of his father. An East L.A. family afraid of ICE moving in the shadows near MacArthur Park. These are not the type of dreams optioned by producers like Scott Rudin, but they are dreams all the same.

The people I talked to after January’s wildfires had dreams. In 24 hours, they ignited, flashed, and then vanished into the toxic darkness.

New dreams can be conjured, but first the nightmares have to fade.

IT WAS AROUND 4 P.M. WHEN EVERYTHING WENT TO HELL.

AROUND 10:30 A.M., Hertz heard on his police scanner that smoke had been spotted in the Pacific Palisades, a nearby Los Angeles neighborhood.

The Palisades looked down on the Pacific Ocean from posh homes, a few that Hertz had designed. The smoke was quickly replaced by fire, and it spread rapidly, metastasizing from five to 50 acres in minutes. Hertz called his men, and they agreed to meet at Zuma Beach, about a 25-minute drive from Xanabu. They were not firefighters in the traditional sense — they had no big engines, just individual pickup trucks tricked out with hoses and water tanks. Eventually, the brigade commanders decided to send Hertz and his three-man crew 12 miles south to Duke’s restaurant, which firefighters were using as a staging area. They were then told to cruise through the nearby Las Flores and Big Rock neighborhoods above the Pacific Coast Highway and spread the news that the Palisades Fire was growing with frightening speed.

They found a surreal scene. Their radio crackled with news that the fire was heading their way like a caged beast unleashed, but they saw retirees riding bikes and moms pushing kids in strollers. The consensus was that the fire was still 10 miles away; they’d wait and see what happened.

It was around 4 p.m. when everything went to hell. There was a black swirl of smoke as Hertz hit the PCH, reducing visibility to near zero. Hertz had to tailgate the vehicle in front of him the three miles to the beach. They pulled into the Topanga Beach parking lot. That’s when they spotted a vast pyro cumulus cloud spinning down the cliffs behind the Getty Villa. Private firefighters and staff protected the museum, but the fire tornado devoured everything else. Hertz and his firefighters started banging on the door of an RV parked on the PCH. The confused driver cracked the door. Hertz screamed at him.

“You’ve got to move!”

Above, a Sikorsky helicopter tried to make a water drop on the raging flames, but it was no use. Winds whipped at more than 60 mph, and the fire tornado, estimated to be between 50 and 100 feet wide, started shifting toward the Reel Inn, across the street from Topanga. Hertz and his men moved behind the restaurant, trying to wet the ground and tearing down a fence that would just provide more fuel to the fire. A few moments later, one of the Reel Inn’s windows blew out and the checkerboard tablecloths ignited. There were no hydrants nearby, so the brigade was left pumping out water from their meager supply. Hertz felt his face flush as the heat moved toward them. He spotted the fire advancing toward a propane tank and ordered his crew to retreat. They jumped into their truck and headed to a parking lot a quarter-mile away from the fire and, crucially, on the other side of the PCH. From there, they watched the Reel Inn explode and disintegrate. It had all taken less than 30 minutes.

The radio barked out that the fire was now sweeping through the Palisades. The brigade dispatch reported that the flames were threatening the home of one of its members, Tyler Hauptman. Hertz consulted with his men and made a decision: They would try and save all of the houses on Hauptman’s block. He pointed the truck through the flames, and down the PCH.

Volunteer firefighter Hertz battles the Pacific Palisades fire. Clay Bush/Impulsephoto

He took a left onto Temescal Canyon Road and headed up the labyrinth of streets that makes the area hard to navigate for newcomers. It wasn’t quite sunset, but the sky was black, interrupted only by a blizzard of white, thousands of burning embers being swept through the streets. Hauptman’s house sat at the top of a ridge, a sharp undeveloped drop nearby, with the village and Palisades Charter High in front of it. By the time the brigade arrived, the school was ablaze and reports came in that flames were devouring an area called the Alphabet Streets.

They climbed to the roofs in Hauptman’s neighborhood and looked out at a world that was ceasing to exist. The Los Angeles Department of Water and Power had not turned off the power, and electric poles burst and shot sparks into the night. A member of the crew swore and stated what was now obvious. “Fuck. Holy fuck. This has gotta be the worst fire in L.A. history.”

