Recently, I had the unique opportunity to go up to the Bridge Fire with Los Angeles Fire Department (LAFD) Captain Rich Diede to learn more about the LAFD’s wildfire mutual aid efforts.

Being born and raised on the East Coast, I did not grow up experiencing wildfires or understanding their impact. After driving through the aftermath of the Bridge Fire, the largest of California’s current fires with more than 54,000 acres burned, it became clear to me how these blazes devastate the environment and forever change the lives of the affected communities.

The destruction I saw was palpable. As I rode alongside Captain Diede, I was floored by the scene before me. What was once a stunning, mountainous region with alpine trees and lush greenery familiar to me from hikes and camping trips was reduced to miles and miles of burnt land.

Though no human lives had been lost in the fire, the loss of land and nature haunted me, illuminated by the darkened trees and bare ridge lines.   

While we drove along, Captain Diede shared with me that he had been deployed to major fires as part of the LAFD’s mutual aid efforts for 34 years. While each fire is different, he emphasized that the work required both before and after major fires break out involves a multi-agency effort to restore the environment and ensure the safety of neighboring communities as they attempt a return to normalcy.

Just before our journey, Captain Diede had returned from an LAFD mutual aid deployment to the Coffee Pot Fire in Sequoia National Park. Though he was not assigned to the Bridge Fire, some of his crew members from the LAFD’s Heavy Equipment Division were up doing maintenance work with tools and equipment that had been funded by the LAFD Foundation. He was gracious enough to provide me with a firsthand perspective of our mission in action.  

The air was crisp that morning with low-hanging fog, ideal conditions for assisting crews with fire suppression. On our way to his team’s staging area, a few miles away from where the fire had burned, Captain Diede emphasized that the number one priority when the LAFD deploys mutual aid is fire suppression, or doing everything possible to stop the fire in its tracks.

As we turned onto a fire road and made our way up the mountainside, I saw bulldozers and other apparatus coming into view.

As soon as I stepped out of Captain Diede’s truck, I came face to face with a massive bulldozer, funded by donor dollars through the LAFD Foundation. Captain Diede explained that when the Bridge Fire was posing significant danger to communities, these bulldozers were hard at work creating “dozer lines” in the potential path of the fire.  

While fire roads improve access for fire trucks and engines to get as close to the fire as possible, what we drove up to get to the staging area, these dozer lines clear several-foot-wide pathways of brush and vegetation to slow down the spread of the fire.

When I noticed the dozers moving diagonally across the lines they had created up the side of the moutain building what looked like small mounds that ran across the width of the pathway, Captain Diede explained that they were going to become drainage systems.

“There’s lots of rehab involved, trying to return the environment to its natural state,” he emphasized. These drainage systems are part of that rehabilitation, slowing down erosion and preventing mudslides as a result of all the cleared brush. In areas that have been burned, land maintenance involves clearing trees that may fall and cause damage after the fire has passed when their charred roots break apart – another job for the dozers.

“We spend more time fixing what we ‘break’ than what we do when we’re fighting the fire,” he chuckled, underscoring the care and attention it takes to reverse the damage caused by heavy equipment.

When we left the staging area and traveled into the burn area, there was a palpable shift in energy. Talking and laughter dwindled as we took in the state of everything around us – a familiar sight to Captain Diede, but one that gave me pause.

I saw where the remnants of buried ash had created eerie pockets of faint white smoke that twisted into the air among gnarled tree branches. What I smelled on the wind was reminiscent of a campfire, but less comforting. The scent was stronger, sootier, and more overwhelming.

Being in the wake of the fire underscored for me the significant loss that comes long after the flames have dissipated. 

After three decades of fighting wildfires, Captain Diede remembered the comrades that he had lost along the way, a sobering reminder of all that firefighters sacrifice to keep us safe.

As we continued through, he reflected on deployments where fires have impacted evacuated communities and the role that the LAFD played in trying to save as many homes as possible.

He said that if he and his team can’t save a home or a community, they do their best to identify meaningful items and return them to individuals who have been forced to leave everything behind.

It stuck with me how deeply Captain Diede values the opportunity to not only try and protect homes but to salvage something of significance for families that could potentially lose everything.

It’s one of few gestures that can bring solace to those who experience unimaginable loss amid the ashes of a major wildfire.