If you know Malibu, you know the Crab Shack, that barn-red, century-old little house that hugs the hillside a few miles south of the pier.
If you know the Crab Shack, you almost certainly know its owner, Randall Mead – better known as Randy or Crawdaddy or simply Craw.
“The whole community knew Craw,” said his friend Todd Proctor. “I don't care if you drove a Bentley or went to the beach. You knew Craw, you loved Craw.
There was always a party at the Crab Shack. Meowth was Party, her friends and family said this week, was a generous, fun-loving free spirit who brought people together and brought out their best.
“Mining the gold in each person, then making them see that gold and act from the best version of themselves — Kraw is like a magician that does that with people,” Proctor said.
In this undated photo, Randall Miott stands in front of his home, known as the Crab Shack, which burned in the Palisades fire.
(Courtesy of Todd Proctor)
Miott died at his home as the Palisades Fire spread in Malibu, said his mother, Carol A. Banning. Smith said. He is 55 years old.
News of Mayod's death sent ripples of grief through a wide network of friends, neighbors and acquaintances, who shared a stroll with Kraw or bumped into his bed or stayed up late laughing and talking to a man who “made you feel like your best self. “said his friend Michael Caesar-German.
“He had the ability to bring people together,” Caesar-German said. “He saw beauty in things that others did not. He's a salt-of-the-earth guy.”
Miod (pronounced “my-odd”) was born in Los Angeles and grew up in the San Fernando Valley, Smith said. He discovered skateboarding and surfing in junior high and was soon skipping school for waves so his mother hid his board.
In the mid-1980s, Proctor, 12, was surfing Malibu's second point when Miott paddled out and introduced himself. That was the beginning of a decades-long friendship.
“He would take an interest in people, what they were up to, building them up, encouraging them and what they were doing,” Proctor recalled. “He was like this big brother who always made you feel like you were moving in the right direction.”
Miott moved to Malibu a few years after high school and found a cabin among the glitzy condos along the Pacific Coast Highway.
Congenital bony deposits curved his arms inward like a crustacean, earning him the nickname Crawdaddy. The house soon had its own nickname: the crab shack.
The landlord then moved away, leaving Meode in charge of the property. When he decided to sell about 15 years ago, Proctor said, friends helped Miod buy it.
“The door was always open, surfers, people from different countries, surfers, he felt a sense of warmth for people passing through,” recalls Proctor.
There were parties. There was music. The walls were lined with Miod's photographs and abstract paintings. In the corner was a band setup where Miott, a drummer and others would jam. An aluminum ladder leads to the roof overlooking the ocean. There was always a big secondhand sofa and whenever it wore out someone would drag out a new couch.
Miott never married. He had no children and worked at local restaurants to pay the bills. He was the heart of a different family, made up of people who loved Malibu and surfing and everything that went with it.
“He became a legend in Malibu,” his mother said. “Randy, being The Crow, I don't think he ever realized how much everyone loves and respects him.”
He knew how dangerous that coastal life was. He lived through fires, earthquakes and mudslides. As recently as February, a boulder tumbled down the hillside, missing his house by inches.
“I'm chilling, watching TV, and then I hear – kaboom!” A confusing meow KCAL said.
As the Palisades fire was extinguished on Jan. 7, Meott called his mother around 3 p.m. to report smelling smoke. He said he had a pipe and was going to fight his way home.
“His last words to me that day were, 'Pray for the Palisades, pray for Malibu. I love you,'” she said.
After that he stopped responding to texts. On the morning of January 9, Smith received a call from a friend of Mayod's that human remains had been found in the charred ruins of the crab shack. If all his roommates count, it can only be Mioda.
The Palisades Fire destroyed or damaged hundreds of homes in Malibu. Among the first things to rise from the ashes is the legend of Craw.
Tributes painted on beach walls: “Rest Easy Crabdaddy,” “Crab Shack Forever.” When it is safe to do so, his friends plan a memorial. One last meeting with Krau at its center.
When she learned of her friend's death, Caesar-German climbed up to the rafters of her West Hills home. She took out a box of memorabilia and began searching through letters and photographs that represented decades of friendship.
A small card she didn't recognize was stuck down. That's a Chatsworth High School student ID. She doesn't belong, Miodin. The Gravin. It felt like a sign.
“I know he's looking down right now,” she said. “Hold your people close now. Tell the people you love — now. Don't wait until you can't. No one is guaranteed another moment.