Get Out! Surviving The LA Wildfires
Which Guns Would You Grab?
A photo Clayton took before he left his house. He had no idea
that most of Altadena, Calif., would be destroyed by morning.
It was at about 2 a.m. the night of January 7, 2025, that I found myself clearing windfallen debris from my driveway. The glow in the middle distance had deepened in its brightness and color, and the air was becoming soupier with smoke and ash. As I turned back up the driveway, I noticed the sky was dotted with what looked like small orange fireflies: Embers were falling around me.
I came back in the house and told my wife, “We have to go, and we have to go now.”
Clayton was able to locate and pull all of his guns from the ashes, though their shooting days are almost assuredly over.
The End Is Nigh
In retrospect, each of these details was an omen in itself and collectively portended something even more horrifying. Nevertheless, when I turned the key in the lock of my front door, it was beyond my wildest imagination it would be for the last time.
When daylight broke, I would learn — along with several thousand of my neighbors — that my home had been taken by flames, along with just about everything I owned.
I’d learn just how ravenous fires truly are. In our case, the Eaton Fire was not a picky eater. It consumed glass, porcelain, wood and drywall in equal measure. It gobbled up sentimental items, like my old driver’s licenses, Christmas ornaments that brought a smile to our faces, and the mugs that held our morning coffee.
And, germane to our shared world in these pages, the Eaton Fire also feasted on several vintage Winchester rifles, crystal-clear optics, golden-era S&W revolvers and all manner of historical memorabilia. Many of these cherished pieces, including my Stevens 520, my Walther KKJ, and my Colt Officer’s Model Match, sharp-eyed readers will remember seeing in previous issues and features.
I’d also add the Eaton Fire happily snacked on all of the tools, supplies, and equipment I’d ever used to keep my guns running, along with any ammo or reloading kit that kept them happily fed. Those are all gone — additional pieces my old life transformed into ash.
But note that I said “most” of what I owned was destroyed. Although my own evacuation orders came far, far too late, I was able to pack up a good portion of my collection. While each of us shooters will likely behave differently when the flames are quite literally headed to our front door, here’s what I decided to take with me …
Fire isn’t a picky eater. Any gun-related kit was also
gobbled up in the catastrophic blaze.
The Rare & Valuable
There are things you can buy in a store tomorrow and things you cannot. I really liked my Ruger M77; I can source another one. By the opposite token, I searched for more than a decade to find an Automag III in the local market. You’d better believe I threw that into a backpack.
My S&W Model 952 was purchased as a college graduation present to myself. I spent what was then a nearly exorbitant amount of money for me because I wanted something I knew would always be more accurate than I was. Twenty years later, this still holds true. It’s a phenomenally accurate firearm.
At the same time, I saved a couple guns tuned by some of the best in the biz. A few weeks after the fire, I sent a note to Mike Heffron at Heffron Precision letting him know his work was well represented among my surviving collection. When I took my first range trip after the fire, I brought along a 2020 Python tuned by Mike to a sweet 2.75-lb. SA pull. I also saved a “Master-Tuned” Colt Diamondback his hands had similarly perfected, along with a SIG P229 worked over by GrayGuns.
I’d also be lying if I told you I didn’t consider financial worth. I saved my Manurhin MR-32, an exquisite French target revolver. It looks good and shoots even better, but the practical part of my brain knew it could sell for quite a sum if I needed to.
Above, some of what was carried out was done so by pure convenience because Clayton managed to fit a lot of small guns into this case. Fire isn’t a picky eater. Any gun-related kit was also gobbled up in the catastrophic blaze.
Choices
I saved a number of guns that just plain brought me joy. High on that list is my S&W Model 41 — I shoot better with this pistol than just about anything else I own. The same goes for my S&W Model 586. It was the very first firearm I purchased with my own money, and there’s no gun I know better inside and out. It has what I would call a glass-smooth “trigger job” produced through nothing other than love and time. Through countless thousands of trigger pulls, the bearing surfaces are perfectly mated and not a burr can be felt in the action. To me, it’s irreplaceable.
Only one 1911 ended up making it out. That was my Springfield TRP, specifically, the Operator model with the bull barrel and the full-lugged rail. I had another few 1911s in the safe, but I was able to save the one that best worked for me and best represented my tastes and preferences as a shooter.
At the same time, there were other rarer or more valuable guns I could have saved than my Beretta 70, but I loved its small form factor and retro-cool elegance. It’s hard to find a mouse gun that shoots well and doesn’t thrash the hands of its user, so it got picked while others got left behind.
Many of his most-special guns, like this S&W 952, were the first items Clayton put into “go bags.”
The Purely Convenient
I’d grabbed my range bag, since it was already loaded up with three handguns that “made the cut” for a previous range trip: My Wilson Combat 92G, an 8 ⅜” S&W Model 17 and my HK USP Expert — a trio that, if I only had those three guns — would still make a lot of shooters envious. Thank heavens they were already in a sack with a handle on it.
Carried out in one load of firearms was a lockbox filled with “plastic fantastic” pistols. Not to ruffle the feathers of my friends at Springfield, my 3″ XD-9 is a fine gun, and a fine tool. However, I’d trade it in a heartbeat to get a few others back that I’ve lost. The XD made it out because it was compact and easily thrown onto an existing pile of guns.
As my military friends say, “ounces make pounds.” It would have required me to make another separate trip back for my H&R Model 12, a gun I termed “The Beast” because of its size and weight. On the other hand, my GLOCK 42 was svelte, thin and light. It joined six other tiny guns in one container.
At this point, readers might note that I’ve been talking mostly about handguns. At the end of the day, that’s what I shoot the most and it was easier to throw more of them into my trunk than my rifles and shotguns — all of which, incidentally, were destroyed by the blaze.
The gun safe in Clayton’s house survived, but everything
inside was destroyed, like this M1 carbine.
What’s Next?
In the aftermath of losing just about everything, I’ve seen some people disappear into a bottomless well of grief. I’ve been fortunate to find myself walking a different path. If I recognize that the clock can’t be turned back, what can I learn from misfortune that can make me stronger?
Many of those insights are well beyond the scope of this story. As far as our mutual interests go, I can offer this — the fire did not claim my love of a good rimfire rifle, the accumulated knowledge of hundreds of thousands of trigger pulls across all manner of guns, or my eternal wonder at how certain objects connect us to times and places that passed long ago.
There’s a lot to be sad about in a time like this, but far more to be thankful for. And what I got out — at least for right now — turns out to be plenty.
