The Brief

When the Station Fire roared through the Angeles National Forest in 2009, Colleen and Jason Warnesky could see it from the front porch of their Altadena, Calif., home. Eleven years later, the family witnessed the Bobcat Fire from the same spot as it became one of the largest fires in Los Angeles County history.

Their house remained standing after both close calls. So when the Eaton Fire struck more than 3 miles away in January 2025, they were certain they'd again remain unscathed.

"We couldn't imagine how it would get from all the way over there to our house," Colleen Warnesky told NPR, as she pointed to the lush mountains on a recent Sunday afternoon.

Fifteen months later, the couple is pacing around the fenced-in dirt lot that was once the site of their 1,400 sq. foot home. So far the land has been cleared of all toxins, and they're waiting on the city to approve drainage permits before construction workers can start pouring the foundation

The Warneskys are among the dozens of families in the immediate neighborhood who have opted to rebuild with manufactured homes. They were swayed by a local program launched by city-LAB UCLA, a center founded by the University of California, Los Angeles' Architecture and Urban Design Department, which included a showcase of six prefab housing options and a guide to help navigate the process and secure financing.

The spate of wildfires, hurricanes, tornadoes and floods fueled by man-made climate change that have plagued vast swaths of the country in recent years is changing the housing industry. That's because people like the Warneskys, who are seeking to rebuild in disaster-prone regions, are searching for greater peace of mind. As a result, they're turning away from stick-builds and embracing prefabricated homes that are made using materials that are fire-resistant and can withstand extreme weather, and that are now considered standard, and are often more affordable.

Manufacturers are meeting that demand with innovative and safer alternatives. Many companies are designing prefab houses that can withstand category 5 hurricane winds — up to 250 mph — earthquakes, hail storms, massive snowfall and fire. Depending on customizable preferences, prices can vary from below $100 per square foot to over $500 per square foot, excluding land. But even those prices often fall under traditional on-site building costs in many parts of the country.

"We're working with Honomobo, which is one modular company out of Canada. And then the people across the way are working with another company called Bevy House. And then there's a whole set of three families on Harriet that are working with a third modular company," Warnesky said, pointing out various vacant or half-built lots in the neighborhood.

"It was a combination of factors," Warnesky said, explaining why they have opted to forgo a traditional build. After losing everything, and the stress of dealing with the seemingly endless insurance paperwork, they had decision fatigue. The idea of picking something out of a catalog that would arrive fully built seemed like a lifesaver.

"But a big part of it was also safety," Warnesky clarified. She added, "I think that we both felt early on, if there was a way to make it so that we had less to worry about if another fire happened in the future," we'd go with that.

For their own house, which will largely consist of glass, steel and concrete, the Warneskys said they bought a package that is specifically designed for a wildland urban interface environment, known as WUI. These are areas where real estate developments and infrastructure butt up against wildland vegetation.

Jason Warnesky described some of the features of the old, post-WWII-built home. It was modest but comfortable. It had a redwood deck that spanned a big section of the backyard, he said.

"I would suspect that was probably one of the first things that went up on our house," he said.

"We won't do that again," his wife added.

The building prefab business

The Manufactured Housing Institute reports that as of 2024, nearly 21 million people in the U.S. live in manufactured or mobile homes. And manufactured homes made up more than 9% of new home starts in the same year. Meanwhile, consumer prices have remained largely unchanged over the past three years, making them increasingly attractive to first-time buyers.

The same study noted that three U.S.-based companies account for about 83% of the nation's market share. Most of those sales are happening in states with nearly annual flooding, hurricane or wildfire disasters — Texas, Florida and California.

Given the escalating climate risks across the country, Harrison Langley, CEO of MDLR Brands, believes that traditional on-site building is unsustainable. His company has built single-family prefabricated homes, apartment buildings and commercial structures in the Bahamas following 2019's Hurricane Dorian and in California, Tennessee and North Carolina.

"The building materials space is run by dinosaurs," he told NPR. "The way we've been building for the last 100 years really hasn't changed. But the materials have gotten less strong. A two-by-four is no longer two-by-four. It's smaller."

