Alan Tudyk was nearly 50 when he scored his first starring role in a TV series as the titular extraterrestrial Harry Vanderspeigle in Syfy’s “Resident Alien.” It’s not that he was underemployed or little known — he’s been celebrated in genre circles since “Firefly,” the 2002 single-season western-themed space opera in which he played the sweet, comical pilot of a spaceship captained by smuggler Mal, played by Nathan Fillion, with whom he has since been linked in the interested public mind, like Hope and Crosby, or Fey and Poehler. His own 2015 web series “Con Man” (currently available on Prime Video), based on his experiences at sci-fi conventions, in which he and Fillion play inverted versions of themselves, was funded by an enormously successful crowd-sourced campaign, which raised $3,156,178 from 46,992 backers; clearly the people love him.
You can’t exactly call “Resident Alien” career-making, given how much Tudyk has worked, going back to onscreen roles in the late 20th century and on stage in New York, but it has made him especially visible over a long period in a marvelous show in a part for which he seems to have been fashioned. He has, indeed, often been invisible, with a parallel career as a voice artist, beginning with small parts in “Ice Age” in 2002; since channeling Ed Wynn for King Candy in Disney’s 2012 “Wreck-It Ralph” (which won him an Annie Award), the studio has used him regularly, like a good luck charm. You can hear him in “Frozen” (Duke of Weselton), “Big Hero 6” (Alistair Krei), “Zootopia” (Duke Weaselton), “Moana” (Hei Hei), “Encanto” (Pico) and “Wish” (Valentino). He played the Joker on “Harley Quinn” and voices Optimus Prime in “Transformers: EarthSpark.” Performing motion capture and voice-over, he was Sonny the emotional android in “I, Robot” and the dry droid K-2SO in both “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story,” and again in “Andor.” (He’s a robot again in the new “Superman” film.) This is a partial, one could even say fractional, list. Among animation and sci-fi fans, being the well-informed sorts they are, Tudyk is known and honored for this body of work as well.
Alan Tudyk at his home in Los Angeles last year. The actor has been in a variety of roles onscreen, on stage and as a voice actor.
(Ethan Benavidez / For The Times)
“Resident Alien,” whose fourth season is underway on Syfy, USA and Peacock (earlier seasons are available on Netflix, which has raised the show’s profile considerably), is a small town comedy with apocalyptic overtones. It sees Tudyk’s alien, whose natural form is of a giant, big-eyed, noseless humanoid with octopus DNA, imperfectly disguised as the new local doctor, whom he kills in the first episode. (We will learn that the doctor was, in fact, an assassin, which makes it sort of … all right?) Learning English from reruns of “Law & Order,” the being now called Harry will preposterously succeed in his masquerade, and in doing so, join a community that will ultimately improve him. (By local standards, at least.) It’s a fish way, way out of water story, with the difference that the fish has been sent to kill all the Earth fish — I am being metaphorical, he isn’t actually out to kill fish — although he is now working to save them from a different, nastier race of alien.
Some actors play their first part and suddenly their name is everywhere; others slide into public consciousness slowly, through a side door — which may lead, after all, to a longer, more varied career. Tudyk has the quality of having arrived, despite having been there all along. Like many actors with a long CV, he might surprise you, turning up on old episodes of “Strangers With Candy,” “Frasier,” “Arrested Development” or “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation,” or repeatedly crying “Cramped!” in a scene from “Patch Adams,” or in the movies “Wonder Boys,” “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Tale” or “3:10 to Yuma.” You might say to yourself, or the person you’re watching with, “Hey, that’s Alan Tudyk.” (You might add, “He hasn’t aged a bit.”) It was “Suburgatory,” an underloved ABC sitcom from 2011, though not underloved by me, where he played the confused best friend of star Jeremy Sisto, that, combined with “Firefly,” cemented Tudyk in my mind as someone I would always be happy to see.
