Beyond climate change: The real reasons California burns
My heart began racing as I watched my college housemate keep the faucet on while washing dishes in our shared sink. Even though I was newly moved to Michigan from drought-stricken Los Angeles, old habits die hard. Turn off the water between washing dishes. Keep your showers short. Turn on the sprinklers long enough to avoid a fine from the HOA but short enough to evade a fine for breaching the monthly water quota.One thing all Angelenos have in common: They know how precious water is.While bailouts may relieve pressure on politicians, your votes and voices can hold them accountable.The drought that plagued California between 2012 and 2016 is considered the most severe in the state’s history. Thirteen of the 30 driest months on record occurred during this period, and Southern California’s dry desert climate bore the brunt of it.I was in high school when the effects of the drought became palpable. The Santa Monica Mountains took on hues of dark brown and black, hot dirt blew up from the ground during the summertime, and every footstep on “grass” was accompanied by a distinctive crunch. Our rainy winters disappeared and melded with the hot summers, a dangerous combination with Santa Ana winds that are an annual event in Los Angeles, marking the transition from summer to fall.These heavy winds that were, at most, an annoyance in my childhood turned deadly during the drought.I remember the sensation of my eyes burning suddenly while studying in my high school library at the end of my junior year. The entire room was filled with smoke, the red sun burned through the orange sky, and ash was falling and collecting on the ground like snow. Just a few miles away, a passing car on the 101 freeway had accidentally ignited a piece of brush, and the flames rapidly spread over the tinderbox of underbrush covering the mountains that defined the landscape of my hometown, the Conejo Valley. The Santa Ana winds spread that small spark in 2013 into a fury called the Springs Fire, which burned over 24,238 acres in a just day and a half.Five years later, my family was awakened by an evacuation notice after something as innocuous as a spark between two electrical wires in the Santa Monica Mountains erupted into the 2018 Woolsey Fire. That small spark turned into the worst wildfire in California’s history — up to now — burning through an astounding 96,949 acres of Malibu canyon’s stunning landscape, consuming more than 1,600 structures, and resulting in the third-highest insured loss in California history — $5.5 billion in total losses.The fires ravaging Los Angeles County eclipse the Woolsey and Spring Fires combined, on track to become what the Los Angeles Times predicts to be “the costliest wildfire disaster in American history.”Over 12,000 structures have been destroyed, and at least 24 people are dead. The row of quirky multimillion-dollar beach houses lining the Pacific Coast Highway are piles of rubble. Altadena, a diverse Los Angeles suburb dating back to the 1880s nestled into the foot of the majestic San Gabriel Mountains, has been almost completely destroyed. My adopted sister’s birth parents, who have called Altadena their home for decades now, have no place to return to, joining the tens of thousands of Angelenos who woke up last week to the same fate.Growing up in Los Angeles, you are told that wildfires are just “a fact of life.” Dirty climate deniers contribute to climate change. Climate change causes hot summers, no rain, and extreme wind. Therefore, devastating wildfires are inevitable. Cracks in this narrative have become more evident, and beneath its veneer is the disgraceful reality of decades-long mismanagement — and corruption — from those governing the Golden State.The drought was broken by two of the wettest back-to-back rain seasons Los Angeles had ever experienced between 2022 and 2024. Yet most of this precious rainwater has run into the ocean. Why? California hasn’t built a single reservoir since 1979, and environmentalist groups prevent any effort to update the state’s water infrastructure.When failed policy turns deadly, the federal government steps in to bail out Sacramento and insurance companies, removing any incentive to enact common-sense wildfire prevention. Gov. Gavin Newsom (D) can continue kissing the environmentalists’ ring while insurance companies abandon homeowners. The only real losers are the family of four who watched their house burn down on live TV.I don’t live in California any more. Its poor leadership is one of the main reasons why I left my beloved state four years ago. Watching the fires unfold from afar — seeing images of places that hold childhood memories burn to the ground — has been emotional, but it’s a sliver compared to what people are feeling who lost every material possession in a matter of hours.This cycle of catastrophic wildfires will persist until Californians demand better from their government. While bailouts may relieve pressure on politicians, your votes and v
My heart began racing as I watched my college housemate keep the faucet on while washing dishes in our shared sink. Even though I was newly moved to Michigan from drought-stricken Los Angeles, old habits die hard. Turn off the water between washing dishes. Keep your showers short. Turn on the sprinklers long enough to avoid a fine from the HOA but short enough to evade a fine for breaching the monthly water quota.
