Fire and Flood in 1889

A confounding aspect of our natural ecology in the Crescenta Valley is the overlap of fire season and flood season that happens at this time of year. Our fire season extends from late summer well into December (and sometimes beyond) while our flood season begins in November with our first rains. Throughout our history we have been beset with back-to-back fires and floods in fall and winter. Such was the case in 1889 when the valley was only sparsely settled.

At the end of October of that year a small fire sprang up near the center of the Crescenta Valley to the west of the “town center” at La Crescenta Avenue and Foothill Boulevard (then named Los Angeles and Michigan Avenues). It started at noon and a breeze pushed the fire westward, spreading rapidly. By 2 o’clock the fire extended across the valley from the San Gabriel Mountains to the Verdugos and was being pushed in a line toward Tujunga.

A Mr. Thralls of Pasadena was in the western end of the Crescenta Valley cutting a wagonload of firewood to haul back to Pasadena via Foothill Boulevard. As the fire approached, he took off for home, but immediately found his way on Foothill blocked by the rapidly advancing flames. He drove his wagon quickly south, hoping to pick up Honolulu Avenue and reach the Verdugo Canyon, and flee that way. But the wind-driven fire swept across his path and cut off his escape. The fire was right in front of him now, and advancing on him. He abandoned his wagon and cut his horses loose from their harness, letting one run free and mounting the other one. As his wagon burned behind him, he galloped just ahead of the flames. The flames pursued him west for a mile until he came to an area that had been cleared completely of brush. There he paused and the fire burned around him, singeing him and his horse. He lost his wagon and barely escaped with his life.

As the fire crested the gap between the Crescenta Valley and Tujunga, a Mr. Blanchard (for whom Blanchard Canyon is named?) rallied some men and started a backfire, which kept the fire from homes there. By sunset the wind increased and the fire was roaring away from CV and into La Tuna Canyon. The flames and smoke were backlit by the setting sun, casting a spectacular red light on the valley.

Over a month later, at the beginning of November, the rains came. It rained steadily and hard for three days. General Shields, who lived at the top of La Crescenta Avenue and for whom Shields Canyon is named, recorded 11 inches on his rain gauge. The runoff sheeted down across the valley until the entire valley floor was covered with water. The several channels coming from the canyons in the San Gabriels shifted freely across the sloping valley, washing away anything in their paths. Professor White, who had his small ranch on the southeast corner of Foothill and Rosemont, lost much of his orchard and Dr. Briggs at the top of Briggs Avenue lost the road to his house.

The biggest loss was to the U.S. Postal Service. Mrs. Gray, who regularly carried mail between the Crescenta Valley and Tropico (lower Glendale), left the post office, then located in the general store at Foothill and La Crescenta, with bags of mail and headed south. She was in the Verdugo Canyon when the flood crossed the road and caught her wagon. She tumbled downstream with the wagon, and the horse was torn from the harness. She was trapped under the wagon when two men happened along the road and pulled her out, bruised and scraped but with no serious injuries. The horse was found far downstream, barely alive. Only one of the mailbags was found the next day, and the rest were never found. Perhaps someday some Glendale resident will dig up a moldering old leather bag in their yard, filled with the remnants of letters and postcards from old Crescenta Valley, an artifact from weather events that still plague us today.

  mike lawler