He’s handsome in a pleasant, ordinary way. If he’s not exactly Hollywood’s idea of a leading man, it only points up the limitations of that concept. His eyes are maybe a trifle close set, his lips a little thin. There’s a softness to him that feeds into or productively contrasts with his characters, depending on where they fall on the good-bad or calm-hysterical scales. (In the current season of “Resident Alien,” a shape-shifting giant praying mantis has taken over Harry’s human identity, and this evil twin performance, which somehow fools Harry’s friends, is as frightening as the fact that the mantis eats people’s heads.) It makes his robots relatable and roots his more flamboyant characters, like Mr. Nowhere, the villain in the first season of “Doom Patrol” — who comments on the series from outside the fourth wall, inhabiting a white void where he might be discovered sitting on a toilet and reading a review of the show he’s in — in something like naturalism.
Sara Tomko and Alan Tudyk in a scene from Season 4 of “Resident Alien.”
(USA Network / James Dittiger / USA Network)
As Harry, Tudyk is never really calm. Relaxed neither in voice nor body, he tucks his lips inside his mouth and stretches it into a variety of blobby shapes. The actor can seem to be puppeteering his own expressions, which, in a way Harry is, or splitting the difference between a real person and an animated cartoon, in the Chuck Jones/Tex Avery sense of the term, which is not to say Tudyk overplays; he just hits the right note of exaggeration. Harry often has the air of being impatient to leave a scene and get on with whatever business he’s decided is important.
Though he’s given to explosive bursts of speech, as the character has developed, the humor he plays becomes more subtle and quiet, peppered with muttered comments and sotto voce asides he means to be heard. He is, as he likes to point out, the smartest and most powerful being around, but he has the emotional maturity of a child. At one point, having lost his alien powers, Harry was willing to sacrifice the entirety of his species to get them back.
Where once he had no emotions, now he is full of them. Last season, he was given a romance, with Heather (Edi Patterson), a bird person from outer space, which has continued into the current run; he is also a father, with a great affection — anomalous in his species — for his son, Bridget, an adorably fearsome little green creature. And he loves pie.
And that Tudyk himself seems genuinely nice — there are interviews with him up and down YouTube, and my friend David, who worked on “Firefly,” called him “kind, grateful and curious” — makes him easy to like, however likable a person he’s playing. That possibly shouldn’t matter when assessing an actor’s art, but it does anyway.
Musician Dennis Henriquez woke up in a doorway in East Hollywood last month, hidden behind cardboard and sheltered by a tarp.
When he peered outside, half a dozen sanitation workers were standing nearby, waiting to carry out one of the more than 30 homeless encampment cleanups planned that day by the city of Los Angeles.
Henriquez eventually emerged, carried out a bicycle and deposited it on a grassy area 20 feet away. He also dragged over a backpack, a scooter, two guitars, a piece of luggage and a beach chair.
The city sanitation crew grabbed the tarp and the cardboard, tossing them into a trash truck. Then, the contingent of city workers, including two police officers, climbed into their vehicles and drove away, leaving behind Henriquez and his pile of belongings.
This type of operation, known as a CARE-plus cleanup, plays out hundreds of times each week in the city, with sanitation crews seizing and destroying tents, tarps, pallets, shopping carts and many other objects.
The cleanups have emerged as a huge source of conflict in a five-year-old legal dispute over the city’s handling of the homelessness crisis. Depending on how the cleanup issue is resolved, the city could face legal sanctions, millions of dollars in penalties or increased outside oversight of its homeless programs.
A construction loader plows through the remains of a homeless encampment on Wilshire Boulevard, just west of downtown.
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
Sanitation crews grab a mattress during the cleanup. (Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
A notice about the cleanup is displayed on a utility pole on Wilshire Boulevard. (Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
In 2022, city leaders reached a legal settlement with the nonprofit L.A. Alliance for Human Rights, promising to create 12,915 homeless beds or other housing opportunities by June 2027. Eventually, they also agreed to remove 9,800 homeless encampments by June 2026 — with an encampment defined as an individual tent, makeshift structure, car or recreational vehicle.
To reach the latter goal, city leaders have been counting each encampment removed from streets, sidewalks and alleys during the Bureau of Sanitation’s CARE-plus cleanups — even in cases where the resident did not obtain housing or a shelter bed.