The company offers manufactured kit homes as well as custom-designed projects that are built using composite structural insulated panels. Each one has a 30-minute fire rating, meaning "you could hide behind this wall without the heat coming through for 30 minutes," he explained, adding that the panels can be hardened even further by using a cement board on top of the panels. "That could give you about an hour to get out of a building," Langley added.

Another bonus is that the panels are also more elastic than a wooden frame, making the houses better capable of withstanding earthquakes. And, he said, because the panels have an exterior fiberglass layer, they can stand up to category 5 hurricane winds. (Third-party certifiers test it by shooting a two-by-four traveling at 170 mph, Langley explained.)

According to Langley, America has been on the cusp of embracing modular and prefabricated homes for some time. But, he believes, the growing ubiquity of accessory dwelling units is serving as "proof of concept" for potential clients. "People are used to seeing them now," he said.

Beyond a boxy modular style

For some people, the reluctance to embrace a modular or manufactured build has less to do with costs and more to do with style. Or a perceived absence of it.

Across the street from Colleen and Jason Warnesky are Linda and Liam Mennis. They also lost their 1940s 1,600 sq. ft. home in the Eaton Fire. Initially, they were thinking of going with a traditional stick-build home, but after a discussion with their architect, they learned they could design a customized manufactured home.

"We couldn't do a cookie-cutter house," Mennis told NPR. "We didn't want to pick something from a catalog that would look exactly like somebody else's house."

A home designed by California-based Bevy House. This, nearly 8,000 square foot Malibu project is a partial rebuild, as a large portion of the home was lost in the 2018 Woolsey Fire. It was one of the first homes to receive occupancy post fire.

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Bevy House

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They're now working with Bevy House, whose tag line is, "The conventional home building process is broken. We're the solution." Instead of boxy structures, they take personalized architectural plans and figure out how to make them modular so they can be fabricated at their facilities and put together on site. A majority of the company's builds are installed in California, and they've worked with several fire victims.

Following the destructive 2018 Woolsey Fire in Ventura and Los Angeles counties, they built one of the first homes to receive occupancy post-fire, according to their website. It's a Spanish revival, five-bedroom, seven-bathroom, nearly 8,000-square-foot spread that features custom reclaimed beams. The project was a partial rebuild, as a large portion of the original home was lost in the fire. 

For Mennis and his wife, it was a streamlined process. After finalizing a design plan, he said, Bevy House "makes sure they can break it up into modules" in a 3-D rendering system, and they get started on production.

Prefab's past

The idea of creating aesthetically pleasing and affordable modular homes on a mass scale is not a new one. Seventy-seven years ago, famed architects and furniture designers Ray and Charles Eames, came up with a modernist blueprint for a system composed of inexpensive and off-the-shelf materials from industrial and commercial catalogs that could be easily assembled. Their own iconic home and studio space, Case Study No. 8 house, served as a model of what could be done.

Eames Office has partnered with Spanish office furniture brand, Kettal, to produce a universal modular system that will eventually include the option to build a customized home. The Eames Pavilion was unveiled last week at the Triennale di Milano.

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Salva Lopez

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Eames Demetrios, director of the Eames Office and chairman of the Eames Foundation, has revived his grandparents' dream. Together with Spanish office furniture brand Kettal, Eames Office rolled out the Eames Pavilion system last week at the Triennale di Milano exhibition in Italy. It is a modular, pre-fabricated kit that uses aluminum frames with interchangeable glass, wood, and composite panels. The initial product is only for a single room that can serve as an office or studio space. But by 2027, Demetrios said, it will expand to allow for customizable configurations of single or multi-level dwellings.

"What is wonderful about it is it isn't a copy of the Eames House," Demetrios told NPR. "It's not a facsimile. But it certainly has the spirit of it. And when you look closely, you realize that it's something that is different, which is really trying to create a system out of it."

The kits will be on the pricier side of prefabricated homes, but Demetrios said they intend to keep costs below $500 per square foot. Clients will also have options to swap out materials that may suit the building site better, he added. Because it is a modular system, Demetrios explained, "as innovations happen it is possible to include those in a more dynamic way."

