For Residents, Time to Rejoice and Say Prayers

Joyful Monte Nido residents threw a picnic for firefighters who defended the canyon hamlet and somber Malibu residents prayed for the strength to rebuild ruined homes as the flames that savaged the Santa Monica Mountains finally died out Sunday.

By late afternoon, fire officials said they had achieved 97% containment of the disastrous 18,000-acre arson fire that killed three people and destroyed 323 homes and 112 other structures in Malibu, Topanga and Calabasas. Some weary firefighters began packing their gear to go home.

About 570 engine companies, half of what the fire had commanded at its peak, and 216 camp crews with hand tools were still on duty Sunday near Topanga Canyon Boulevard, county fire officials said. The 5,465 firefighters and support personnel doused hot spots, cleared brush or awaited discharge orders.

Mop-up crews with rakes and shovels scraped a three-foot-wide swath of bare earth around the fire. No injuries were reported on what was expected to be the last day of the fire, officials said.

Meanwhile, firefighter patrols continued their 24-hour scrutiny of the blackened acres, cruising fire roads and alert for a flare-up or hint of smoke.

“Fire can travel for weeks underground through the roots,” said Los Angeles County Fire Department Inspector Steve Knevelbaard. “Embers inside of a tree or an old log all of a sudden can pop up. Two weeks after (the) fire, we’ll get calls from people who spot smoke.”

In Monte Nido, a woodsy, affluent village in the Santa Monica Mountains three miles north of downtown Malibu, about 200 residents showed up at a festive picnic to say thanks and shake hands with several dozen firefighters, including some who helped preserve the community as fire bore down on it last Tuesday.

The quiet enclave--nestled in the rocky mountains that appeared in the opening credits of the “MASH” TV series--was evacuated Tuesday morning as the blaze sprinted toward expensive homes and horse ranches owned by film and music industry executives, actors, lawyers and contractors.

But due to firefighters’ efforts and a fortuitous change in wind direction, the village was spared as flames abruptly veered toward Las Flores Canyon, where numerous homes were destroyed.

A misspelled sign hung by one Monte Nido resident on a green fire engine parked across the road from the tony Saddle Peak Lodge restaurant summed up local sentiment:

“Thanks Firefighters. Your Tired--But Your Heros.”

At a private park called Fleeman’s Meadow, grateful homeowners plied firefighters with homemade pasta salad, barbecued chicken, coffee cake, pickles, brownies and other goodies while peppering them with questions about firefighting tactics and equipment.

In turn, the firefighters--some in crisp blue uniforms and others in sooty yellow slickers--told hair-raising fire tales, passed on fire-safety tips and thrilled children by letting them sit in the cab of a firetruck and set off the siren.

“You should eat more,” Jenifer Rouse, a student at nearby Pepperdine University, urged Paul Anderson, a Los Angeles County Fire Department engineer.

“You know what happens if we eat more, we take a nap. We can’t take a nap now,” replied a smiling Anderson, referring to ongoing mop-up efforts.

Several firefighters said they were surprised at the degree of appreciation shown by local homeowners, especially given their affluence. Firefighters said they usually get thanked after saving people’s homes, but this was the first time they had been feted by an entire town.

“People told me, ‘Hey, don’t let the money thing make you think we’re not regular people,’ ” said Randy Hall, a walrus-mustached firefighter with the U.S. Forest Service.

“You come here and you find these people are great. It makes me want to bring my family down from Northern California to visit,” said Hall, who lives in rural Cedarville.

Tony DeFalco, a burly fire helicopter dispatcher for the U.S. Bureau of Land Management in Las Vegas, put it more succinctly.

“We sleep in the dirt and they treated us nice,” he said, as he downed a plate of barbecued chicken.

Residents said they were worried their isolated hamlet might be destroyed, given the fire’s ferocity and speed, and were well aware of the risks taken by firefighters to protect them.

“We’re grateful for our homes,” said Victor Brandt, an actor who recently appeared in the movie “Sliver.”

“This is also a mystical valley, according to the Chumash (Indians). They say that Saddle Peak Ridge is a virgin mother who would take it on herself to burn rather than have the valley burn. . . . That was interesting to learn when I moved here. And heartening.”

Meanwhile, in Malibu, surfers rode the waves and the curious clogged Pacific Coast Highway, gawking at ashen hillsides and bluff-top ruins.

More than 100 local residents, including many who had lost homes in last week’s fires, gathered for an interdenominational service at the Malibu Presbyterian Church near Pepperdine University. One floor below the worshipers, Red Cross workers--some wearing “I Survived the Flood” T-shirts--handed out food and clothing to burned-out locals.

At one point during the service, the congregation gave a standing ovation to a trio of local firefighters in attendance. Parishioners recited the names of those whose homes were destroyed and asked God to help them rebuild.

“Give us the strength as we face the paperwork, the phone calls and the inconveniences of starting over again,” said the Rev. Anne Broyles of Malibu United Methodist Church.

The Rev. Susan Klein of St. Aidans Episcopal Church spoke of a group of Vietnamese Buddhists who came from Riverside to deliver care packages.

“We all feel so buoyed inside by the goodness and generosity,” she said.

“Tragedies are . . . horrible, yet a wonderful time to focus on what really matters in life.”

* LANDMARK HOME GONE: The Malibu home of “Auntie Mame” playwright Jerome Lawrence was destroyed. F1