The brigade went to work. They hooked up their hoses to a hydrant and set up mobile pumps to draw water out of swimming pools. Only a few minutes later, Hertz had a horrifying realization: The fire was now moving up the hill behind the home. There was no fire department presence except for a lone emergency vehicle.

“Can you help?” asked Hertz.

But the petrified driver was just looking for a way out of the Palisades. This seemed prudent. By 6 p.m., an hour after their arrival, Hertz and his small crew were surrounded on all sides by flames.

“Hey, over there.”

A car was on fire. They put it out.

“Behind the house!”

A crew member moved in and beat the flames back.

Around 6:30 p.m., the men heard what sounded like a machine gun firing up the street. It was a neighbor’s ammo stash catching fire.

Water pressure was dropping, but it didn’t really matter. “All the water pressure in the world can’t save this,” said Hertz, pulling off his mask to wipe a dark line of sweat.

At that point, all of the houses except Hauptman’s and a few nearby homes were on fire, multimillion-dollar properties crackling like twigs in a summer campfire.

Around 7:30 p.m., Hertz realized the wind, smoke, and flames had left him disoriented. For a minute, he didn’t know exactly where he was. It was a horrifying and frightening feeling. He wondered if he’d have to pull out his fire shelter, a supposedly flame-resistant pup tent that firefighters climb into when a fire overruns them. He reoriented himself and told his men that it was time to get the hell out. His truck was low on fuel, and water pressure was anemic. Besides, the wind had shifted. Miraculously, Hauptman’s house was out of danger. The men packed up and drove back down to the PCH. He dropped off his men at Duke’s and arrived home after 1 a.m. His hair and face were filthy with dirt and smoke. He gave his worried wife a hug.

“We saved Tyler’s house,” Hertz told her. “I guess that’s something.”

He then passed out on the couch.

But he was wrong. The winds changed again. The Palisades ran out of water. He woke up at dawn. That’s when he learned Tyler Hauptman’s house had burned to the ground.

“FUCK. HOLY FUCK. THIS HAS GOTTA BE THE WORST FIRE IN L.A. HISTORY.”

MOLLY TIERNEY HEADED back to Altadena from the McCarthy studio in nearby Lincoln Heights in the early afternoon on the day of the fire. She was worried; news of the Palisades blaze was everywhere, and the wind was whipping up in a way she had never seen before in her neighborhood.

She texted John Joyce, who fought the wind as he made the five-minute walk to her house. He urged her to head to LAX. Reluctantly, Tierney agreed and got in her car. She didn’t get far — a text from a friend told her a fire had been reported in Eaton Canyon, four miles from her place. She drove home and loaded up her car, just in case, with the deed to her house, her passport, and all of the hard drives holding her photographs. At the last second, she headed back in for a beautiful pail with a naked woman on the side that was a paintbrush holder her grandmother had made for her grandfather.

It was now 7 p.m., and she left for the airport. Usually, Tierney wouldn’t mind being a little late, but tonight it was different: She had never met the man before. Two hours later, they hugged in the arrivals terminal at LAX. Then Tierney told her new friend something important.

“I’m not sure I have a house anymore.”

AROUND THE SAME TIME, Donald Kincey arrived at his sister’s place on Poppyfield Drive, a little more than a mile west of Tierney’s house. His family owned several homes in the neighborhood, and he was currently living in his sister’s house while she worked as a doctor in Bakersfield. He’d heard about the Palisades Fire and the high-wind warnings, but he was ready to ride out the situation. The simple two-level house with a black iron fence lining a small yard was close to open forest, but the neighborhood had survived before — there had been only one previous evacuation order. “I’m 11 blocks from the mountains,” Kincey told worried friends. “The whole neighborhood would have to burn up before my house got hit.”

Kincey spent the next few hours shuttling between his sister’s and his parents’ home on Alta Pine Drive, a five-minute drive away. (His parents spent several days a week in Bakersfield helping take care of his niece.) He brought in furniture and secured doors and windows. By midnight, he was exhausted. He texted his sister that everything was OK but she would have to buy some new shingles.

Kincey watered the yard and driveway outside his sister’s home. He then took a shower and got ready for bed. The fire still seemed distant, and he had to be at school in eight hours. But something made him set an alarm that would go off every 15 minutes. He woke up around 1:30, and the night glow had changed to a more-intense bright red.

It’s still coming, thought Kincey.

