Many owners in the fire area couldn't document how big their houses actually were after 50+ years of additions, mostly without permits. (The City of Oakland isn't terribly good about keeping old permit records either.) One of the insurance companies decided, in spring of '92, to have all the foundations mapped out, so they'd have at least some idea how big the houses were. I was a young engineer just a year out of school when I hired on with the company the insurance company brought on board.
We did a little research and found out about pink concrete; we also looked up the temperature that aluminum, copper, and glass melt at. It turns out of you have any of those on the site, the concrete is probably a loss.
For several months, me and two other guys, one young like me and one older and more experienced, would go climbing around different house foundations with take measures and levels and graph paper, drawing foundation plans.
It was great work - outdoors in nice weather, with great views. There was one house where instead of poppies, the entire footprint of the house was a carpet of tiny conifers, all about 6 inches tall.
One house from the 1940s had almost completely intact fittings except where a piece had been broken off. There was no rebar in the footing, but because they used elongated pieces of river rock in the concrete, it was less cracked than most of the concrete we saw.
Another house - part of a four-plex - was tipping down the hill. One wall had been capped, 8 inches thick at the downhill end tapering to nothing at the uphill end. The slab was capped, too. The wall and slab were out of level enough to need about as much capping again to re-level the house. When we got back to the office and were talking about it, the owner of the firm said "oh, that one", and opened a file drawer that was all the file they already had on that house - the owner had filed a claim before the fire. The insurance company was happy to pay out that claim and be done with that lot forever.
What a great read showing us what it’s like to have your work destroyed, then to go back and rebuild. I have wondered about the rebuilding after a fire. I wonder about LA these days.
Thank you! Without fire insurance, I think rebuilding in the LA area will go pretty poorly, or, at least, the people who rebuild, who purchase the lot, will not be the ones who lost their home. Those people will be set adrift. Moreover, getting a house project through the regulatory nightmare of building department bureaucracy has always been bad, but no doubt, given LA government what it is, this time will be even worse. The trauma of losing a house will be amplified by five times for those who push through the process. The ten years it took to rebuild the Oakland Hills will seem fast by comparison.
Didn’t California’s rules about not raising insurance rates cause companies to stop insuring houses? That regulatory nightmare is not good. I wonder where people are living who have no hope to rebuild. It’s troubling we hear nothing about whats going on there and how people are doing.
Agreed, it’s troubling that the complete destruction of a person’s life should become an ideological opportunity for a bureaucrat, but, that is what’s happening.
"Concrete exposed to temperatures greater than approximately 570°F often turns a shade of pink, associated with chemical changes of the iron-containing compounds in the aggregates and paste matrix. At much higher temperatures—which are not commonly encountered during typical structure fires—the concrete can turn back to a light gray and then eventually to a yellowish-brown color. Concrete that has turned pink is damaged and should be replaced."
My engineer brain couldn't resist looking it up!
A different feel to this chapter - because the family is involved, rather than the crew?
We have a builder friend who built his own house, lost it in a house fire, and rebuilt it again himself. He just "moved forward", where I think that may have destroyed me.
Thanks for the info! It was definitely a weird sight to see pink concrete!
I think once you've built a house a few times, you develop a patience for the process, you come to know how long things take—and with your expectations in line, it's pretty easy to recognize that a steady application of effort will yield steady progress.
This was a fire story, everyone's favorite kind of story—that's my explanation of the difference.
Your recounting project is a powerful engine but with this you’ve hit the upper register. Maybe someday - perhaps soon - Californians who want to write about the place will take some cues from it but also know they’ve gotten something from the source that will always stay with them.
Yes, surreal is the right word. And often for a long time, you’re in a state of not even knowing whether your house is still standing or not. Thank you
Very good. The things we must go through and yet continue on is amazing. I did the same thing after the 1994 Northridge earthquake. I drove around looking for the masonry walls we built in the San Fernado Valley. They all managed to survive. Only the walls that had no rebar fell over.
You described a pet peeve of mine-- putting on a show. Be patient and get it done, then go onto the next one. In the long run things go better and faster and everyone in happy. Sometimes we hire guys to "man the job" but they end up slowing everything down. Once again a compelling read. Thanks. Take care
Thanks, David. Sometimes we’d put on show just to make the boss happy but it rarely needed doing. This particular job, it was pronounced and desperate. I mean crazy. But we did it. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out but that company must have lost their ass on a half dozen of those jobs.
Your jarring visit back to the homes you worked on that were no longer there reminded me of a sad trip I made to the SFO Bay Bridge after the old Eastern Span had been demolished in favor of the shiny new suspension bridge. I spent two of my peak years crawling over that 1920’s metal structure in the cold and wind and fog and it was just gone. It became plain to me then that very little is permanent in the world of men.
i think you’re right naturally, but the things that carpenters build last longer than most things. Man I hate that new bridge. It’s so pathetic compared to the old one.
Many owners in the fire area couldn't document how big their houses actually were after 50+ years of additions, mostly without permits. (The City of Oakland isn't terribly good about keeping old permit records either.) One of the insurance companies decided, in spring of '92, to have all the foundations mapped out, so they'd have at least some idea how big the houses were. I was a young engineer just a year out of school when I hired on with the company the insurance company brought on board.
