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Riverside County families who lost homes in the Highland fire find bright spots on Thanksgiving

A man holds a small child as a girl stands with him in the ashes of a gutted building.
Cody McCormick, with daughters Kayla, left, and Allison, survey the charred remnants of their home. They are staying in a borrowed trailer on adjacent property.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
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Cody McCormick surveyed the jumbled piles of ash and rubble strewn across his five-acre property. At his side, his two children, Allison, 4, and Kayla, 6, cried for what they once called home.

Gone were their trampoline and swing set. The trees that once shaded the property and echoed with bird calls now stood in eerie silence, their limbs charred and skeletal.

“Everything’s going to be OK,” McCormick recalls telling his children after the Highland fire swept through in late October, trying to keep a steady voice. “We’re going to get a new house. We’re going to build it up.

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“The Paw Patrol is going to come help us build the house,” he told them, referring to the superhero pups featured in a popular Nickelodeon series and its movie spinoffs.

The evening before Halloween, the family’s lives turned upside down. McCormick and his daughters were among thousands of residents forced to evacuate when wildfire erupted in dry brush in Aguanga, an unincorporated neighborhood in Riverside County. Fueled by dry brush and hot Santa Ana winds, the blaze scorched 2,500 acres and burned for nearly a week before firefighters managed to contain it. At least 20 structures were damaged or destroyed.

A month later, the families affected are still trying to reclaim some sense of normalcy. Many are bunking with friends. Some decided to relocate entirely, moving in with family members in other states.

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A man and two girls who are holding toys in the entrance to a shipping container.
Cody McCormick said he’s moved by the offers of help that have poured in since his family lost their home in the Highland fire. The gifts include bags of toys for his two daughters.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

Still, the McCormicks are among the evacuees who say they have found bright spots in the aftermath.

Cody McCormick said he is struck by the generosity of neighbors and even strangers who have offered cash, repair equipment and words of encouragement. The girls have two giant plastic bags filled with donated toys. And they are taking pleasure in building sand castles in the soot-covered dirt.

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If the fire hadn’t ripped through their neighborhood, McCormick said he’d be gathering his children’s helmets and dirt bikes for a traditional Thanksgiving family ride in the desert. This year, they’re spending the holiday with his brother’s family.

And while their celebration may look and feel different, he’s been reminded to take joy in the simple things.

“I got so much stuff going on in my life, trying to work, watch my kids, do everything, and it’s driving me nuts,” he said. “But I’m getting all these donations from people. I got a lot of nice stuff for the kids people donated for them, so I’ve been really blessed with that.”

George Boyles and his wife, Lucila Gomez Boyles, are also finding light amid the sorrow.

Nestled against 800 acres of government land, George Boyles said his home was the first to catch fire. He tried extinguishing the blaze with a garden hose, but the winds blew the fire into the garage. Soon after, his electricity went out and the water stopped flowing.

He and his wife grabbed some clothes, their seven dogs, a few family mementos and some pictures. The cats had to fend for themselves, he said.

A couple stand amid rubble and ash.
After losing their home in the Highland fire, George and Lucila Boyles have returned to their 10-acre lot, where they will live in a trailer as they rebuild.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
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The couple have been staying with a relative, crowding with their pooches into a 12’ by 12’ bedroom with access to a small yard. But it was a jarring shift from home life on their 10 acres. Boyles was so eager to return to their land, he purchased a 28’ trailer this week, even before the insurance settlement came through. And he sees it as a blessing that, in retirement, they had the means to do so.

“Out of this whole mess, to be honest with you, I see a lot of positive,” Boyles said.

Before their double-wide mobile home burned down, Boyles remembers his wife wanting new carpet. The couple finished paying off their home in April and planned to add new siding and fix the leaky roof.

“On the upside, she gets her new carpet,” he said. “She gets new flooring — she’s getting a whole new house.”

A woman standing in a burned area hugs a cat.
Lucila Boyles lost two cats in the Highland fire. She is grateful that another cat, the family’s dogs and chickens survived.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

The Boyleses usually spend Thanksgiving with family in San Diego County. But this year, with so much repair and rebuilding on tap, they weren’t up for the trip. Instead, they planned to drive to their local Vons and pick up a prepackaged holiday meal. “It’ll be just be my wife and I and the dogs,” he said.

For George Boyles, the next few days will be dedicated to leveling the trailer and building a ramp for their 16-year-old German shepherd, whose hind legs are getting weak. His wife will start decorating their new home, and tend to Amigo, their cat, who survived the fire but whose paws and fur were burned.

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Like McCormick, the Boyleses said they’ve been overwhelmed by all the support they’ve received.

Local knitting groups have invited Lucila to join them, and have given her sewing equipment to help get her back to her hobby. Before flames razed her home, she had lovingly crafted and set aside quilts, pillow cases and potholders that she planned to give family members for Christmas.

“It’s a lot of work,” she said. “The time doesn’t matter, because it’s time for myself, like therapy. But I still feel bad because all of those quilts disappeared in just a few minutes.”

Lucila gets teary if she dwells too long on what happened. She thinks about the flowers that dotted her property and two cats, Little Girl and Sissy, who didn’t make it. She’s thankful her chickens somehow survived in their coop.

“Sometimes I feel like crying,” she said. “Sometimes I say, ‘Well, God knows why this happened to us. Maybe eventually we’re going to be better.’”

A man holding a small child stands with a girl next to the burned hulk of a car.
Thanksgiving will look and feel different for Cody McCormick and his daughters this year. But McCormick says he is reminded to take joy in simple pleasures.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
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McCormick has a similar mindset. He said it helps keep his spirits up when his children tell him they love him. And the whole family is grateful that their pups Koda and Ziba — who went missing in the chaos — were returned home, safe and unharmed.

“I think God did it for a reason sometimes,” he said. “There’s nothing I could do about it. I just gotta move forward.”

In some ways, the holiday will serve as a reprieve for the single dad. For a few days, he’ll be able to set aside the laundry list of tasks he needs to complete to put their lives back together. He’ll indulge in smoked turkey, surrounded by family.

“It’s the only holiday where you get the four-day weekend,” he said. “And it’s just nice to be thankful for things you’ve got.”

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