For a moment, Kincey considered getting some of his artwork out of the garage behind the house. He’d been working on a giant acrylic work of Kobe Bryant being swarmed by Boston Celtics defenders. But then there was a crackle that sounded like gunfire. A palm tree above the house had caught an ember. It burned quickly, shooting out flames that looked like tracer fire. A nearby house caught fire. Kincey picked up a garden hose and started wetting his sister’s property again. The torrent of water quickly became a trickle and then nothing. He ran into the house and turned on a faucet. It was dry. Altadena had run out of water. Now was the time to get his art. He headed down a narrow path on the side of the house and toward his garage studio. The wind knocked him down, and the heat stopped him after a few steps. It was too late.

Kincey jumped into his truck. He headed to his parents’ house and grabbed some of his father’s artwork. Suddenly, he felt a burning feeling: His hair had been scorched by an ember chunk. He put it out, got into his truck, and raced out of Altadena toward Pasadena. He didn’t stop until he hit the Rose Bowl parking lot, where he parked his truck next to other refugees. A few hours later, the sun tried to rise through a haze of fire and smoke. That’s when Kincey learned that both his sister’s and his parents’ homes were gone. More and more reports filtered in: Friends and relatives had lost their homes too.

And that’s when Kincey realized his whole life — his history, his past, his future — no longer existed.

MULTIMILLION-DOLLAR PROPERTIES CRACKLED LIKE TWIGS IN A SUMMER CAMPFIRE.

JOYCE DIDN’T LIE to Tierney. He thought everything was going to be fine. But he didn’t know all of the facts. The Eaton Canyon Fire started at 6:15 p.m., when sparks were seen in the hills about three miles from Joyce’s location. A resident tried to put out the small flame and then watched it spread exponentially. In just minutes, embers were spotted a mile away from the initial spark. At 7:15 p.m., an attack helicopter with thousands of gallons of water was turned back by winds now gusting well over 80 mph.

Embers could now be seen on Santa Anita Avenue. The town was lit by an apocalyptic orange tinted by the red lights of fire engines mobilizing throughout the hills. Around 8 p.m., Chris Pack, a resident responsible for a gorgeous vegetable garden on the 2656 property, started banging on the cottages and converted garages, telling the occupants it was time to go. Susannah Mills, a painter and end-of-life doula, had left her place an hour earlier and taken her cat to her boyfriend’s house in Silver Lake. She then returned to 2656 to grab some belongings and keepsakes. The wind nearly ripped the door off her car. She fled back down Santa Anita Avenue dodging downed trees and residents fleeing on foot. Terrified, she spied an old man trudging slowly away from the fire, a suitcase rolling behind him.

As Jan. 7 became the 8th, Joyce shuttled between the two houses. He wanted to save it all — his friend Jeff Ricks’ properties, but more important, the community where he had spent the happiest days of his life. The 2656 house had a loft tower with giant glass windows that blew out in the early morning hours. Quixotically, the 77-year-old returned to his workshop at the other house, cut a giant piece of plywood, and struggled to carry it the 400 feet from 466 to 2656 in winds now gusting over 80 mph. Breathing through a respirator, Joyce sweated and groaned as he lugged the plywood up the stairs. He quickly realized the wind was too fierce; there was no way he could nail it over the opening.

Then, he got an idea. There was a thick old fire hose in the loft that Joyce had installed for Ricks. Its purpose was not to put out flames, but to provide a device that his buddy could rappel down — superhero style — in case of a house fire. Joyce returned the hose to its designed purpose. He hooked it up to the sink and ran it out the window. It worked. He began watering the grounds and returning back to 2656 where he did the same with some garden hoses.

Joyce ran between the properties for another two hours. Then, in the Bible-black predawn, he climbed back up into the loft and looked out at the fire on the hill. Something was different. The fire was now moving like a prowling carnivore, feinting down one street a few blocks away and then changing its mind and slithering down a different avenue. A friend who was monitoring an L.A. fire app called him. She told him houses were ablaze just a few streets away. Joyce looked down at the gravel in the driveway. It was simultaneously blackening and smoldering.

