Fire, fire...

When I first moved back to L.A.in July, I found a place in Van Nuys with two other roomies. The place was cool, for the most part, but the neighborhood wasn’t that great. It was fine, so long as you didn’t look at someone the wrong way or flipped someone off in a fit of road rage. I did come out one morning and found a pair of sneakers dangling from the power lines over the front yard, but didn’t think too much of it. Probably just some of the local kids messing around.

Then, one day, I came home from work to find my next door neighbor’s front yard torched. There was a high hedge, about chest -high, that encompassed the house. I suppose a spark from a car or some kid playing with fireworks or matches could have started it, but it seemed too much a coincindence in relation to the strung-up sneakers from a couple weeks previous. The weird thing is, they were hanging in my yard, and I doubt my roomies or I had done anything to cause any sort of a retaliation. And our neighbor, who was about 60 years-old and lived alone and pretty much kept to himself was even less likely to have done anything to instigate such an act.

The photos shows the damage to the neighbors front yard. My place was just to the left of this house and was very similar in appearance, since they were a part of the same complex. You can see how the palm tree was scorched by the flames from the hedge, but never really caught fire. The palm leaves were just partly singed. Thankfully, there was no damage to the house and no one was hurt.