The alliance has strongly objected to the city’s methodology, arguing that destroying a tent, without housing its occupants, runs afoul of the 2022 settlement agreement. Any “encampment resolution” tallied by the city must be more permanent — and address the larger goal of reducing homelessness, said Elizabeth Mitchell, an attorney for the alliance.
“If the person insists on staying where they are and nothing else has happened, that’s not a resolution,” she said. “They can’t count that.”
City leaders have carried out CARE-plus cleanups for years, saying they are needed to protect public safety and restore sidewalk access for wheelchair users, the elderly and others. Some encampments are strewn with debris that spills across an entire walkway or out into the street, while others carry the smell of urine, fecal matter or decaying food waste.
The cleanups have a Sisyphean quality. Many seasoned residents drag their tents across the street, wait out the cleanup, then return to their original spots in the afternoon. The process frequently restarts a week or two later.
The alliance’s legal team, alarmed by the inclusion of CARE-plus cleanups in the encampment reduction count, recently spent several days trying to persuade a federal judge to seize control of the city’s homelessness initiatives from Mayor Karen Bass and the City Council and turn them over to a third-party receiver.
U.S. Dist. Judge David O. Carter, who presides over the case, declined to take that step, saying it went too far. But he has made clear that he, too, objects to the city’s approach to eliminating the 9,800 encampments.
In March, Carter issued a court order saying the city may not count CARE-plus cleanups toward its goal because, as the alliance had argued, they are “not permanent in nature.”
Last month, in a 62-page ruling, he found the city had “willfully disobeyed” that order — and had improperly reported its encampment reductions. Clarifying his position somewhat, the judge also said that the city cannot count an encampment reduction unless it is “accompanied by an offer of shelter or housing.”
“Individuals need not accept the offer, but an offer of available shelter or housing must be made,” he wrote.
Attorney Shayla Myers, who represents homeless advocacy groups that have intervened in the case, has opposed the 9,800 goal from the beginning, saying it creates a quota system that increases the likelihood that city workers will violate the property rights of unhoused residents.
“Throwing away tents doesn’t help the homelessness crisis,” she said. “Building housing does.”
Shayna, a person experiencing homelessness, moves things out of a tent during the June 24 encampment cleanup.
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
City Administrative Officer Matt Szabo, who helped negotiate the settlement, told the court last month that his office does not count the tents that homeless people move temporarily — around the corner or across the street — during city cleanups. However, the city does include those that are permanently removed because they block the sidewalk or pose a public health or safety threat, he said.
Szabo, during his testimony, said that when he negotiated the promise to remove 9,800 encampments, he did not expect that every tent removal would lead to someone moving inside.
The city is already working to fulfill the alliance agreement’s requirement of creating 12,915 homeless beds or other housing opportunities. On top of that, Szabo said, encampment residents have “free will” to refuse an offer of housing.
“I wouldn’t ever agree that the city would be obligated to somehow force people to accept [housing] if they did not want to accept it,” he said. “We never would have agreed to that. We didn’t agree to that.”
For an outside observer, it might be difficult to discern what the different types of city encampment operations are designed to accomplish.
Mary, a person experiencing homelessness, speaks with a police officer during the June 24 cleanup.
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
Bass’ Inside Safe initiative moves homeless people into hotel and motel rooms, and at least in some cases, permanent housing. By contrast, CARE cleanups — shorthand for Cleanup and Rapid Engagement — are largely focused on trash removal, with crews hauling away debris from curbs and surrounding areas.
CARE-plus cleanups are more comprehensive. Every tent must be moved so workers can haul away debris and, in some instances, powerwash sidewalks.
Sanitation crews are supposed to give residents advance warning of a scheduled CARE-plus cleanup, posting notices on utility poles. If residents don’t relocate their tents and other belongings, they run the risk of having them taken away.
In some cases, cleanup crews take the possessions to a downtown storage facility. In many others, they are tossed.
A construction loader transports the remnants of the Westlake encampment to a city garbage truck.
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
One of the largest CARE-plus cleanups in recent weeks took place in the Westlake district, where nearly three dozen tents and structures lined a stretch of Wilshire Boulevard. A construction loader drove back and forth on the sidewalk, scooping up tents and depositing them in a trash truck.
