LA wildfire evacuees scramble to find shelter, exacerbating housing shortages

Tens of thousands of Los Angeles wildfire evacuees are now scrambling to find — and stay in — temporary shelter, exacerbating the housing shortage in one of America’s most disadvantaged cities.

With 92,000 people across Los Angeles still under evacuation orders Monday, displaced people are scattered across Southern California, in shelter beds, hotel rooms, relatives’ spare rooms and friends’ couches, unsure of where to go next as extreme fire danger still looms the second week.

The search for long-term housing has already sparked bidding wars in some neighborhoods on the brink of fire. In the upscale Brentwood neighborhood near the Palisades fire, one real estate agent suddenly received 1,000 applicants for a new rental ad. In Pasadena, a family whose home burned in the Eaton fire in Altadena said they will soon lose their emergency short-term rental they’ve been staying in since the fire to a family willing to pay $8,000 a month.

Some evacuees, like Lila King, ended up staying in their vehicles.

Mrs. King, 75, has bounced between motels and slept in her pickup truck with her 40-year-old son since they were displaced by the Eaton fire.

Ms. King recently had surgery after breaking several ribs in a fall, and nights spent sleeping in her truck left her in pain. She said she’s been living off tacos from a nearby gas station and wonders when, if ever, she’ll be able to return to her mobile home in Altadena, an unincorporated community in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains that was ravaged by the Eaton Fire.

“We’re trying to get help to find a place,” she said. “I’m worried.”

The American Red Cross and other agencies have opened eight shelters in Los Angeles County that can collectively accommodate nearly 800 evacuees; the largest, in the Pasadena Civic Auditorium, had almost 500 people.

Some displaced by the fire are lying on couches and spare bedrooms with families and friends. Others are staying in hotels and holiday homes for now, anxiously counting the days before they have to find other accommodation.

“We’re scattered all over the place,” said Nic Arnzen, vice president of the Altadena City Council.

Mr. Arnzen’s home was one of more than 6,500 buildings in Altadena that burned. After the fire, he and his husband, their 18-year-old daughter and a family friend crammed into an Airbnb rental with their two dogs, a cat and a rabbit.

He said nearly all of Altadena’s roughly 45,000 residents have been displaced, and that water contamination and toxic debris left by the fire will complicate efforts to return even those whose homes survived. Some of his neighbors moved in with family, friends and strangers nearby. Others have moved out of state, at least for now.

For many, the emotions and adrenaline of the initial aftermath have given way to the reality that longer-term accommodations must be found.

“We were already in a housing crisis,” said Mr. Arnzen. “Everybody’s rushing home.”

Price gouging for apartment rentals and other goods and services is prohibited in California under an emergency declaration issued by Governor Gavin Newsom. This means that rents cannot be increased by more than 10 percent compared to those at the beginning of the state of emergency.

But a review of active rental listings found some are up 15 percent to 64 percent since the fire.

Several families whose homes burned said they were so caught up in dealing with their insurance companies and trying to get home to assess the damage that they didn’t even begin to look beyond the next day’s horizon.

“It’s like you’re lost in a fog,” said Godwin Amafa, 69, whose home of 25 years in Altadena burned down. He and his wife were staying at a hotel in Pasadena and said the $140 a night rate seemed reasonable, even with the large number of evacuees.

“I can be here as long as I can afford it,” he said.

Julio Partida, 58, and his family spent several days at an Airbnb in City Terrace, east of downtown Los Angeles. Family and friends then offered space in their homes, but Mr. Partida said he doesn’t know where his family will end up. It’s still hard, he said, to think about life beyond the short term.

“These are not things you prepare for,” he said.

Closer to the Rose Bowl, where the Colemans are parked, Parking Lot F became an operations center, where firefighters and other law enforcement officials could refuel and sleep.

The Colemans’ home in Altadena was spared, and for now the couple said they are waiting for the fire danger to subside and the all-clear to re-enter their neighborhood. To pass the time, they checked their phones for news about the fires and took their three dogs – Trixie, Molly and Waldo – for walks.

“We’ll just wait it out,” Mrs Coleman, 80, said.

Finn-Olaf Jones contributed reporting from Pacific Palisades, Mimi Dwyer from Pasadena and Christopher Flavelle contributed from Washington.