
Malibu beach in 2020
The phone rang.
Seeing her name on the screen made my heart skip a beat. We’ve known each other for nearly 20 years. We’ve shared countless dinners, exchanged endless texts, but phone calls? Practically nonexistent. She hates them. In all these years, we’ve probably talked on the phone a handful of times—tops. So, when she calls, I know it’s serious.
I hurriedly ended my other meeting and picked up.
“Fire is coming! It’s close! What do I do? What do I do?”
Her words tumbled out, frantic and fast.
Earlier that day, we’d been texting about the wildfires. The Santa Ana winds were unusually strong—gusts roaring at over 70 mph (112 km/h) in some areas. If you’ve lived in California long enough, you know the drill: strong winds plus dry weather equals fire season’s worst-case scenario. We were worried but distant enough to think, Not us, not here.
She lives in Altadena; I’m on the west side, not far from the Palisades. Fires have always been a “somewhere else” problem. Sure, we’ve seen ash on our cars and the occasional smoky skies, but it never felt personal. That changed in an instant. The fire was here, and it was moving fast. Too fast.
Her panic poured through the phone. “What do I do?”
I forced myself to sound calm—at least one of us had to be. “Take a deep breath,” I said, though my own chest felt tight. “Grab the essentials: ID, passport, any important documents, and don’t forget dog food.”
The truth is, I wasn’t sure what to say. What do you tell someone when danger is literally at their doorstep?
It got me thinking about how people react when they have only minutes to act. I remembered hearing about someone in Malibu during a previous fire season. With the flames closing in, they grabbed a bobblehead and a surfboard. Neither helped them in any way, but in moments like that, logic takes a back seat to instinct—or chaos.
What would you take if you had 10 minutes? Your grandmother’s wedding ring? A box of photos? That unopened bottle of wine you’ve been saving for the “right” occasion?
Regardless of where you live or how low the danger level seems, it’s worth asking yourself: What would I take if I had 10 minutes, 30 minutes, or an hour to evacuate? Life has a way of throwing the unexpected at us when we least expect it.
Because when the moment comes—and it just might—having an answer could make all the difference.
P.S. My friend’s house was okay, but my other friend, Ashton Cynthia Clarke, lost her home to the Eaton Fire. If you have a few dollars to spare, here’s the link for donations. https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-ashton-recovering-from-fire-loss

Ashton’s house
I know the economy is tough for everyone lately. If donating isn’t an option or you have other people to save, please share the link. Every thought, every action, makes a difference. Thank you so much for your support.