He added: "I'm predicting in about five years we'll have houses that people will almost not be able to tell are from the same system. And I think that that's part of the power of it. And that's part of the opportunity of it."
Copyright 2026 NPR

Early every Saturday for the last three and a half years, William Campbell, 61, leaves his Silver Lake home to be at the Angels Flight station for the first ride at 6:45 a.m.

Campbell is one of a team of operators behind the proverbial wheel of the two near-identical funiculars — named Olivet and Sinai — that go up and down a 33% angle slope from Hill Street to Bunker Hill in downtown Los Angeles.

“You’re a part of living history,” said Campbell, who is dressed in an orange and black waistcoat and bow tie, and wears a bowler hat with a monarch butterfly on top. There’s a reason for that, he said mysteriously.

Angels Flight on Bunker Hill.

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Today, I am the first rider. Soon after, I am joined by a family visiting from Texas.

“I was just looking at a local tourist place, and I just saw this small, cute railway,” said Michael Nguyen, who was alongside his mother and sister. “I was like, oh, this looks interesting. And I saw that you can actually go on it. I was like, OK, that’s pretty dope.”

Masterminded by lawyer, politician and engineer Col. James Ward Eddy, the Angels Flight “hillevator” opened on New Year’s Eve 1901 as a way for people to travel up and down Bunker Hill, which was then the place where the city’s wealthy population lived.

The journey took them down to the streets and stores below and from 1917, Grand Central Market, with the first passengers paying just a penny fare for what was billed as the “shortest railway in America,” traveling just 298 feet.

When he’s not working his weekday full-time day job investigating animal cruelty and abuse, Campbell spends his spare time looking through online newspaper archives for any information about Angels Flight.

Angels Flight Railway.

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Angels Flight Railway.

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Originally located by the 3rd Street Tunnel — at the end of the block from where it is now — the train has been through several changes, as has Bunker Hill itself.

“All the wealthy people moved to Beverly Hills, and Brentwood, and Bel Air, and beyond. And all their wonderful Victorian mansions were turned into boarding houses, and it attracted a lower income, more diverse population, which resulted in blight and crime — at least according to the city,” Campbell said of Bunker Hill's transformation.

City officials authorized Bunker Hill to be all but razed in the 1950s and '60s, and Angels Flight was put into what was promised to be temporary storage for a year or two, despite protests from singer Peggy Lee and others.

The year was 1969. And it took nearly three decades for its return. Angels Flight welcomed passengers again in 1996 to its current location after test runs were made with cases of beer and soft drinks weighing 9,000 pounds. The cable cars were rebuilt exactly as before, but with modern safety requirements, such as Sinai having wheelchair space.

A 2001 accident in which one person died and seven were injured saw another long closure until 2010, and there was a derailment in 2014, which saw another short shuttering. But Angels Flight has been running ever since 2017, save the odd mechanical problem.

William Campbell.

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Angels Flight keepsakes made by William Campbell for riders to take.

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Campbell describes himself as a cheerleader for Angels Flight, and you can easily see why. During his shift he pins up a 1904 photo of the city’s landscape taken from an 80-foot-high observation tower at the original location, so people can compare it to the skyscraper skyline of today.

“At one time you could see all the way to Catalina,” he noted.

There is also a display about near-forgotten Bunker Hill folk artist Marcel Cavalla, and Campbell gives away Angels Flight bookmarks, stickers and maps, all of which he researches, designs and prints out of his own pocket.

One of his projects, old advertisements from 1901 to the 1940s, is displayed in the panels above the seats, and was installed a couple of months ago.

Interior of Angels Flight, showcasing old advertisements from 1901 to the 1940s that Campbell installed.

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One of the vintage ads for Catalina Carrier-Pigeon Service.

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There's everything from old Market Basket supermarket ads, to Barbara Stanwyck shilling for Lux toilet soap, to a standard power mower from John Bean manufacturing, to one for the Catalina Carrier Pigeon Service, which operated from 1894 to 1902, taking messages from Avalon to Bunker Hill.

And the monarch butterfly on his hat? That’s related to his Angels Flight “holy grail,” the one question he can’t definitively answer: why were they painted orange and black?

With that, Campbell grabs his binoculars and sees there are passengers waiting for a ride up, so I get into Olivet and wave goodbye as I travel down to Hill Street.