Ryan Cranford, 42, said he didn’t know the cleanup was scheduled until minutes beforehand. He wound up losing his tent, a bed and a canopy, but managed to keep his backpack, saying it contained “all that matters.”
Sitting on a nearby retaining wall, Cranford said he would have accepted a motel room had someone offered one.
“Hell, I’d even take a bus to get all the way back to Oklahoma if I could,” he said.
On the opposite side of the street, Tyson Lewis Angeles wheeled his belongings down the street in a shopping cart before sanitation workers descended on his spot. He said an outreach worker had given him a referral for a shelter bed the day before.
Tyson Lewis Angeles, a person experiencing homelessness, holds his dog, Nami, before city sanitation workers descended on his spot on Wilshire Boulevard.
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
Angeles, 30, said he was not interested, in part because he deals with panic attacks, PTSD and other mental health issues. He also does not want a roommate, or the rules imposed by homeless shelters.
“Basically, it’s like volunteer jail,” he said.
While Angeles managed to safeguard his possessions, others are frequently less successful.
Nicholas Johnson, who is living in a box truck in Silver Lake, said city crews took the vast majority of his belongings during a CARE-plus cleanup in mid-June. Some were destroyed, while others were transported by sanitation workers to a downtown storage facility, he said.
Johnson, 56, said he does not know whether some of his most prized possessions, including letters written by his grandmother, went into that facility or were tossed. City crews also took books, tools, his Buddhist prayer bowls and a huge amount of clothes.
“All of my clothing — all of my clothing — the wearables and the sellables, all mixed in. Hats, scarves, socks, ties, a lot of accessories that I wear — you know, double breasted suits from the ’30s, the suit pants,” he said.
Nicholas Johnson, who lives with his dog, Popcorn, in a truck parked in Silver Lake, said the city took many of his prized possessions during a recent encampment cleanup.
(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)
Johnson said the city’s cleanup process is a “harassment ceremony” that only makes life more stressful for people on the street.
“They hit you in the kneecaps when they know you’re already down,” he said.
Earlier this year, city officials informed the court that they had removed about 6,100 tents, makeshift shelters and vehicles — nearly two-thirds of what the agreement with the alliance requires. Whether the city will challenge any portion of the judge’s ruling is still unclear.
In a statement, a lawyer for the city contends that the ruling “misconstrues the city’s obligations.”
“We are keeping open our options for next steps,” said the lawyer, Theane Evangelis.
Citing a recent arrest by immigration agents that bloodied a man in the unincorporated area of Valinda, Los Angeles County Supervisor Hilda Solis said she wants the county to explore a legal counterattack against what she described as the federal government’s “unconstitutional immigration enforcement practices.”
In a statement Saturday, Solis said that she plans to co-sponsor a motion at Tuesday’s Board of Supervisors meeting asking the county’s attorney to explore “all legal remedies available to the County to protect the civil rights of our residents and prevent federal law enforcement personnel from engaging in any unconstitutional or unlawful immigration enforcement.”
Such conduct, the motion says, includes the “unlawfully stopping, questioning or detaining individuals without reasonable suspicion, or arresting individuals without probable cause or a valid warrant.”
“As these immigration raids continue to terrorize our communities, I’m deeply disturbed by the forceful detainment of a man in unincorporated Valinda. This incident raises serious concerns about the conduct and legality of these actions, and demonstrates a violation of constitutional rights and due process,” Solis, whose district stretches from Eagle Rock to Pomona, said in a statement.
The Trump administration’s ongoing crackdown on undocumented immigrants, the motion says, has sown widespread fear throughout the region and emptied out normally bustling public spaces, with people “avoiding going to work or visiting grocery stores and restaurants, skipping medical appointments.”
This has had a “tremendous negative impact” on not only the county’s economy, but also its “ability to provide for the health and welfare of our residents,” according to the motion.
The L.A. City Council introduced a similar motion earlier this month seeking to prohibit federal agents from carrying out unconstitutional stops, searches or arrests of city residents.
