Storm’s Sad Legacy

Today there are few reminders of the mudslides that ravaged homes in Laguna Canyon one year ago Tuesday--only scattered mounds of debris and legal wrangles among neighbors who once banded together to survive.

Michael Fowlkes remembers last Feb. 23 as the day the hill behind him “shook and rumbled like a freight train” during an unrelenting El Nino storm that unleashed tons of water and mud, bypassing his Castle Rock Road house but damaging the homes below.

Two men died in the walls of mud that came crashing down; nine other people were injured and dozens left homeless.

The tragedy was the worst in Laguna Beach, which suffered the most damage in Orange County--$11 million--from last year’s series of El Nino storms. Overall, the powerful weather phenomenon caused $58 million in damage countywide.

The storms toppled expensive homes and tore up concrete storm channels, causing major flooding in several areas. No part of the county was spared. Slopes collapsed in several communities, leading residents to point fingers at those uphill, at developers who graded slopes, at cities and at others.

As the one-year deadline approaches to file lawsuits, those still hurting are looking to the courts for help. Several suits were filed this week alone, including one Friday by a resident elsewhere in Laguna Beach against the city and its water district.

The tragedy of the Laguna Canyon slide is still being felt by residents, though in different ways.

Charles and Ann Quilter’s three-story house was among those damaged by the Laguna Canyon slide. Their home sits near the bottom of the canyon, several hundred feet below Fowlkes’ home and even farther from the top of the hill that collapsed behind the Fowlkes house.

Earlier slides during that stormy night had sent residents running for shelter to nearby homes. The Quilters and the Fowlkeses acted as good Samaritans, taking in strangers who were left homeless.

But the strangers barely had time to shower and rest. Just before midnight, an avalanche of water and mud swept through the Quilters’ house, injuring the Quilters and others and killing one of the guests.

This year, the Quilters and Fowlkeses are on opposite sides of a legal dispute stemming from the slide.

The Quilters, who are still awaiting approval from Laguna Beach to repair their home, contend that an embankment on the Fowlkes property contributed to the damage they suffered. Fowlkes accuses the Quilters of ingratitude.

“Unbelievable! After all the help we’ve given them cleaning debris from under their house during previous storms,” said Fowlkes. “Unbelievable! He came by a few days ago with papers from his lawyer telling me we have 20 days to respond or he’ll sue.”

Charles Quilter, however, said he has no plans to sue his neighbors uphill. The documents were pro forma, simply recommendations stemming from a hydrologist’s report, he said.

“We’ll get this problem resolved, neighbor to neighbor. Not in the courts,” said Quilter, a Delta Airlines pilot.

Quilter said he and his wife have filed a claim against the county over the embankment, which held water back and created a small reservoir.

“This embankment filled up, and everything burst over the top, like a huge destructive bubble,” Quilter said.

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Except for the legal wrangling, all seems right with picturesque Laguna Canyon these days. The emerald hills, dotted with scrub oak, camouflage the geological scars caused by the slide that zigzagged down the east slope of the narrow canyon.

“Everything is green. So you can’t see where mudflows cut a path of destruction,” said Fowlkes, a Fox Sports Network producer. “But a lot of this exposed bedrock was covered with oak trees and vegetation at this time last year.”

Fowlkes, who has lived on Castle Rock Road for five years, and other residents know that danger is a frequent companion to their idyllic lifestyle. Summer brings the threat of brush fires, and winter’s rains can trigger slides.

Little Tiffany Sarabia came to symbolize the pluckiness of canyon residents.

The infant was sleeping in her crib last year and her family was watching television when the hill above collapsed. Teresa Sarabia grabbed her daughter just as half the small wood-frame house began to break apart.

But the flood yanked Tiffany from her mother’s arms and trapped her parents in mud, lumber and debris. Tiffany was carried away by the cascading water; her crying becoming fainter until the Sarabias could not hear their baby anymore.

Moments later, though, Gary Segraves, who was outside searching for his own daughter, plucked what he thought was a ball of mud from the watery flow and was surprised to see that it was a baby. Tiffany ended up with a group of firefighters, who tended to her before reuniting the baby with her mother and sending both to a hospital. Segraves’ child also was rescued.

Despite such travails, Laguna Canyon remains ever the enchantress.

“I wouldn’t live anyplace else. I’ve lived here 26 years and loved every minute,” said William Svendson, a teacher who has owned a home atop Castle Rock for 26 years.

The canyon, Fowlkes said, is “a little patch of paradise--an oasis in the middle of the insanity that is Southern California.”