A group called Neighbors Helping Neighbors has been clearing overgrown weeds for free on fire survivors' empty lots in Altadena.

They’ve finished 10 with many more to go. They’re keeping at it not just to keep things tidy, but to avert another disaster as the region enters fire season — and their efforts are spreading. More than 200 homeowners have signed up, after hearing about the group from its Facebook page and through word of mouth.

“I'm 5 feet 2 inches tall, but there were weeds 6 and 8 feet tall,” said Antoinette “Toni” Bailey-Raines, the ringleader. She is also a co-founder of Altadena Talks Foundation, a nonprofit started in the wake of the Eaton Fire.

Bailey-Raines lives in San Dimas but grew up in Altadena. Her parents and sister all lost their homes in the Eaton Fire.

“I went to my parents' lot one day,” she said. “I loaded up the back of my car with my lawnmower, my blower, my rake, because I wanted to make sure their lot was cleaned up.”

It took seven hours, but she figured all that overgrown vegetation can't be good for Altadena with the fire season just around the corner.

And just like that, the idea for Neighbors Helping Neighbors was born.

Preventing another disaster

Antoinette “Toni” Bailey-Raines, founder of Neighbors Helping Neighbors.

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Antoinette “Toni” Bailey-Raines at one of the cleared lots.

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The very first lot, just south in Pasadena, was cleared in mid-April. Bailey-Raines said the property was getting notices from the city to clear the lot or face escalating fines. Pasadena conducts brush clearance inspections every spring and summer.

Toni said the family had moved to Mississippi after the Eaton Fire.

“You lost everything, and then somebody's gonna tell you they're gonna give you a fine because you have weeds on your lot and you're not even here to see that?” Bailey-Raines said.

That day, she rounded up a group of nine people, including her son and his friend. A neighbor across the street was suspicious at first, but eventually told her, "You have me for about an hour." He stayed for two.

The job took less than four hours.

A growing movement

On May 13, dozens of volunteers showed up in Altadena to clear seven lots in one morning.

One of them — a 14,000-square-foot lot — belongs to Sarkis Aleksanian and his family. He had reached out to Bailey-Raines in late April, after learning about the group from a neighborhood WhatsApp chat.

“I was looking into cleaning up the lot and really daunted by the prospect,” he said. “I was worried that the lawn would dry up and be a problem.”

Aleksanian and his wife were on hand to help out. It’s the one thing that Bailey-Raines requires — for the homeowners to be there.

“I've asked them that if they're able-bodied to be here and help,” she said. “You're here. You're encouraging people, and you're helping on your lot. [Sarkis] was doing everything from weed-eater, to chainsaw, to whatever, and that's what it's about.”

This 14,000-square-foot lot in Altadena was cleaned up in less than two hours on a recently Saturday.

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“It was just remarkable, I tell you,” Aleksanian said. He said he recognized some of the volunteers that morning — folks he sees in the community.

And he did encounter someone he knew — a high school acquaintance from years back. “It's neighbors helping neighbors, just like she called it, you know?” Aleksanian said.

His lot was finished in 90 minutes.

More is needed

With a growing waitlist, what is needed are people and equipment — from gloves and trash bags to the hardware.

“I have six brush cutters and two chainsaws and a couple trimmers, but I need, like, triple that at least,” she said.

Same goes for rechargeable batteries that power these tools — which Bailey-Raines juices up with generators they bring on-site.

A number of organizations — including Neighborhood Survants, Altagether, Project Passion, My Tribe Rise, Dena Heals — have granted money and donated equipment and manpower. Bailey-Raines has also put in her own money.

“My dream is one Saturday morning to have 500 people and that we clear a whole street, a whole block — so that this list of 200 can go down, and as others hear about it, they get on it, and we as a community do this as neighbors to help one another,” she said.

After fires and floods, Southern California’s only remaining native freshwater turtle recently got a boost.

Just last month, 15 southwestern pond turtle hatchlings were released into the San Gabriel River — a major milestone in an effort to restore the vulnerable turtle population.

But this wasn’t a typical raise-and-release scenario.

These turtles’ parents went on a harrowing journey before they were born.

A daring rescue

In early September 2020, amid a heat wave and dry weather, a tree branch hit a Southern California Edison power line, igniting the Bobcat Fire.

