A Family Needs Your Help to Recover from the Palisades Fire
The Palisades Fire destroyed everything we had — leaving our home uninhabitable and our belongings contaminated by toxic smoke and ash. Most of our once-vibrant neighborhood is now rubble, and our entire community has been reduced to ash. Your support will help us with the many expenses that FEMA will not cover, to provide our 5-year-old son with the stability he desperately needs.
My name is Alison Olex, and I’m reaching out with a heavy heart. After two months living in hotels, we finally secured a modest home in Redondo Beach, CA. Although our Malibu apartment wasn’t burned to the ground, it sat at the center of the fire zone — surrounded by flames and engulfed in toxic smoke and extreme heat. The fire came within yards, just across the street. Hurricane-force winds pushed toxic smoke, ash, and embers through gaps in our windows and front door.
Unventilated, the toxic smoke was trapped inside our apartment for over three weeks until the city allowed us back in. Inside, we found extreme lead contamination, hazardous air, and ash settled on every surface. Nearly all of our belongings were unsalvageable. We’ve had to handle the cleanup and aftermath on our own — risking our health in uncharted territory, with no guidelines, support, or regulations.
The emotional toll has been immense — especially as parents of our 5-year-old son, Landon, who lost his home, his preschool, his toys — everything he’s ever known.
While we’re grateful to have a safe place to live, it’s still unfurnished, and we’re struggling to cover even the basics. We’ve drained our savings, having to pay out of pocket for over two months in hotels, daily living expenses without access to a kitchen or laundry, protective gear, toxicity testing, cleanup supplies and services, truck and dumpster rentals, rent and a security deposit on an additional residence, and emergency essentials after evacuating with very little. We’ve been given an estimate that the total cost of recovery could exceed $100,000.
Despite our total loss, we’ve been denied support by multiple relief organizations. The Red Cross and LA County deemed us ineligible for aid because the exterior of our building appeared structurally undamaged when surveyed by crews immediately after the fire.
We've spent months navigating FEMA’s red tape — endless forms, calls, and back-and-forth — only to face the likelihood of minimal aid, because the system isn’t built to handle large-scale disasters with complex situations like ours. Still, 6 months after the fire and hundreds of hours on the phone and filling out paperwork, we have only received $770 from FEMA, which was the initial immediate needs assistance. FEMA provides very little for essential items - each item at a set value - which in most cases is only a small portion of the actual cost of the essential item.
Under normal circumstances, we could lean on our community — but our community is gone, and everyone is in need, leaving us no choice but to turn outward for help.
We humbly ask for your support to:
- Replace the many needed household items that FEMA will not cover.
- Help replace beloved toys and stuffed animals for Landon’s emotional recovery
- Assist with months of needed truck rental expenses that FEMA denied because we chose to use a local business instead of U-Haul (something we learned months after renting)
- The portion of the 2 month+ hotel bills that FEMA will not cover.
- Supplements to safely and effectively remove heavy metals from our bodies from exposure to the fire zone.
- Secure a reliable vehicle for Alison (I had saved for one before the fire, but that savings is now gone)
- Provide Landon an opportunity to attend summer school, as he missed 3 months of schooling this year due to the displacement and loss of his preschool.
- After essentials are covered, I would love to be able to give this older home the needed cosmetic enhancements to create a safe, stable, and warm living environment for our son, to truly make it feel like home - such as fresh paint, color on the walls, family photos, and decor (anything not covered by FEMA)
Any donation — no matter the size — brings us one step closer to rebuilding our lives and giving our son the comfort and stability he desperately needs. If you’re unable to give, sharing this page means the world to us.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. Your support reminds us that even in the darkest moments, there is light in the kindness of others. God bless you.
With love and gratitude,
Alison, Robb, and Landon
**We will continue to share our journey as we work to rebuild, recover, and create a new chapter for our family. If you'd like to see photos or learn more about us and our experience, please scroll below.**
Who We Are:
We are a displaced family, working to rebuild our lives after the Palisades Fire, devastated our community on January 7th, 2025. This record breaking LA urban wildfire destroyed our entire town, including my son’s beloved preschool and church, and much of the neighborhood we’ve called home for eight years. While our apartment miraculously still stands, it’s unlivable. Toxic ash and smoke have rendered everything unsafe, from the walls to our belongings. While we are grateful for the blessing that our apartment wasn’t reduced to ashes, we are heartbroken by the devastating truth that everything left behind has been destroyed in a different way. We are now faced with the overwhelming task of starting over with nothing.
Our home is located off of the PCH on Coastline Drive in Malibu, California, which I shared with my five-year-old son, Landon, and his father, Robb. I am a fashion designer launching a children’s clothing line. That goal - as the savings for it is now gone - are on hold. I grew up in Metro Detroit, and after working as a fashion designer in New York City, I moved to California, where I met Robb while learning how to surf. Robb, a Malibu native, surfer, and artist, works in the film industry as a set dresser. Robb and I have called our Coastline apartment home for over eight years, it's where we brought our son home from the hospital and where Landon has spent his childhood.
