After the Flames, a Life Flickers Out : Wildfire That Drove Alfred Wagner, 98, From His Home May Have Led to His Death

For generations of Pasadenans, the name of Alfred Wagner, who ran one of the city’s few swimming pool complexes for three decades, still conjures memories of blistering summer days and the bite of a dive into cold water.

“He was a wonderful man,” said Mary Ramsey, a Pasadena resident who spent her summers at Wagner’s pools at Washington Boulevard and Altadena Drive. “All the kids swam there and everyone knew him.”

Although the pools were taken out in the 1960s, Wagner remained on the property in a home he built overlooking Eaton Canyon.

And last month, as fires raging in the foothills swept down to his house, the frail 98-year-old insisted on staying to protect it.

Although Wagner initially seemed to escape unscathed, he fell ill with pneumonia and died Nov. 9 from what Sheriff’s Department investigators say were complications from smoke inhalation.

Wagner’s death has added a grim new dimension to the Altadena blaze, which destroyed 124 homes, but resulted in no deaths.

Although the coroner’s office has yet to classify Wagner’s death as fire-related, prosecutors are considering whether to file homicide charges against the 35-year-old transient accused of setting the blaze.

Andres Huang has claimed that he was sleeping in the foothills and started a small fire because he was cold.

Some of Wagner’s grandchildren said Friday that they prefer that no new charges be filed.

“When I heard the news, I was cursing the fire,” said his granddaughter, Beth Wagner Brust. “But he was 98 years old. He was an old man.”

Wagner had lived almost his entire life on the property near Eaton Canyon. Filomena Lim, who lived at the house as a full-time caretaker, said he always told her that he wanted to die there.

On the morning of Oct. 27, Lim was awakened by the sound of the winds whipping through the area.

As she entered Wagner’s bedroom to close the windows, she caught her first glimpse of the flames streaking the foothills.

“Look at the fire,” she said to Wagner.

He roused himself from the bed and looked outside. “Don’t worry,” she recalled him saying. “This always happens here. It’s still far away.”

When she went downstairs, she looked outside again. This time, the fire was down in the canyon and getting closer.

She got Wagner out of bed and dressed him. As they got outside, the fire had already begun to burn of Wagner’s house. Although he could barely walk, Wagner grabbed a hose to fight the fire.

There was no water pressure, so Lim pushed Wagner into his wheelchair and started for the street.

Even with the smoke around them, Wagner refused to go easily. He dragged his feet on the pavement, saying: “I’m going to put this fire out.”

“No, Mr. Wagner, we have to get out of here,” she said.

Wagner was quickly taken to a friend’s home and later moved to his grandson’s home in Newport Beach.

He seemed fine. But after a few days, he complained of feeling ill and weak, and was taken to a hospital, where he later died.

Wagner’s grandson, Steve Hollstein, said Wagner could be a stubborn, cantankerous man.

“No one was ever going to tell him how to do something,” Hollstein said. “To the end, he remained the boss.”

Hollstein said Wagner, known as A.V. to almost everyone, was born and grew up in Pasadena. He was a self-made man, and proud of it.

Wagner originally ran a commercial nursery in Pasadena. He bought the land off Altadena Drive to grow trees and shrubs.

The business flourished, but what fastened him in the memories of thousands of Southern Californians was his idea of building swimming pools.

In the 1930s, Wagner had dug a pond to irrigate his nursery. It turned out to be a popular spot for family and neighbors looking for relief on hot summer days.

In the early 1930s, he decided to build some swimming pools and charge admission. Wagner’s Pools were an immediate hit.

For 30 years, the pools were a gathering spot for the community. He could often be seen pacing around the pools or pitching pennies into the water for children.

He finally closed the pools around 1962. He built a new home on the edge of the canyon and settled in for retirement.

“He was a real character,” recalled Ramsey, who works in an office on Wagner’s property. “He always said he wanted to be interviewed by the local paper because he knew so much about this city. We’ve lost so much history with his passing.”