If you buy into the stereotypes and myths, the climate in Southern California is wonderful and the people laid back.
Lies.
Conditions are harsh, crazy winds and twisty terrain cook up one disaster after another, and anyone not on edge is in denial, unconscious or renter.
Until January 7, when Fires began to destroy thousands of buildingss and claim at least 28 lives, my biggest fear about living in California is earthquakes, thanks to a 2017 trip to the San Andreas fault with Dr. Lucy Jones.
I tagged While Jones tried to convince two buses of Southern California public officials that the big one was coming, they were required to update building codes and take other steps in anticipation of a historic disaster.
If a 7.8 hit, Jones and other seismologists said that day near Palm Springs, the ground would shift beneath us, and within 10 seconds people standing face-to-face on opposite sides of the fault would be 30 feet apart. As far as Los Angeles, buildings collapseLives will be lost, economies will be rocked, and millions of people will lose power and water for months.
I went home and hired a seismic safety engineer to strengthen my house, and I've had earthquake insurance ever since. None of them will give you complete peace of mind.
After the 1994 Northridge earthquake, the intersection of the 5 and 14 freeways remains only rubble.
(Los Angeles Times)
Last week, I purchased a motorized pump with a 50 foot hose so I can use the pool water to protect my home in the event of a fire. I did that after meeting a policeman in Altadena who took me into his backyard and showed me his pump that he used to protect his own house and his neighbors as the embers fell.
It took me three hours to force the hose onto the hose pump nozzle, but I couldn't attach it securely. I have visions of the motor flaming into approach and when it finally catches, the hose flies off the pump and the gas tank explodes, taking out the entire block. Do I feel safe? Less secure?
To sleep well in Los Angeles, you can't think about these things. You have to push aside the reality of the danger.
That is the real threat.
Human nature is, ultimately, our Achilles heel.
I'm talking about denial, a comfortable balm in the life lab of natural disaster. I'm talking about a lack of preparation and planning, whether it's having an earthquake kit at the ready or settling in the brush.
California is not alone in this regard. Coastal Florida, for example, has been repeatedly devastated by hurricanes and can't wait to rebuild each time, as close to the water as before. As a nation, we underestimate the role each of us plays in the nexus between climate change and disaster, while broadcasting our national leader's call to “drill, baby, drill.”

Homes burned by the Palisade Fire in Malibu on Jan. 9 are seen from above in this aerial view taken from a helicopter.
(Josh Edelson/AFP via Getty Images)
Jones and I were talking about this complex relationship between risk and the human psyche, and he has studied for years, “all the research in psychology and behavioral economics—about how people make decisions about risk.”
More often than not, they decide not to.
Of all the cities that sent ambassadors on a tour of the San Andreas fault in 2017, many still haven't acted on necessary seismic safety improvements. Jones estimated that Los Angeles County residents have about $6 million in reasonable defenses, while about $4 million do not.
Jones did not limit his public education campaigns to earthquakes. In 2023, the Dr Lucy Jones Center for Science and Society Created a guide called “From Recovery to Resilience: Facing the Challenge of Increasing Wildfires in California.”
In it, he studied the dynamics of the Camp Fire in Paradise, the Dixie Fire in Greenville, the Bear Fire in Butte County, and the Woolsey Fire in Ventura. The lessons are that communities must act like communities before disasters strike, consider the needs of the most vulnerable residents, and put the right people in charge.
“Emergency management is not the only answer,” Jones concluded in the statement. “It's developing resilience before, responding efficiently, and recovering quickly after a disaster.”
Despite the great work of many firefighters and others, we've already learned over the past two weeks that we need improvements in each of those areas.
Jones uses the letters Wu as an acronym for the wildland urban interface, which covers thousands of acres of Los Angeles, including the Palisades and the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains. Building in WUI locations can be safe if done right, Jones said, but “shouldn't happen without really thoughtful discussions … because our fire risk is increased.”
Yes, the stakes are high after months of drought, and that volcano seems to be exploding by the hour.
The thing about earthquakes is that they don't wait for Santa Ana winds or drought. That threat is constant.

Crushed vehicles in a soft-story apartment building that collapsed during the 1994 Northridge earthquake.
(Roland Otero/Los Angeles Times)
“My worst nightmare is putting the two together,” Jones said. “Earthquake While We Have Santa Anas.”
Now I will never sleep.
For a day or two initially, I thought it might be time to pack it all up and move to safety as the fire spread. But I don't know if there's such a place in this world, and as Eaton and the Palisades fire numbers mount, I find myself rooted even deeper.
The Lucy Jones talks about resilience, eloquently .
My social worker A friend who lost his home Over the years the homeless in Altadena vowed through grief to recreate what he had lost, which gave me a deep connection and humility. Anthony Ruffin had bought the house from his stepfather, who had moved to West Altadena in 1972, when much of LA was off limits to black residents. He misses the house and the neighborhood and plans to rebuild on the site.
Selflessness Nursing home staff who bravely discharge patientsand the generosity of the Altadena family, who shared their love of their home and neighborhood, all made me feel more connected to the real Southern California – beyond myth and stereotype.
And to be connected is to be aware, to the land, to the planet, to survival, to each other.
steve.lopez@latimes.com