Everything he loved was burning away. He called Ricks and told him that it didn’t look good. Ricks reminded him of a favorite anecdote. Years ago, Ricks, a relentless consumer and eccentric investor, had bought the entire contents of a Vegas porn shop thinking it might have vintage material worth something. For years, Molly Tierney had busted Ricks’ balls about the investment, telling him that among all of his worldly goods his collection of worthless porn was clearly his dearest possession. Joyce always laughed and egged her on. Now, as the world melted, Ricks told him to get the hell out of there.

“It’s all replaceable, except for my porn.”

Joyce laughed through his respirator. He gave himself two minutes to pack up his truck. He grabbed a white shirt and a tie for Susie’s funeral the following week. But in the darkness, he grabbed the wrong box — he didn’t have his tie.

The truck was nearly loaded when he saw it: a river of embers flowing down Santa Anita Avenue right toward him. A house up the avenue exploded. He looked up, and the palm trees above 466 were spinning with flames, fiery pinwheels spitting sparks at him. He closed the truck’s door, did a U-turn, and sped away.

Three blocks down the road, he slammed on the brakes. Joyce had forgotten something: his teeth. He turned around and charged back up the hill. But in the two or three minutes since his initial departure, the fiery holocaust had somehow become even more deadly. Cars everywhere were ablaze, and a dome of embers arced above the avenue like festival lights strung above streets in Little Italy. For the first time, Joyce was filled with fear and dread: He was lost on a street he had lived on for nearly three decades. He thought for a moment that this is how it ends. But then the wind blew the flames clear. He could see smoke shooting out of Ricks’ loft. Reoriented, Joyce realized he was going the wrong way.

Forgetting about the teeth, he dodged flaming wreckage for a half mile until he hit Woodberry Avenue. There, he saw the terminally-ill patients at the hospice where he visited Susie just a few weeks ago being evacuated. A pile of abandoned stretchers and wheelchairs lined the ground. Joyce pointed his truck south, uncertain where to go. Eventually, he jumped on CA 210 East and drove until the smoke cleared. He then pulled over, tore off his respirator and gulped in the first breaths of fresh air since the fire had started 12 hours earlier.

For a moment, Joyce thought he had failed. He had not been able to protect Ricks’ homes or the countless pieces of art created by his friends. He had told Tierney everything was going to be fine, and that turned out to be untrue. But then he had a moment of clarity. Everything was gone, but as far as he could tell, everyone he loved was still alive.

And that was something.

DONALD KINCEY’S PASTOR was persistent. She wanted him to speak to her flock at Sunday services, five days after the fire. Kincey is a quiet and thoughtful man, not prone to self-promotion, and at first told her no. But then at the service, an 88-year-old woman named Fay spoke to the congregation. She had lost everything, but one thing remained: her faith in God. After that, Kincey felt obligated to say something.

He spoke of the rich history of artists and athletes in the Altadena Black community. There were no tears until he began talking about himself and his family. His mother’s roots were deep in Altadena, but his father had been raised in Compton in the time of the Black Panthers and the Civil Rights Movement. Kincey said he had always wished he had more of that kind of courage for himself. Now he did.

“My pride died in the fire, so did my fear,” he said through tears. “Now, anything that comes my way, I’m going to say, ‘Why not?’”

John Joyce had lived on this street since 1998, managing a group of cottages. John Joyce

I FIRST DROVE UP to 2656 with Chris Pack, the house’s constant gardener. Jeff Ricks’ cars were mostly melted metal, with an old roadster looking like its own art project, jagged melted plastic resembling lightning bolts hung to the trunk. Pack’s cottage was nothing but ashes. He openly wept until he noticed something in the pile. They were intact pieces of his grandmother’s nativity scene: the shepherds, Mary, and the baby Jesus. Later on, we came across a haggard old man. He wore a hazmat suit but had only a surgical mask protecting his lungs. He was furiously digging up piles of debris at what used to be the home’s front door. It was John Joyce.

“I can’t talk now,” shouted Joyce with a gasp. He was looking for a fire-resistant box that held the home’s deed and rent payments of some of the residents. “I have to find it — it has the deed, everything.”