One thing all Angelenos have in common: They know how precious water is.
While bailouts may relieve pressure on politicians, your votes and voices can hold them accountable.
The drought that plagued California between 2012 and 2016 is considered the most severe in the state’s history. Thirteen of the 30 driest months on record occurred during this period, and Southern California’s dry desert climate bore the brunt of it.
I was in high school when the effects of the drought became palpable. The Santa Monica Mountains took on hues of dark brown and black, hot dirt blew up from the ground during the summertime, and every footstep on “grass” was accompanied by a distinctive crunch. Our rainy winters disappeared and melded with the hot summers, a dangerous combination with Santa Ana winds that are an annual event in Los Angeles, marking the transition from summer to fall.
These heavy winds that were, at most, an annoyance in my childhood turned deadly during the drought.
I remember the sensation of my eyes burning suddenly while studying in my high school library at the end of my junior year. The entire room was filled with smoke, the red sun burned through the orange sky, and ash was falling and collecting on the ground like snow. Just a few miles away, a passing car on the 101 freeway had accidentally ignited a piece of brush, and the flames rapidly spread over the tinderbox of underbrush covering the mountains that defined the landscape of my hometown, the Conejo Valley. The Santa Ana winds spread that small spark in 2013 into a fury called the Springs Fire, which burned over 24,238 acres in a just day and a half.
Five years later, my family was awakened by an evacuation notice after something as innocuous as a spark between two electrical wires in the Santa Monica Mountains erupted into the 2018 Woolsey Fire. That small spark turned into the worst wildfire in California’s history — up to now — burning through an astounding 96,949 acres of Malibu canyon’s stunning landscape, consuming more than 1,600 structures, and resulting in the third-highest insured loss in California history — $5.5 billion in total losses.
The fires ravaging Los Angeles County eclipse the Woolsey and Spring Fires combined, on track to become what the Los Angeles Times predicts to be “the costliest wildfire disaster in American history.”
Over 12,000 structures have been destroyed, and at least 24 people are dead. The row of quirky multimillion-dollar beach houses lining the Pacific Coast Highway are piles of rubble. Altadena, a diverse Los Angeles suburb dating back to the 1880s nestled into the foot of the majestic San Gabriel Mountains, has been almost completely destroyed. My adopted sister’s birth parents, who have called Altadena their home for decades now, have no place to return to, joining the tens of thousands of Angelenos who woke up last week to the same fate.
Growing up in Los Angeles, you are told that wildfires are just “a fact of life.” Dirty climate deniers contribute to climate change. Climate change causes hot summers, no rain, and extreme wind. Therefore, devastating wildfires are inevitable. Cracks in this narrative have become more evident, and beneath its veneer is the disgraceful reality of decades-long mismanagement — and corruption — from those governing the Golden State.
The drought was broken by two of the wettest back-to-back rain seasons Los Angeles had ever experienced between 2022 and 2024. Yet most of this precious rainwater has run into the ocean. Why? California hasn’t built a single reservoir since 1979, and environmentalist groups prevent any effort to update the state’s water infrastructure.
When failed policy turns deadly, the federal government steps in to bail out Sacramento and insurance companies, removing any incentive to enact common-sense wildfire prevention. Gov. Gavin Newsom (D) can continue kissing the environmentalists’ ring while insurance companies abandon homeowners. The only real losers are the family of four who watched their house burn down on live TV.
I don’t live in California any more. Its poor leadership is one of the main reasons why I left my beloved state four years ago. Watching the fires unfold from afar — seeing images of places that hold childhood memories burn to the ground — has been emotional, but it’s a sliver compared to what people are feeling who lost every material possession in a matter of hours.
This cycle of catastrophic wildfires will persist until Californians demand better from their government. While bailouts may relieve pressure on politicians, your votes and voices can hold them accountable. It’s in your hands, California. You deserve better — so demand it from your leaders, or vote them out.
Originally Published at Daily Wire, World Net Daily, or The Blaze
What's Your Reaction?
