LOS ANGELES – Alexia Palomino was jolted awake, her heart racing. She had dreamt that flames were consuming her neighborhood and smoke was closing in fast.

Heart racing, she sat up in her bed.

“Just thirty seconds later, we received the evacuation notice,” she recounted.

Earlier that day, Palomino had left the home she had shared with her mother for 15 years to see the movie “Babygirl,” only to return to alarming evacuation alerts.

Officials had warned of severe fire danger in the Los Angeles area due to strong winds and rising temperatures. Now, Palomino gazed at the thick plume of smoke rising from the Eaton Fire near her home.

“At that moment, we all knew fire was a real threat because of the lack of rain,” she said. “We could see the fire’s glow from our home and started contemplating evacuation as it had never come this close before.”

Destructive wildfires, fueled by fierce winds, have swept through the Los Angeles area, displacing tens of thousands as flames consumed homes and landscapes. Countless firefighters are battling the blazes across multiple sites, including Santa Monica and the Pacific Palisades. Ash continues to fall, schools have shut down, and authorities are committed to protecting as much as possible.

Palomino and her mother are among those who lost their home. Others, like Zen Buddhist priest Karen Maezen Miller, face an uncertain future.

Miller has cared for a 109-year-old Japanese garden in Sierra Madre for nearly thirty years. She escaped with her husband as flames blazed in their rearview mirror. As they drove away, they recognized the chaos of the windstorm that had ravaged the area with gusts reaching 100 mph, scattering debris in every direction.

“I didn’t even want to look, it moved so swiftly. I just wanted my husband to drive away quickly,” Miller recounted. “You are trying to escape a fire, but the roads were blocked.”

When they woke up on Wednesday, it hit them that they could be without a home for an extended period: There were no updates on their house or neighborhood, and they were grappling with a growing fear that everything might be lost. As a Zen teacher, Miller has spent many years reflecting on life’s fleeting nature.

“Every lesson is a tough lesson,” she said with a sense of resignation. “But there’s always hope. It ignites like a small flame.”

Still in disbelief on Wednesday, Palomino struggled to process her frantic escape that morning, the tires of her Ford Bronco crunching over debris. Her priorities were limited to grabbing her MacBook with her unfinished PhD thesis, a few family photos, and some cash they had tucked away at home.

Palomino glanced back at their white, one-story Spanish-style home as they fled, etching the image into her memory for safekeeping.

“I wanted to ensure that I would see it one last time,” she recalled thinking as she drove away. “The streets were completely clogged with cars, to the point where it felt suffocating.”

Palomino took refuge at her brother’s house, keeping in touch with a firefighter neighbor for updates.

“He told me our neighbor’s house was ablaze, and five houses across the street were already lost,” shared Palomino, a PhD student. “I realized it wouldn’t be long before our own would be affected.”

Meanwhile, Kelsey Trainor and her wife prepared to evacuate with their go bag but quickly found themselves stuck in a significant traffic jam on Palisades Drive as the Palisade Fire escalated. With only one escape route, they felt trapped.

Trainor, who works as an attorney, described witnessing towering smoke from the Pacific Highlands and enormous flames on both sides of the road as they inched toward Sunset Boulevard. She observed people abandoning their vehicles and fleeing toward the ocean while aircraft dropped water from above.

With no cell service available, Trainor stepped out to check on friends who own Spruzzo’s Restaurant and Bar, which was taking in those in distress, providing water and allowing them access to restrooms.

“It felt surreal, like a scene out of a disaster movie playing in slow motion, with ash cascading around us and wind throwing it in our faces,” Trainor noted.

The couple relocated to California from the East Coast in 2023 and found themselves unprepared for such an experience. Trainor now wonders if their home has survived, but she’s bracing herself for the possibility of returning to nothing.

“We feel utterly hopeless and devastated,” Trainor shared. “We’re grateful to be safe in a hotel for a few days, but we’re uncertain about what comes next or where we should go.”

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Kalmus and her family were enjoying dinner just after 7 p.m. on Tuesday when they heard a car honking wildly outside their Pasadena home. They rushed outside to find Rich Snyder, a retired fire chief from Sierra Madre, shouting, “We need to evacuate! The fire is approaching!”

As powerful winds whipped her face, Kalmus spotted the Eaton Fire raging nearby. She quickly dashed back inside to gather her wife, Sheryl Geyer, their two children and three dogs, along with her elderly parents who live with them.

A Type 1 diabetic, Kalmus felt her heart racing as she packed her bag with necessary medications, including insulin.

“We left without phone chargers and my work and personal laptops,” Kalmus remembered. “We truly just walked out wearing the clothes on our backs.”

Right as they arrived at the Holiday Inn Express, Kalmus witnessed a transformer blow, cutting power at the hotel temporarily as they and other evacuees waited for their rooms.

She later received a phone call from a neighbor who stayed behind, warning her, “Embers are flying, and I see your roof is on fire.” Kalmus and her wife promptly returned home to see firefighters combating “candle-like flames” emerging from their attic, but had to leave once again due to worse conditions at nearby residences.

After a restless night, Kalmus conveyed that they are now anxiously waiting to learn the fate of their home.

“We’ve dealt with fires before but nothing at this scale,” Kalmus reflected. “It’s incredibly overwhelming, but thankfully we are safe.”

Palomino and her mother remain in disbelief. After being warned by their firefighter neighbor about the destruction, her uncle and brother ventured to their neighborhood to investigate: It’s all gone.

Unlike some neighbors, Palomino mentioned they have insurance and should be able to rebuild their home. However, she’s concerned about the impact on their neighborhood, which has been undergoing gentrification and was once a rare refuge for Black and Hispanic Americans in the 1960s. Today, those single-story houses often exceed $1 million, she noted.

Additionally, she worries about her family’s loss, remembering 15 years’ worth of memories connected to the house, alongside precious heirloom textiles from Mexico and jewelry passed down from her grandmother to her mother.

“Losing those memories feels like an invasion. Even if they rebuild the house perfectly, it won’t evoke the same feelings or scents,” she expressed on Wednesday, feeling secure now.