Flames, Ash and Devastation: Memories of the Oakland Hills Fire

The enormity of the Oakland Hills fire first overwhelmed me on a quiet Tuesday morning 20 years ago.

I was standing on a street in the Hiller Highlands subdivision near the Oakland/Berkeley border.

The ground where homes used to stand was completely covered in grayish ash. All that was left of hundreds of houses were a few chimneys and concrete foundations.

Wisps of smoke still rose from the soot. Small flames still flickered in tiny pockets of the decimated neighborhood.

Blackened hulks of automobiles with no tires or windows littered the roads, parked where their owners had left them when they decided to run from the flames.

I did a "360 turn" to survey the damage. I couldn't see anything that wasn't burned. Nothing.

I was there covering the aftermath of the historic blaze for the Contra Costa Times. This was the first day reporters were allowed into the destruction zone.

My coverage had begun two days earlier on Sunday afternoon, Oct. 20, 1991, when the newspaper's city editor called me at home during my daughter's birthday party to tell me I had to come into work.

That night, I sat at a desk in The Times' Walnut Creek headquarters and took notes from five reporters in the field. They called in descriptions and quotes, which I assembled into a front-page story.

The reporters' voices were jittery and tense.

At one point, one of the reporters, Robert Oakes, was telling me something when he abruptly said, "Dave, I have to go."

I said, "Wait, Robert, I have a question."

He said, "No, Dave. I see flames. I have to go."

My response was quick. "Go, Robert. Go."

The statistics from that fire are startling enough. It killed 25 people, scorched 1,520 acres and destroyed or damaged 3,469 homes and apartments. More than 5,100 people were left homeless.

Beyond my experiences as a journalist, the fire hit home personally on that Tuesday morning when my bulky mobile phone rang while I stood amid the ash and smoke.

The call was from Times columnist Gary Bogue. He said Lucy Mantz, the newspaper's data processing director, had not shown up at work for two days. She lived in Hiller Highlands. He gave me her address, described her two cars and asked me to check it out.

I found a firefighter to help me. The street signs in Hiller Highlands had all been melted to clumps of metal, so there was no way for me to find her street, much less her house.

The firefighter took out a map, pinpointed the location and drove me there. The employee's home had been reduced to ash. I saw the blackened shells of both her cars. There was no way she could have run from the flames from this high perch.

I turned to the firefighter and said, "You should have the coroner come up here." Authorities did eventually sift through the ash and found her body. It turns out Lucy, a 46-year-old widow who lived alone, didn't feel well that day, took some cold medicine and laid down to take a nap.

That afternoon, I visited a burned-out Montclair neighborhood right after residents were first allowed to return.

These folks had the blank stare of disbelief painted all over their faces. I remember standing on the front steps of what used to be their homes and asking if I could come in, even though there was nothing but ash there.

One young man celebrated when he found his high school class ring amid the rubble. It was all he really had left.

Others talked about how lucky they felt to be alive and how they would rebuild.

So Many Incredible Stories

As the weeks and months passed, I interviewed people with incredible stories.

There was the Oakland Fire Department lieutenant who was in the canyon behind the Parkwood Apartments that Sunday morning when the fire reignited. He rushed under a water tank and watched as 50-foot flames leaped over his head to the eucalpytus trees above.

Later that day, he suffered a heart attack. Some of his fellow firefighters speculated it was due to the stress of the fire reigniting into such a huge firestorm. The lieutenant never worked another day on active duty for the fire department.

I talked to a young man who drove his motorcycle through the flames to escape.

Another young man told me how he and his mother were driving out the back way of Hiller Highlands when they got trapped. He told his mother to hang on, gunned his car and sped through the flames, not knowing if they would come out the other side.

I talked to a man who, along with a few others, survived the fire by jumping into the Hiller Highlands' community pool and creating a tent of protection out of towels, blankets and lawn chairs.

Investigators told me about the people who died. How they probably suffocated before the fire got too close because the 2,000-degree flames would have sucked all the oxygen out of the air.

I visited the site on Charing Cross Road where 11 people were killed. Drivers there got stuck in the traffic jam of fleeing residents and died when the flames swept through.

An Oakland police hat was placed there as a memorial to officer John Grubensky. He died while trying to direct traffic. His body was found on top of a small child, as if he could shield that young boy from the heat and flames.

I listened to the 9-1-1 tapes from that Sunday morning. I heard people describing the flames to Oakland Fire dispatchers. I also heard people asking things such as whether their soccer game that afternoon would be cancelled.

I also heard the desperate pleas from firefighters on the ground trying to call in California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection planes to drop retardant on the flames. Those planes didn't arrive for two hours.

Today, when I drive on Highway 24 through that area, I see the rebuilt homes and new landscaping sprouting up.

It's a beautiful area, and it's starting to look much like it did in October 1991. A bucolic blend of suburbs and nature.

I stare and take it in. As I drive past, I don't wonder if another Oakland Hills fire will erupt. I wonder when.

Click this link to read and to share your memories or post them in the comments below.

You can check out 20th anniversary photos of the fire at the San Francisco Chronicle's website.

To see video of the 1991 fire as well as what the neighborhoods look like today, go to this ABC 7 television news report.