One Year After the Palisades Fire That Burned California: What It Shares with the Camp Fire and the Realities of "Fire" Japan Must Prepare For
Last weekend, driving on a freeway near Los Angeles, the mountainsides looked just as they did that day a year ago. Charred, blackened trees stand dead, and in many places, ash still blankets the slopes. Yes, it's almost been a year since the Palisades Fire shook Southern California in January 2025.
That day, the dry, fierce Santa Ana winds blowing down from the Santa Monica Mountains rapidly expanded the flames. The upscale neighborhood of Pacific Palisades was quickly engulfed, forcing tens of thousands of residents to evacuate. Multiple wildfires broke out simultaneously across Southern California, and the event was nationally reported as the January 2025 Southern California Wildfires. Fortunately, fatalities from the Palisades Fire were kept to a minimum, but the area burned reached approximately 10,000 acres (roughly 850 Tokyo Domes).
Scenes Echoing the Nightmare of the "Camp Fire"
Seeing this devastation, I can't help but be reminded of memories from seven years ago. I'm talking about the Camp Fire that struck the same California in November 2018. Back then, the small northern town of Paradise was completely obliterated. I went to the site myself, and the scene was like a war zone. Eighty-five bodies were found in the ashes, with many more missing. The Camp Fire remains etched in history as the deadliest and most destructive wildfire California has ever seen.
Palisades and Camp. What these two wildfires share is that they both occurred in the Wildland-Urban Interface (WUI). In areas where residential neighborhoods abut forests and wildlands, once a fire ignites, it's nearly impossible to stop. In California, where climate change is driving increased aridity, wildfires are no longer just "extreme weather events" but are becoming a grim seasonal reality.
Lessons for Us Living in Japan
You might think, "That's their problem, not ours." But Japan is by no means a bystander. In the 2016 Itoigawa city fire in Niigata Prefecture, a large urban area was consumed by flames driven by strong winds. Even in my hometown of Kobe, we should have learned hard lessons from the fires following the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake. The crucial thing, however, is to integrate "preparedness" into our daily lives.
In California, authorities urge residents to take the following measures before each wildfire season. All of these can be adapted for use in Japan.
- Create Defensible Space: Keep your property's immediate surroundings (within 5 meters of your house) clear of dead vegetation, firewood, and other flammable materials.
- Prepare an Emergency Go-Bag: Pack essential documents, water, food, masks, and other necessities in a backpack ready to grab at a moment's notice.
- Share an Evacuation Plan with Family: Fires can strike at night. Establish multiple escape routes and a designated meeting point outside the immediate danger zone.
- Check Hazard Maps Regularly: Stay informed by checking your local municipality's information to understand if your area is at risk for wildfires.
The last point is especially critical. In Japan, too, visualization efforts are progressing, such as the Forestry Agency publishing "Wildfire Prevention Maps" in recent years. Living in a city doesn't automatically guarantee safety. As we saw, Pacific Palisades was an affluent residential area, yet it was turned to ash in an instant.
Don't Let "Fire" Fade from Memory—Learn from the Record
The exact number of victims from the Camp Fire still hasn't been finalized. It's a testament to the sheer scale of the catastrophe. For those who lost their homes in the Palisades Fire, the long road to rebuilding their lives continues even now. What we can do is ensure these events are not forgotten. And I sincerely hope that should a similar disaster ever strike Japan, the lessons learned from these experiences might help save someone's life.
Tonight, if sirens started wailing, would you be able to evacuate without hesitation? "Fire" always strikes suddenly. The scorched scars on the California landscape seem to pose that quiet, pressing question to us all.