Arden Seretean Shares Three Stories From Community Members on Their Experience Since the Palisades Fire
By ARDEN SERETEAN | Intern
When the Palisades fire swept through the community, it left behind more than just burned buildings—it revealed what it means to start over. Some residents lost their homes, others their businesses and, for most, their treasured memories. In recent months, I have been documenting some of these stories to give voice to what was lost.
My name is Arden Seretean, and Pacific Palisades has been my home my entire life. It’s where I walk my dogs every evening, take dance classes, perform for the community, make documentaries, write poetry, participate in the 4th of July parade and watch the fireworks from Pali High’s field.
The Palisades holds a special place in my heart, and losing parts of it to the fires has only strengthened my commitment to telling its story. Having documented this place my whole life, I felt an even stronger desire to capture this moment in history for the Palisadian-Post that encapsulates not just the destruction, but also the connection, strength and love that define the Palisades.
“Finding Our Footing”
Emily Kay Tillman
Owner/Director of Fancy Feet Dance Studio
Emily Kay Tillman, a longtime community member and owner/director of Fancy Feet Dance Studio, has dedicated decades to bringing joy, passion and a sense of family to generations of local dancers. She has lived in the Palisades since she was 2 years old.
Grateful that her condominium still stands, Tillman described this phase of life as starting over—for her, moving forward means looking back and letting go of what was lost to the debris.
Tillman’s dance studio, which she had owned since she was 18, was destroyed in the fires. Five days after the fire started, she was able to enter through the terrace level at 881 Alma Real Drive. She described the experience as overwhelming.
When she reached her office, she said she found the space torn open. She grabbed whatever she could carry, but faced the loss of 33 years of work.
The studio was dark, filled with debris, and water was dripping from the ceiling. What hurt most, she said, was seeing her bookshelf of photo albums and memories scattered on the floor. Many were burned, others water damaged.
“When I tried to pick them up, the pages just fell apart,” Tillman said. “That’s when I lost it and left.”
Three weeks later, she returned, but the rains had caused more damage and parts of the building were collapsing. Michael, her husband, told her it was too dangerous to go inside.
Her best friend and office manager, Patty Isas, managed to visit the site before the heavy rains and salvaged a few irreplaceable photos from the wall—a gift Tillman believed she would never get back.
Now, her memories of the Palisades—from her involvement with the Palisadian-Post to her crown as Miss Palisades—are stored in a single storage bin.
“Growing up in the Palisades and then having a business there for 33 years, being a part of so many parades and events, dancing for the Optimist Club, and now it’s all gone, creates a feeling of loss no words can describe,” she said. “Nothing prepares you for this.”
Tillman reopened Fancy Feet in Santa Monica on February 24 after it was built by TMC Contractors in 11 days. Inside, she has recreated familiar touches for her Fancy Feet family, including painting the walls the same baby blue and displaying programs from dance recitals over the past 30 years.
She was able to save the sign from above the original studio door—its edges burned and charred, but saved.
“The most important thing is that we still have each other and the community,” she said. “Everyone is just happy to be together.”
Her advice moving forward is simple: “Everybody needs to be patient with themselves and patient with one another. The community bond we have is so strong, and the love that is shared is very real. That’s the only way to get through—lean on the people who support you and understand what you’re going through.”
Tillman said she believes the Palisades will return, rebuilt by those who love it and make it special.
“A Silver Lining”
The Peterson Family
During the Palisades fires, Ryan Peterson was miles away at University of Chicago. He said his parents’ call was brief but heartbreaking—their home was destroyed.
“It’s surreal,” Ryan said. “The house I grew up in, everything—just gone.”
Ryan’s books and clothes remained safe in his dorm, but personal belongings were lost.
Bruce Peterson, Ryan’s father, was present that day. He said he remembers evacuating with passports and essentials, leaving much behind.
“There are things we’ll never get back,” Bruce said.
The family relocated, beginning the process of insurance claims and rebuilding. Bruce, a longtime member of Palisades Lutheran Church, focused on helping others affected. Ryan took a leave from college to support his family.
They said the fire has shifted their view of possessions.
“You realize material stuff isn’t that important,” Bruce reflected. “It’s your family that matters. But certain items—letters, yearbooks—you miss deeply.”
For Bruce’s wife, who had lived in the Palisades for decades, clearing debris was especially painful.
“For her, it was heartbreaking,” he said.
Now, the family is planning to rebuild.
“It’s the silver lining,” Bruce explained. “We can fix things and add what we’ve always wanted.”
His advice to anyone facing evacuation: “Take as much as you can, even if you think you’ll be fine.”
Despite the loss, Bruce said he remains optimistic about the community’s future.
“This is a great community,” he said. “People find ways to rebuild love, no matter where they are.”
“Not Just Service—It’s Humanity”
Photo courtesy of James Kwon
Lita Mustika, Manager of Palisades Garden Cafe
On the morning of January 7, Palisades Garden Cafe was already busy. Manager Lita Mustika, who has worked there for 10 years, was on duty when a customer mentioned a nearby fire after 10 a.m.
“We thought it was just a small brush fire,” Mustika recalled. “We went back to work.”
By early afternoon, smoke filled the sky. At 1 p.m., emergency alerts ordered evacuations. By 2 p.m., the cafe was empty.
For months, the Garden Cafe remained closed due to National Guard checkpoints.
“Nobody could sleep,” Mustika said. “We texted each other late at night, checking in.”
Owner James Kwon tried repeatedly to see the building and confirm whether it had survived, but was turned away. The only image he saw was from the cafe’s security camera, showing flames engulfing the area.
Days later, a photo from Seven Arrows confirmed the cafe was still standing.
“When we realized we’d survived, it was emotional,” Mustika said. “But we still didn’t know our condition or when we could return.”
When Los Angeles Department of Water and Power reopened the area, there were unlocked doors and a return of customers. The first visitors were not the regular crowds but fire management crews: U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, Coast Guard personnel, demolition crews, subcontractors, DWP teams.
“It was the first time in months we saw each other again,” Mustika said when the staff reunited. “Most of us came back. We resumed where we left off.”
Today, Palisades Garden Cafe is among the few businesses operating in the Palisades. Customers come from Santa Monica, Marina del Rey and even Orange County—former locals supporting the cafe.
Mustika said their motivation comes from love for the cafe and its community.
“We cry with customers,” she said. “Some lost their homes. Some are rebuilding and uncertain about when they’ll return. We want to be here for everyone. It’s not just service—it’s humanity.”
She said she believes the Palisades will never be the same, but can feel familiar again.
“Once we rebuild, I believe it will be stronger,” Mustika said.
Her message to residents is simple: “Whether you’re from here, once lived here or just work here, we want you to feel comfortable when you walk inside. Yes, much has changed outside, but here, it’s still the same.”
This series will continue in a future edition of the Palisadian-Post with Seretean’s first-hand account of the Palisades fire and ensuing debris removal process at her home.
