California Burns: A State in Tragedy

By: Elián Zidán

What’s happened in California is nothing short of a tragedy. The pain, despair, and anguish of losing everything resonate deeply, even through the screens of those watching from afar on their phones or televisions.

Despite forecasts predicting potentially deadly winds, no one could have imagined the devastation that would unfold—thousands of acres consumed, along with the homes and livelihoods of countless families.

On Tuesday, during an editorial meeting, we began closely monitoring weather reports warning of dangerous conditions in Los Angeles County. But as the afternoon turned into evening, we couldn’t believe what our colleagues on the ground were showing us.

Just minutes before going live for Univision’s evening newscast (Edición Nocturna), social media flooded with apocalyptic images from across Los Angeles.

Houses were engulfed in flames, and winds—comparable to those of a Category 1 hurricane—fueled the fires, spreading them from home to home. The fire was devouring the equivalent of five football fields per minute. Evacuation orders expanded as the flames spread and new fires erupted.

The destruction didn’t discriminate. In the blink of an eye, neighborhoods of every socioeconomic class—wealthy, middle class, and low-income—were reduced to ashes. And the anguish of losing everything felt the same for all Angelinos.

As the days passed, aerial footage revealed scenes that looked like the aftermath of a bomb. Entire neighborhoods were wiped off the map, reduced to nothing but ash.

And where was the mayor? Returning from an “official” trip to Africa, even though she was well aware of the dire warnings. This wasn’t an earthquake—a sudden and unpredictable disaster that Angelenos are accustomed to facing. This was a catastrophe that had been forecasted. The question on every survivor’s mind is: Why wasn’t anything done to prevent it?

There wasn’t enough water or personnel to tackle the disaster. And when questioned by the press, the mayor chose silence.

Budget cuts had already hit the Fire Department hard, leaving its members overwhelmed. Many firefighters had to battle flames threatening their own homes while trying to protect the community.

Wildfires are not new to Los Angeles; they’re an unfortunate but regular part of life. What’s unacceptable is the lack of preparedness. Material possessions can be replaced, but lives, memories, and the efforts of a lifetime cannot be reduced to a hollow political speech.

It’s time for action. California, a state where residents pay the highest taxes in the nation, has failed its people. It has left them homeless, without answers, and in some cases, mourning loved ones.

This tragedy exposes not just the fragility of our institutions but also the urgent need to rethink our societal priorities. If we fail to learn from this disaster, the cost won’t just be material—it will be human.

California’s future depends on bold, responsible decisions, the kind that feel painfully absent right now.