Booksellers Seek Return to Normalcy After Catastrophic Wildfires

Last year, Los Angeles (through the offices of its mayor and library system) chose an official novel for the entire city to read, a work by native son Ray Bradbury -- Fahrenheit 451, named for the temperature at which book-paper burns. For much of the past twelve days, as L.A. and surrounding communities suffered the unprecedented catastrophe of nearly a dozen huge wildfires raging over four counties, from Ventura to San Diego, that choice took on a dreadful aptness.

"It seemed like all of Southern California was burning," said Adrian Newell, book department buyer-manager at Warwick's in La Jolla (near San Diego). "I've lived here all my life and I've never seen anything like this. It was just really, really frightening."

Warwick's, a general interest store "literally a stone's throw from the ocean," was a fair distance from the fires that menaced San Diego. "But the air quality was affected throughout the county," Newell said.

San Diego's air was so thick with smoke and ash that the mayor urged employers to let staff stay home last week. Schools were closed.

Book business remained normal at Warwick's, though -- partly, thought Newell, because many San Diegans took refuge in the neighboring town. "I guess people came to La Jolla because it seemed safe, being so close to the water."

The main effect felt by Warwick's due to the fires was the interruption of deliveries. "At one point, most of the major freeways here were closed," Newell said. "It was very difficult to get product, obviously, because it's all coming from the L.A. area -- which was also very hard-hit."

The Yellow Book Road, a children's and teachers' bookstore in nearby La Mesa, was also a safe distance from the San Diego County fires, said co-owner Dale Spector: "They were east of us, and then north and south of us. But the air quality of course was awful, and two of my employees were evacuated from their homes."

Though her employees' places were spared, Spector said, "I don't think there's anyone here that doesn't know someone who lost a house." Some 2,400 homes burned in San Diego. "The people who live in Scripps Ranch and in the East County say it's like driving to an area that's been bombed. It's just decimated ... We've never had anything catastrophic like that happen in San Diego. I've been here 23 years; it's just not anything we've ever experienced.... People didn't have time to take things out of their homes. That fire moved so fast, all they could do was get out of the house and save themselves."

Spector's store closed the first Monday of the fires -- "when they were asking businesses to please not open, so that people wouldn't be out" -- and kept shortened hours the rest of the week. "Mornings, we had some customers, because I think people were sort of stir-crazy and wanted to get out. But by afternoon, it was pretty deserted. People were consumed in trying to take care of other things, and the air quality was so awful. Ash was falling all over the place. It really wasn't until maybe Friday afternoon that we really saw blue skies."

The Mysterious Galaxy store in San Diego was right in the thick of things, with separate fires burning to its west and east. But the mystery/science fiction shop stayed open, hosting previously scheduled author events attended by "small but appreciative audiences," said co-owner Maryelizabeth Hart.

"We really appreciated our Ingram rep's calling us to let us know the shipment was delayed by the fires and associated freeway closures," Hart said. "We would've probably assumed as much, but the courtesy of the call was very much appreciated."

By the end of last week, things were returning somewhat to normal in San Diego, as increased humidity cooled the air. But fires still menaced neighboring areas. "I suspect ... the home my grandfather hand-built for my great aunt," Hart e-mailed colleagues the day before Halloween, "the one I learned to play cards and make lemonade in, just south of Julian, will be among the losses."

But San Diegans were wakened one night soon after by the sound of a rain that further dampened the fires. "I actually pinched myself," said Hart, "worried (the rain sound) was just a wish-fulfillment dream." Her great-aunt's house, Hart learned, survived: "The current owners were alerted in time to bulldoze a firebreak around it before they had to evacuate."

As San Diego County residents picked up the pieces of their lives, Yellow Book Road helped. When teachers returned to their schools last Friday, Dale Spector said, "We had a lot of requests for books about wildfires. I think pretty much across the board, schools sort of put curriculum aside, to talk about this."

Yellow Book Road hosts frequent author-visit field trips for school children. A week of such events was scheduled for the first days of November. "We had some cancellations for the field trips on Monday, the first day back," Spector said. "But other schools felt it was important for the kids to try and follow their regular schedule and make things as normal as possible."

Meanwhile, other fire-ravaged parts of Southern California were still under siege.

Up north, in the resort area of Big Bear Lake, Margaret Tiefenthaler was chased from her store, Big Bear Book & Bean, on Tuesday, October 28, by the fire that was racing through the San Bernardino National Forest. "There was a voluntary evacuation warning at 8:30 a.m. Tuesday morning," she said. "And at 10:30 a.m. it became mandatory."

Tiefenthaler and crew gathered up pets, some photos and clothing, paperwork and bills. "We'd just received the new shipments, and it was sort of: 'Well -- okay!' Of course, bookstores are great fodder for fires. It was a little bit worrisome, when we left."

The conflagration came within three miles of the Big Bear dam. "People lower down the mountain lost everything," Tiefenthaler said. "Even the firefighters said there was no way they could stop the fire; it was not going to be stopped. They were prepared for it to just take this whole mountain, because we have so many dead trees. But then the fire came to a complete standstill. They couldn't believe it. They said, 'This was definitely God, this was not us.'"

The temperature dropped. Fog and cloud cover rolled in. There was rain. And then, to ice the weather cake -- it snowed.

"It's been an interesting 12 days," a relieved Tiefenthaler said on Tuesday, November 4, the day she reopened her undamaged store. "The firefighters did an awesome job; they kept the fire out of Big Bear Valley.

And I tell you, it was definitely divine intervention; because we had weather come in that was nowhere in sight."

Del Lago's Coffee, Books & Music, in Lake Arrowhead, west of Big Bear, had a similar close call surviving a wildfire, which was fueled by winds of up to 60 miles per hour.

"It got within possibly a mile and a half on one side of us," said managing partner Billy Ward, "maybe three miles on the other side.... It almost completely circled the lake, at one point."

Ward had to evacuate his store at midnight, Saturday, October 25. He wasn't allowed to return to the undamaged building until Tuesday, November 4. "We lost all our frozen, refrigerated, and perishable foods," he said.

"It's going to cost us, but ... we'll do fine.... We were very lucky, from a house standpoint. But it's affected everyone's homes, and business, and everything else. All that stuff's heavy-duty."

His first priority now, Ward said, is to restock. "Hopefully, we can get some deliveries up here on Friday." Getting customers -- both local and tourist-trade -- is another matter. "You don't know how soon people will get back up, and how soon business will pick back up.... If you don't live here, they won't let anybody on the mountain probably for another two to four weeks."

Still, Ward is grateful for what he has, at the end of a "horrendous" week. "We were okay," he said.

Over in Big Bear, Margaret Tiefenthaler echoed Ward's sentiment. "It hasn't been great for business," she said, "but you know what? We're still here!" -- Tom Nolan