The fire eventually scorched more than 180 square miles — mostly forest in the San Gabriel Mountains. For comparison, the 2025 Eaton Fire burned about 22 square miles.

Lights from a fire truck illuminate firefighters working the Bobcat Fire in September 2021.

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As the Bobcat Fire spread, biologists grew worried. The fire was burning in the West Fork of the San Gabriel River, a biodiversity hotspot and refuge for bears and mountain lions, the federally protected Santa Ana sucker fish and the mountain yellow-legged frog.

It’s also home to the largest remaining — and possibly only — population of southwestern pond turtles in the entire watershed. Their exact numbers aren’t known, but it’s likely less than 200.

“Because this hadn’t burned in decades and decades and decades, there was big concern about debris flows,” said Robert Fisher, a biologist with the U.S. Geological Survey.

Scientists hoped the turtles would be able to ride out the fire itself by staying in the water, but any rain after would likely lead to a deluge of mud, trees and other burned materials. That would be akin to an avalanche for the turtles in the river, and it had the potential to wipe out the entire population.

Once the flames died down, Fisher and a team of biologists, in partnership with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife and U.S. Forest Service, trekked to the home of the pond turtles.

“It was a moonscape,” Fisher said.

They waded through ashy, murky waters, eventually collecting 11 adult turtles.

A temporary home and 15 surprises

The turtles were taken to the San Diego Zoo, where the plan was to hold them until their mountain habitat recovered enough for them to return.

By 2024, the San Gabriel Mountains were looking far better — biologists even found some pond turtles that survived major debris flows.

But right before the turtles were set to go back home, scientists got a surprise.

“Just before we were getting to release, we found a baby turtle, which is amazing,” said Brandon Scott, wildlife care manager of herpetology and ichthyology at San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance. “You don't know how long it's going to take to restart that process of them actually being able to breed, with the stress and it's a new habitat.”

A juvenile southwestern pond turtle is weighed before being released to the wild.

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The turtles and the new baby were all returned to their home in the San Gabriels. But then came another surprise. And another.

“We just continually, every day, started finding a baby in that habitat,” said Scott.

Female southwestern pond turtles lay and bury their eggs in late spring or early summer. Juveniles emerge months later, only about the size of a quarter.

Fifteen babies later, conservation staff were shocked and pleased.

Their goal for the 11 rescued turtles was to make sure they could thrive before being released back into their habitat. “But in the process,” Scott said, “yes, we made it comfortable enough for them to breed.”

A hopeful release

The new generation of southwestern pond turtles was released in April near the spot their parents were rescued from in the San Gabriel River.

Such rescues of vulnerable wildlife are becoming increasingly common in the face of more catastrophic fires. All but two of the biggest fires in recorded history have been in the last 20 years.

Fisher said a similar rescue of pond turtles had occurred only once before, after the 2009 Station Fire in the San Gabriels. That time, the turtles were quickly returned to their habitat.

A staff member of the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance releases a juvenile southwestern pond turtle into the San Gabriel River.

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That rescue, in part, inspired the U.S. Geological Survey to work with the San Diego Zoo to build a conservation habitat for southwestern pond turtles nearly two decades ago. And the Bobcat Fire became the first time it was used for wild rescues, Fisher said.

Ironically, the Bobcat Fire could eventually help the local population, Fisher said.

“We’ve known about [the population] for decades, but it’s not really thriving,” he said. “So this helped give it a head start. And because the fire was so intense, it opened up a lot of habitat.”

With less tree canopy and more sunlight, the cold-blooded reptiles could thrive in warmer waters and on sunnier rocks.

But the new generation is key.

“Because the site was so forested and hadn’t burned in so long, we don’t think they were having good success at breeding,” Fisher said. “Now we think we’ve really enhanced the population by putting more animals out there, especially young animals.”

Scott and Fisher said the saga has inspired preliminary conversations about formalizing breeding efforts to support the population. The little turtles' myriad threats have yet to let up, so they’ll likely need more help in the future.

But at the moment, there’s a little more hope — at least 16 hatchlings and 11 adults' worth of hope, to be exact — for California’s only native freshwater turtle.