Mill Fire of 1975 – Stories of Panic, Loss and Resolve

This fire was traumatic for residents of the valley. There was a lot of fear, but also a lot of bravery and resolve to rebuild. The local paper, The Ledger, recorded several stories, which I’ll relate here.

The Klines had been the first to move into their neighborhood in 1947.

“It was just us and the jackrabbits then,” said Mr. Kline. They bought a small house on Harmony Place, then built another next door and rented out the first house. When the Klines were evacuated during the firestorm Monday morning, they paused at the end of their block and looked back briefly to see both their houses covered by a sheet of flame blowing down from the mountains. They were resigned to having lost both houses. But on Monday afternoon, after walking up from Foothill Boulevard, they turned the corner and tearfully found their rental destroyed but their own home still standing, charred around the edges. Would they rebuild their rental house?

“Sure,” said the Klines. “This is the best place in the world to live!”

The Brown family on Cloudcrest barely escaped. They had arrived home on Sunday night at 10 to see fire on the ridges above them. They took their two kids to a family member’s home down the hill, then returned to their home to load up their cars for evacuation. At 1:30 a.m. they got the word to evacuate but they hesitated, staying a little longer to hose down their roof a last time. At 3 a.m. firemen came by and told them they could stay, that the fire was retreating. But just after 4 a.m. the wind gusted suddenly and they could see the fire sweeping down toward them. The flames engulfed their house. They managed to get to their cars and escape.

“I had to grope my way along the side of the house to the car as hot embers like a snowstorm rained down on us.”

They returned Monday morning to find that their house and its contents of family heirlooms was now a smoking pile of rubble.

The Place family on Goss Canyon Avenue at the top of Briggs was luckier. After the rest of the family evacuated, teenage son Matt stayed behind and watered the roof. As the fire came over the ridge to descend into Goss Canyon in front of them, he was hit by gale force winds generated by the fire. To him it sounded like he was standing next to a freight train at full speed. He watched two coyotes run through the yard ahead of the flames. (Later one of the coyotes was found dead in their backyard, asphyxiated by the smoke.) A fireman passed, too, yelling to Matt, “Get out – the fire will be behind you in five minutes!”

Matt stayed put, still hosing his roof. Just when he’d had enough and was about to run, eight fire trucks roared up the street, unrolled hoses between each house, and swung into action. They tossed Matt a pair of goggles and gave him some quick shouted instruction on what to watch out for. They fought the flames back while down in Goss Canyon another large contingent of firefighters kept the flames from taking the 100-year-old Bathy ranch house.

Another family on Harmony Place evacuated in the chaos of that gigantic flare-up at 4 a.m. on Sunday morning, driving past flaming houses on their way out. Based on what they saw from the streets below they were sure their house was gone. But when they were allowed to return a few hours later they found their house standing. They were amazed to find that the firemen had “groomed” their house. All foliage had been cut away from the side. Pine needles, which had been foolishly allowed to accumulate on the roof and in the yard, had all been raked clean. The family would never know who the fireman had been who had taken such care of their home. This family and many more individuals filled the letters section of the local newspaper with notes of thanks to the firefighters.

  mike lawler