The Palisades Fire and Our Daily Life in Pacific Palisades and Malibu:
The morning started like any other, returning to our normal routine and filled with ambition for the new year ahead. I dropped my son, Landon, off at his preschool—his second home. Greeted by the smiles of his loving teachers, Landon was filled with joy and excitement to return from the holidays. The wind was abnormally extreme, and I had bought food and supplies the evening before in anticipation of another power outage due to the high winds and red flag warning. Landon’s dad had just collected and repositioned our neighbors’ garbage bins—full and heavy—yet still flying into our street.
I'll never forget the sinking feeling when I looked outside to check on the bins and saw thick smoke filling the sky, terrifyingly close. I rushed to pick up my son from school, navigating gridlocked streets surrounded by smoke, and was lucky to return home to gather what I could before evacuating. We had to make impossible decisions about what to save, what mattered the most. Besides clothing and shoes, the majority of what I grabbed were sentimental items like my confirmation Bible, my son’s baptism banner, his artwork and baby handprints/footprints, and cherished photographs. Quickly recognizing that what matters most in life has no financial value, I managed to take his baby blankets and favorite stuffed animals, but so much of our life had to be left behind. Now, everything we couldn’t take with us is contaminated by toxic smoke and ash - a painful reminder of what we’ve lost.
Our life on Coastline feels like a distant dream. We used to spend time in our garden, planting hydrangeas, roses, and calla lilies, while Landon played with his toy tools and dump trucks. He loved seeing the garbage trucks and mail carriers we knew by name, we often took walks through our neighborhood, where bountiful flowers lined the streets, and we cherished colorful sunsets on the beach.
Landon's preschool was a place where joy and discovery filled every day. Snow days and carnival events created magical childhood memories, and we trusted the caring staff completely. My son thrived in this community—one I was proud to contribute to by volunteering to photograph events and create lasting yearbooks.
Another immense loss for Landon has been his toys - some of which he was deeply attached to. He was most excited to return home to them when we learned our home was spared, however it turned to heartbreak when almost all were discarded due to smoke damage, toxins, and extreme lead contamination (lead levels exceeded 200 when they should be 0... 10 at most). We tried to salvage what we believe could be safely cleaned - metal and finished wood - but we had to throw away anything fabric, stuffed, papers or plastic - which absorbs toxins and can release harmful VOCs.
Additionally, a pipe burst in our neighbor's apartment, causing significant water damage that spread into our garage and mixed with a large amount of asbestos that fell from the ceiling. The items we had stored along the wall were flooded, and unfortunately, everything in the garage is now a total loss due to asbestos contamination.
This disaster is unlike anything before. This isn’t just a wildfire—it’s an unprecedented urban fire on a massive scale, leaving behind toxic devastation inside homes that are still standing. The contamination inside our apartment is comparable to what was seen after 9/11, filled with hazardous chemicals from burning plastics, metals, and household materials. Our FEMA inspector admitted there has never been a fire like this, and we are the first to face these challenges with no clear path forward.
Photos and Our Journey Navigating the Disaster:
Returning to our apartment for the first time weeks later, in provided hazmat suits, goggles, gloves, and masks, we realized the extent of the damage - it felt like stepping into a nuclear aftermath. The urban wildfire smoke had been trapped in our home for almost three weeks before being allowed to return, creating a toxic environment. Even with a mask on, the air felt heavy and singed my lungs, like a chemical burn. Opening our front door for the first time since the fire, met with heavy toxic air from trapped smoke and ash covered floors and belongings.
The foot bridge at Landon's Preschool, where he loved riding bikes.
The footbridge after the fire reduced Pali Pres Preschool to ashes, leaving many other children without a school to attend:
Our garden that we planted and grew over the years:
Walking up Coastline. The neighborhood was always lively and friendly as many people went on daily walks.
Landon loved playing out front the most with his gardening tools, ride-on dump truck and tractor, which are all destroyed and sitting in a puddle of toxic waste and asbestos from a pipe bursting and the ceiling falling out in the garage. This same hose was used by Robb to help save our home - as I was packing to evacuate, he was hosing down the building and garden.
The Fourth of July celebration at Pacific Palisades included a big parade and a firework show on Palisades high school football field, which made this one of Landon's favorite holidays:
Landon loved decorating outside our home for Halloween!
Halloween in the Pacific Palisades was like none other. Homes were overly decorated and created an amazing trick-or-treating experience that Landon talked about all year.
We loved the beach which was just a walk across the PCH. We would often go during sunsets, or have full beach days in the summer, and built sandcastles all year with what we could find on the beach that day:
We are heartbroken that Landon's preschool, Pali Pres, was reduced to ashes. This was truly a one of a kind school, his second home. We are grateful for the time we did have.
Palisades Fire, a day we will unfortunately never forget.
