
Los Angeles
On Malibu’s famed Pacific Coast Highway, 38-year-old Kenya Johnson walked barefoot toward the setting sun glowing behind smoky, ochre clouds above the shimmering ocean. Her entire life’s belongings hung on her back: a Bible, one dress, a jacket for the cold night ahead, and a sleeping bag.
On January 7, Johnson evacuated her temporary tent when thick smoke from raging wildfires blanketed the beach where she had been living. Originally from San Francisco, she gathered her few possessions, packed them up, and walked toward Los Angeles. Two days later, she began her journey back.
Just a few miles down the highway, TV producer Peter Lenkov sifted through the ashes of his Malibu oceanfront home – a retreat he used to escape from his primary residence just 40 minutes away in Los Angeles. So far, he had found only two pairs of vintage sunglasses, melted beyond recognition. He was still searching for a watch gifted by his wife, hoping it had survived enough to be kept as a memento.
Everything Reduced to Ash
Southeast of Malibu, across charred and smoking wastelands, the Nguyen family stood in shock as they gazed at the remains of their 19-year-old home in Pacific Palisades. Twenty-year-old Sean Nguyen picked spoons and cutlery from the gray dust of their memories. “A lifetime of savings and hard work was reduced to ashes in just a few hours,” he said.
Los Angeles has long been a city of contrasts. Here, the ultra-wealthy live alongside unhoused residents who survive by scavenging from the garbage bins of the rich. Between these extremes are middle-class families who invested decades ago in small parcels of some of the world’s most coveted real estate.
This sprawling metropolis is home to 212,100 millionaires and 43 billionaires, according to a 2024 Henley & Partners report. Yet it also has one of the largest unhoused populations in the country, totaling around 75,000 people last year.
But wildfires do not discriminate based on wealth. Fueled by fierce winds, the fires raging over the past week have become the most destructive in the city’s history. As of Saturday, six separate fires burned across the region. Over 300,000 residents were under evacuation orders or warnings, and thousands of homes and structures had already been destroyed, with tens of thousands more under threat.
“Possessions Come and Go”
Chris Edwards, a 42-year-old originally from New Mexico, was guarding a friend’s encampment when he noticed the fires approaching. Living on Los Angeles’ streets, beaches, and canyons for nine years, Edwards rushed back to his makeshift shack of plywood and plastic, grabbed what he could, and fled with his girlfriend toward the beach.
Now left with only a solar panel and the clothes on his back, Edwards stood on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway two days later, his face smeared with soot, his hands blackened from searching through what little remained of his home.
“I’ve learned that life isn’t about stuff. It’s about the experience,” he said.
Kenya Johnson shared a similar perspective. Having spent the past few months in Malibu, she said she had long ago let go of material possessions. “I don’t cling to worldly things anymore,” she said. “I only need God, and He provides everything I need.”
Pacific Palisades: A Devastated Community
One of the worst-hit areas, Pacific Palisades, was once known for its picturesque Alphabet Streets. Now, it looks like the aftermath of a nuclear blast. Water pours endlessly down the streets from broken faucets and destroyed pipes, smoke rises from the ruins, and orange flames shoot out of damaged gas lines.
Jack Nguyen, whose home in the neighborhood was reduced to rubble, stood in the debris where his children once played. “You realize that your financial security has been destroyed,” he said. “But then you also think about others who are in an even worse situation. It’s about balancing the loss of your life plans with the gratitude that you’re still better off than most.”
These fires have left a powerful lesson in their wake for everyone affected – rich or poor: possessions may burn, but life must go on.