Federal officials have said their agents are defending themselves against increasingly hostile crowds, which in some cases are interfering with arrests.
Top officials, such as Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, have argued that the government’s raids are targeting “criminals that have been out on our street far too long.” A recent Times analysis suggested that the majority of those who were arrested in early June were not convicted criminals, however.
For weeks, social media has been flooded with videos of federal agents, their faces often shrouded by masks, violently arresting bystanders who are filming their actions, dragging a taco stand vendor by her arm and tossing smoke bombs into a crowd of angry onlookers. One widely circulated clip showed a military-style vehicle accompanying federal law enforcement officers during an apparent raid at a home in Compton earlier this month — part of what critics have called an alarming escalation in tactics.
Footage reviewed by The Times shows a person in the turret of the vehicle pointing what appears to be a less-lethal projectile launcher downward, but it’s unclear whether any shots were fired.
In her statement, Solis cited another federal operation that was at the center of a viral video.
That footage, shot by a bystander and obtained by ABC 7, shows federal agents in tactical vests and masks smashing the windows of a large white pickup truck before apparently pulling out a man from inside.
Several agents are later seen kneeling on top of the man who is bleeding from an apparent head wound, even as a crowd of onlookers demand that the man be released. In one clip, an agent is shown pushing the man’s face into the pavement.
MEMPHIS, Tenn. — The NAACP filed an intent to sue Elon Musk’s artificial intelligence company xAI on Tuesday over concerns about air pollution generated by a supercomputer near predominantly Black communities in Memphis.
The xAI data center began operating last year, powered by pollution-emitting gas turbines, without first applying for a permit. Officials have said an exemption allowed them to operate for up to 364 days without a permit, but Southern Environmental Law Center attorney Patrick Anderson said at a news conference that there is no such exemption for turbines — and that regardless, it has now been more than 364 days.
The SELC is representing the NAACP in its legal challenge against xAI and its permit application, now being considered by the Shelby County Health Department.
Musk’s xAI said the turbines will be equipped with technology to reduce emissions — and that it’s already boosting the city’s economy by investing billions of dollars in the supercomputer facility, paying millions in local taxes and creating hundreds of jobs. The company also is spending $35 million to build a power substation and $80 million to build a water recycling plant to the support Memphis Light, Gas and Water, the local utility.
Opponents say the supercomputing center is stressing the power grid, and that the turbines emit smog and carbon dioxide, pollutants that cause lung irritation such as nitrogen oxides, and the carcinogen formaldehyde, experts say.
The chamber of commerce in Memphis made a surprise announcement in June 2024 that xAI planned to build a supercomputer in the city. The data center quickly set up shop in an industrial park south of Memphis, near factories and a gas-powered plant operated by the Tennessee Valley Authority.
The SELC has claimed the use of the turbines violates the Clean Air Act, and that residents who live near the xAI facility already face cancer risks at four times the national average. The group also has sent a petition to the Environmental Protection Agency.
Critics say xAI installed the turbines without any oversight or notice to the community. The SELC also hired a firm to fly over the site and saw that 35 turbines — not 15 as the company requests in its permit — are located there.
The permit itself says emissions from the site “will be an area source for hazardous air pollutants.” A permit would allow the health department, which has received 1,700 public comments about the permit, to monitor air quality near the facility.
At a community gathering hosted by the county health department in April, many of the people speaking in opposition cited the additional pollution burden in a city that already received an “F” grade for ozone pollution from the American Lung Association.
A statement read by xAI’s Brent Mayo at the meeting said the company wants to “strengthen the fabric of the community,” and estimated that tax revenues from the data center are likely to exceed $100 million by next year.
“This tax revenue will support vital programs like public safety, health and human services, education, firefighters, police, parks and so much more,” said the statement, a copy of which was obtained by the Associated Press.
The company also apparently wants to expand: The chamber of commerce said in March that xAI had purchased a 1-million-square-foot property at a second location, not far from the current facility.
One nearby neighborhood dealing with decades of industrial pollution is Boxtown, a tight-knit community founded by freed slaves in the 1860s. It was named Boxtown after residents used material dumped from railroad boxcars to fortify their homes. The area features houses, wooded areas and wetlands, and its inhabitants are mostly working-class residents.