We did a little research and found out about pink concrete; we also looked up the temperature that aluminum, copper, and glass melt at. It turns out of you have any of those on the site, the concrete is probably a loss.
For several months, me and two other guys, one young like me and one older and more experienced, would go climbing around different house foundations with take measures and levels and graph paper, drawing foundation plans.
It was great work - outdoors in nice weather, with great views. There was one house where instead of poppies, the entire footprint of the house was a carpet of tiny conifers, all about 6 inches tall.
One house from the 1940s had almost completely intact fittings except where a piece had been broken off. There was no rebar in the footing, but because they used elongated pieces of river rock in the concrete, it was less cracked than most of the concrete we saw.
Another house - part of a four-plex - was tipping down the hill. One wall had been capped, 8 inches thick at the downhill end tapering to nothing at the uphill end. The slab was capped, too. The wall and slab were out of level enough to need about as much capping again to re-level the house. When we got back to the office and were talking about it, the owner of the firm said "oh, that one", and opened a file drawer that was all the file they already had on that house - the owner had filed a claim before the fire. The insurance company was happy to pay out that claim and be done with that lot forever.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Fascinating stuff.
Thank you, Librarian!
What a great read showing us what it’s like to have your work destroyed, then to go back and rebuild. I have wondered about the rebuilding after a fire. I wonder about LA these days.
Thank you! Without fire insurance, I think rebuilding in the LA area will go pretty poorly, or, at least, the people who rebuild, who purchase the lot, will not be the ones who lost their home. Those people will be set adrift. Moreover, getting a house project through the regulatory nightmare of building department bureaucracy has always been bad, but no doubt, given LA government what it is, this time will be even worse. The trauma of losing a house will be amplified by five times for those who push through the process. The ten years it took to rebuild the Oakland Hills will seem fast by comparison.
Didn’t California’s rules about not raising insurance rates cause companies to stop insuring houses? That regulatory nightmare is not good. I wonder where people are living who have no hope to rebuild. It’s troubling we hear nothing about whats going on there and how people are doing.
Agreed, it’s troubling that the complete destruction of a person’s life should become an ideological opportunity for a bureaucrat, but, that is what’s happening.
Really loved this one...
"Concrete exposed to temperatures greater than approximately 570°F often turns a shade of pink, associated with chemical changes of the iron-containing compounds in the aggregates and paste matrix. At much higher temperatures—which are not commonly encountered during typical structure fires—the concrete can turn back to a light gray and then eventually to a yellowish-brown color. Concrete that has turned pink is damaged and should be replaced."
My engineer brain couldn't resist looking it up!
A different feel to this chapter - because the family is involved, rather than the crew?
We have a builder friend who built his own house, lost it in a house fire, and rebuilt it again himself. He just "moved forward", where I think that may have destroyed me.
Thanks for the info! It was definitely a weird sight to see pink concrete!
I think once you've built a house a few times, you develop a patience for the process, you come to know how long things take—and with your expectations in line, it's pretty easy to recognize that a steady application of effort will yield steady progress.
This was a fire story, everyone's favorite kind of story—that's my explanation of the difference.
Your recounting project is a powerful engine but with this you’ve hit the upper register. Maybe someday - perhaps soon - Californians who want to write about the place will take some cues from it but also know they’ve gotten something from the source that will always stay with them.
Thank you very much! You’ve given me something to think about.
Yes, surreal is the right word. And often for a long time, you’re in a state of not even knowing whether your house is still standing or not. Thank you
Your detailed description brought back vivid memories from when we lost our home in a Colorado wildfire about 12 years ago. It’s a surreal experience.
Very good. The things we must go through and yet continue on is amazing. I did the same thing after the 1994 Northridge earthquake. I drove around looking for the masonry walls we built in the San Fernado Valley. They all managed to survive. Only the walls that had no rebar fell over.
You described a pet peeve of mine-- putting on a show. Be patient and get it done, then go onto the next one. In the long run things go better and faster and everyone in happy. Sometimes we hire guys to "man the job" but they end up slowing everything down. Once again a compelling read. Thanks. Take care
Thanks, David. Sometimes we’d put on show just to make the boss happy but it rarely needed doing. This particular job, it was pronounced and desperate. I mean crazy. But we did it. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out but that company must have lost their ass on a half dozen of those jobs.
An interesting take on a historic event!
Your jarring visit back to the homes you worked on that were no longer there reminded me of a sad trip I made to the SFO Bay Bridge after the old Eastern Span had been demolished in favor of the shiny new suspension bridge. I spent two of my peak years crawling over that 1920’s metal structure in the cold and wind and fog and it was just gone. It became plain to me then that very little is permanent in the world of men.
Thanks! Focusing on a house remodel now, so the creativity is going in a different direction.
I hope we’re going to see something new from you soon!
i think you’re right naturally, but the things that carpenters build last longer than most things. Man I hate that new bridge. It’s so pathetic compared to the old one.