I returned the next day with Susannah Mills, the artist whose car doors were nearly torn from their hinges at the height of the fire’s rage. She had a better mask and other gear for Joyce. He wasn’t on the property, so she sifted through her own belongings; art books seemingly intact floated away in a cloud of ash when opened. We drove with her boyfriend a few blocks to the Altadena Community Church where she worked. The church had been a haven for the displaced and forgotten in L.A., whether they be transgender or immigrants. But there wasn’t much left. A sign reading “Sanctuary” hung on a surviving pillar, but now pointed to nowhere. The office where she worked no longer existed. A chain-link fence remained with a gate holding a sign that read, “Please don’t slam the gate. Close gently.” Mills picked it up. “I put that sign up there. It doesn’t need to be there anymore.” I could hear her sobbing through her mask.

I circled back to the properties and caught a startling sight. At the front of the 2656 house, Molly Tierney stood and tried to get Joyce’s attention. He was still digging for something. Tierney shouted his name.

“John!”

Joyce finally pivoted. Tierney promptly dropped her pants and mooned him. Joyce stopped digging for a second and stood perfectly still. Then, he mooned her back.

And the guy Tierney picked up at the airport? Tierney gave me a shy, devilish smile and said, “He has been such a comfort.”

Molly Tierney squatted on this property for a decade before it was officially hers. Courtesy of Molly Tierney

I spent hours over the next two weeks talking to Joyce, first over coffee as wind still whipped through Altadena, raising fears of further terror, and then on a series of FaceTime calls once I returned home. He sent me a stream of photos of his finds, some great — Ricks’ lockbox was intact — and some grisly: the burned skull of a friend’s cat.

I realized our talks were a salve for him, replacing his morning coffees with his artists who had scattered for shelter. He told me of his life before Altadena. He told me tales of boxing in an off-the-book match in New Jersey and tending bar at the White Horse Tavern in Manhattan. There were adventures, but also mental health struggles and loneliness that lasted until he moved to L.A. in middle age. The artists at 466 and 2656 had given him a home where he could talk about surrealism and play an exquisite corpse. He wasn’t seen as a drifter weirdo, but embraced as a friend and a brother. He smiled as he remembered the conversation with the writer the morning of the fire.

“I guess I caught more of that Marxist destruction than I thought,” joked Joyce. Eventually, we talked about why he worked so hard to save the homes.

“It was all hubris,” said Joyce. He paused for a long time.

“I think the places gave me so much love and happiness I just didn’t want to see it all go away. But everything goes away, people go away, art goes away.” He pointed out toward a couple of his friends going through the ash, looking for a talisman that helped propel them forward. “But I still have them, and they still have me.”

There’s talk of rebuilding their community and fiercely defending their Altadena. (The surviving boba-tea shop and halal market down the road already had “Don’t Sell Out Altadena” signs to warn off real-estate investors.)

Some priorities have changed. For years, Joyce had dreamed of taking his Triumph out on the highway to visit friends in Las Vegas and New Mexico before they died or he got too infirm for the ride. But the Triumph was now just another pile of twisted metal. He had a new bike in mind. He showed me a photograph of a different motorcycle, one his gearhead friends were prepping for him. “It’s a real off-road bike. It can tow things and ride over logs and stumps. It’s got a real Steve McQueen thing going on.”

He smiled.

“It’s going to be great for rebuilding. I’m on a new journey now.”

THE TOWN WAS LIT BY AN APOCALYPTIC ORANGE TINTED BY THE RED LIGHTS OF FIRE ENGINES.

I SPENT TWO DAYS with David Hertz. First, we retraced his day in the fire in his brigade truck. We drove up the PCH in Malibu and tried to maintain our bearings with so many hotels, houses, and bars gone away. Always the architect, Hertz talked about Malibu’s future as he drove us through checkpoints.

He pointed at the burned remnants of houses on the ocean side. “How do you rebuild there? The beach behind it was completely worn away. Where are you going to put a septic tank?” He pointed down to the horizon toward a faraway beach. “That’s Point Dume. Unless you owned one of these homes, you could never see it from here before.”

At my request, we pulled into the Reel Inn parking lot. All that remained was black wood and the restaurant’s neon sign. For years, the sign’s lights had told me it was time to slow down and find a parking space. Now, it was dark. I took some photos of the charred remains of one of my favorite places in the world, while Hertz thought back on the flames. There had been harsh criticisms of L.A.’s response to the fires. The mayor was out of the country. A Palisades reservoir was empty due to delayed repairs. It would not have mattered, according to Hertz.

“This is where I knew this wasn’t like any other fire,” he said. “It just moved so fast. You could have had 5,000 firemen and endless water and you could not have stopped it.”