On the way to pick up Landon from school:
The last photo of our ocean view from our balcony:
Taking a look back at our home while stopping for gas:
01/28/2025 - Photos of garage during FEMA inspection where we learned of the asbestos contamination.
01/29/2025 - A note from Landon's father, Robb, which he shared on Instagram with videos of us on sunset walks along the Palisades Bluffs and Landon in our family room surrounded by toys, gleefully dumping out bins of small cars - I would do anything to be back in our, now, 'old life' and pick up a pile of those toys.
"I can handle losing all my stuff from the Palisades fire, but being a parent and telling your five-year-old son that he can't have any of his toys that he's incredibly attached to because they're all toxic and dangerous just rips my guts out. As he sits in the car and watches his mommy and daddy put on full hazmat suits to walk into our once happy home—now unlivable, unsafe, and toxic—it's heartbreaking.
We just finished his playroom a week before the fires, something he had talked about every day for the last six months. His preschool burned down. He hasn't seen his friends in three weeks. He’s stuck living in hotels. And yet, my son has not whined or complained once. We’ve always loved the Palisades, taking Landon for sunset walks on the Bluffs since he was a baby—it was one of the most beautiful places on earth. He's the glue that holds us all together.
As a parent, I just feel so bad for my son and all the other children who are victims of the fires, and for all the parents going through this awful nightmare. My aching heart goes out to all of you. Keep the faith!" Robb
Photos from his post of us with Landon on the Palisades Bluffs, where we often had sunset walks when Landon was a baby.
02/20/2025 - Landon enjoying the rental truck and the bellhop carts at the hotel:
Upon returning, we were escorted by police past endless army tanks and first responders lining the streets, into what looked like a war zone—our once vibrant neighborhood now a lifeless disaster zone, littered with charred cars, collapsed homes, and empty lots.
03/18/2025: Driving around our neighborhood for the first time, seeing the massive destruction. We were happy to see one house stood surrounded by burned down homes, which belonged to a very nice couple who always stopped and talked to us during our walks.
02/02/2025 - Ash covering our stove.
02/25/2025 - Letting Landon inside for the first time briefly so he could see his toys - we had left the windows open in between visits and the air finally felt better.
04/10/2025: After several cleaning trips, rain and mudslides limiting access... the playroom finally cleared out for the ozone cleaning.
03/23/2025 - Landon always wants to help and do "work", so we had him help with moving items down to be thrown out - started off easy with the suitcase. Some items were very upsetting for him to see being thrown out, he cried half the way back to our new home the day we threw out his toddler potty. (He was ok with these suitcases since we already bought new ones for our trip to see Oma and Papa.)
03/25/2025 - Landon's first day back at his new school
02/22/2025 - Landon's teachers from Pali Pres and some of his classmates reunited for the first time since the fire at Alex's house!
03/31/2025: Nearing the end of several cleaning trips and countless garbage bags full of our belongings we couldn't save. Our last load - no more room on the curb for these one's!
03/31/2025: Only a portion of our belongings along the street, ready to be put into the dumpster rental arriving 2 days later.
Anything we attempted to save had to be aired out, deep-cleaned using special fire restoration techniques, and, in many cases, discarded anyway because the smoke smell remained.
Our poor Christmas tree, still standing months after Christmas - we probably set a record for the latest removal. Criddle - our elf on the shelf was probably terrified, and he couldn't get back to the North Pole this year.
Attempting to clean the toxic ash and embers on the floors and baseboards by our front door.
The location of our home on the fire map.
The red perimeter border lines excluding our apartment building, however if the fire reached any closer it would have burned it down. The hill across the street was scorched, just yards away from our front windows.
Our optimistic outlook when we first learned our home was spared.
Landon looking out of his bedroom window for the last time. So many precious moments throughout his life doing this. I often stood him up on the ledge as a baby and toddler, and he would run to see the garbage trucks, mail carriers, and construction trucks. The view looks so different now that the hill is barren from the removal of what burned.
6/4/25:
Landon wanted to "garden" one last time on one of our last days at the apartment. The generator cords weave up through our garden.
Happy to see our flowers blooming we put so much care into.
6/5/25:
We briefly went down to the beach one last time and it was very obvious that this is no longer safe to be our home. The beach was littered with twisted metal waste washing up from the fire. It was a mix of strong emotions, deep sadness, with the joy of doing something familiar again, even though now, very different.
Leaving our keys, saying goodbye.
After a heartbreaking 5 months, the last few days at Coastline was gut wrenching and full of many tears and gave the walls some laughter to hear as well playing chase around the apartment and hide and seek. As I was asking Landon if there was anything else he wanted to do or say before we left, Landon told me that he didn't want to let go of Coastline. Then he grabbed the kitchen countertop and asked me to pull him away. He held on for a while, almost giving the home a hug. No child should to have to go through all this at such a young age...
Organizer
Alison Olex
Organizer
Malibu, CA