We drove into the Palisades, and Hertz showed me the lots where houses that he built no longer existed. Burned-out cars with X’s on them, meaning cadaver-sniffing dogs had checked them. He looked for the house of his son’s girlfriend. We had to circle the block twice, slowly creeping by at a crawl. It simply wasn’t there anymore. He called his son.

“Yeah, it’s all gone. I’ll try and get you up here soon for a look, but there’s nothing here.”

The following Saturday, the skies above Malibu were gray as I turned right off the PCH and ended up toward Xanabu. Hertz opened the gate and greeted me warmly, clad in Blundstones and black wind-resistant gear. He showed me around the property and all of its enchantments: the pagodas, the house made of the 747, and the gazebo with the views all the way to Santa Barbara.

In the end, the Palisades Fire didn’t reach Xanabu, ironically meeting a natural end when it hit the burn of the Franklin Fire — there was no more fuel to feed it.

“The Indigenous tribes did natural burns for centuries,” said Hertz. “It’s not the answer to everything climate change is causing, but it can help.”

We walked around for a bit, pausing to stare out at the endless vistas and the beautifully garish huts. Still, I could not help but think Xanabu was a fire trap despite Hertz installing sprinklers, capturing his own water, widening roads, and personally honing his own fire skills. Eventually, I worked up to asking the impolitic question: What the hell was he thinking driving into the mouth of the fire in a Ford truck with three part-time firefighters?

“Look, that wasn’t the plan,” said Hertz. “But that was the situation. People helped me when I was in danger, and I wanted to repay that.” He chuckled softly. “But, yeah, I do look back on it, and there are some things I learned. Keep an eye on your exit route.”

Regarding preserving Xanabu, he used one word repeatedly.

“It’s the definition of folly,” said Hertz. “I know it’s folly and one day it could all be gone, but I love it and I’m going to cherish it. If it’s not here, there will be other beautiful things in our lives.” He then repeated something he often tells his wife: “When you die, they don’t bury you with a U-Haul. Enjoy it all while you’re here.”

Hertz had to run; he was late for a ceremony honoring the brave work of the Malibu fire brigades. I shook his hand and then went for a drive. I stopped at El Matador Beach and thought of the waves I’d negotiated for years and the magic-hour beers consumed with a Navy-pilot buddy. I continued south and pulled into Point Dume, where my son put his feet in the sand for the first time. I made a trip up to Agoura Hills and pulled into the driveway of the old Paramount Ranch. It was all gone. I’d forgotten that Hertz told me it had burned to the ground during the Woolsey Fire.

I doubled back down the PCH, then I showed my credentials at a checkpoint and was allowed to stop in again at the Reel Inn. I looked out at the ocean and realized Hertz was right — views were now even more spectacular. And I thought the architect was right about something else: It was all folly. The restaurants. The beach shacks slipping into the sea. My memories.

But it was a beautiful folly. A few hours later, a light rain began to fall over Los Angeles.

VA Secretary Doug Collins released a video from his office today addressing misinformation circulating about Veterans’ benefits and VA health care. In a direct and candid message, Collins refuted several rumors he described as “whoppers.”

Collins began by reaffirming VA’s commitment to prioritizing Veterans.

“We’re putting Veterans number one back at the VA,” he said. He acknowledged that changes can generate friction, but emphasized that these reforms are aimed at strengthening VA services for Veterans.

Among the rumors he challenged was the claim that VA health care would suffer. Collins categorically denied this, stating that the department has reinforced health care and benefits by safeguarding 300,000 mission-critical positions to ensure uninterrupted services.

Another rumor he addressed was that Veterans’ benefits were being cut.

“They’re not,” he said, explaining that VA had redirected nearly $98 million toward Veterans’ care and services rather than reducing them.

Finally, Collins addressed the rumor that VA was laying off Veterans Crisis Line responders.

“We did not lay off any Veteran Crisis Line responders,” he stated firmly, assuring that those answering crisis calls remain in place to support Veterans in need.

Collins concluded by urging Veterans to seek information directly from VA rather than relying on misinformation circulating in political discourse. “When you want the truth, come to me, not the Whopper line up on Capitol Hill.”

Veterans are encouraged to visit news.va.gov or contact their local VA offices.