Boxtown won a victory in 2021 against two corporations that sought to build an oil pipeline through the area. Valero and Plains All American Pipeline canceled the project after protests by residents and activists led by State Rep. Justin J. Pearson, who called it a potential danger to the community and an aquifer that provides clean drinking water to Memphis.
Pearson, who represents nearby neighborhoods, said “clean air is a human right” as he called for people in Memphis to unite against xAI.
“There is not a person, no matter how wealthy or how powerful, that can deny the fact that everybody has a right to breathe clean air,” said Pearson, who compared the fight against xAI to David and Goliath.
“We’re all right to be David, because we know how the story ends,” he said.
Sainz writes for the Associated Press. AP writer Travis Loller contributed to this report from Nashville, Tenn.
BARCELONA, Spain — Protesters used water pistols against unsuspecting tourists in Barcelona and on the Spanish island of Mallorca on Sunday as demonstrators marched to demand a rethink of an economic model they believe is fueling a housing crunch and erasing the character of their hometowns.
The marches were part of the first coordinated effort by activists concerned with the ills of overtourism across southern Europe’s top destinations. While several thousand rallied on Mallorca in the biggest gathering of the day, hundreds more gathered in other Spanish cities, as well as in Venice and Portugal’s capital, Lisbon.
“The squirt guns are to bother the tourists a bit,” Andreu Martínez said in Barcelona with a chuckle after spritzing a couple seated at an outdoor cafe. “Barcelona has been handed to the tourists. This is a fight to give Barcelona back to its residents.”
Martínez, a 42-year-old administrative assistant, is one of a growing number of residents who are convinced that tourism has gone too far in the city of 1.7 million people. Barcelona hosted 15.5 million visitors last year with such attractions as Antoni Gaudí’s La Sagrada Familia basilica and the Las Ramblas promenade.
Martínez says his rent has risen more than 30% as more apartments in his neighborhood are rented to tourists for short-term stays. He said there is a related effect of traditional stores being replaced by businesses catering to tourists, such as souvenir shops, burger joints and bubble tea spots.
“Our lives, as lifelong residents of Barcelona, are coming to an end,” he said. “We are being pushed out systematically.”
Around 5,000 people gathered in Palma, the capital of Mallorca, with some toting water guns as well and chanting, “Everywhere you look, all you see are tourists.” The tourists who were targeted by water blasts laughed it off. The Balearic island is a favorite for British and German sun-seekers. It has seen housing costs skyrocket as homes are diverted to the short-term rental market.
Hundreds more marched in Granada, in southern Spain, and in the northern city of San Sebastián, as well as the island of Ibiza.
In Venice, a couple of dozen protesters unfurled a banner calling for a halt to new hotel beds in the lagoon city in front of two recently completed structures, one in the popular tourist destination’s historic center where activists say the last resident, an elderly woman, was kicked out last year.
‘That’s lovely’
Protesters in Barcelona blew whistles and held up homemade signs saying, “One more tourist, one less resident.” They stuck stickers with a drawing of water pistols on the doors of hotels and hostels that said “Citizen Self-Defense,” in Catalan, and “Tourist Go Home,” in English.
There was tension when the march stopped in front of a large hostel, where a group emptied their water guns at two workers positioned in the entrance. They also set off firecrackers next to the hostel and opened a can of pink smoke. One worker spat at the protesters as he slammed the hostel’s doors.
American tourists Wanda and Bill Dorozenski were walking along Barcelona’s main luxury shopping boulevard where the protest started. They received a squirt or two, but she said it was actually refreshing given the 83-degree weather.
“That’s lovely, thank you, sweetheart,” Wanda said to the squirter. “I am not going to complain. These people are feeling something to them that is very personal, and is perhaps destroying some areas” of the city, she said.
There were also many marchers with water pistols who didn’t fire at bystanders, using them instead to cool themselves.
Crackdown on Airbnb
Cities across the world are struggling with how to cope with mass tourism and a boom in short-term rental platforms, like Airbnb, but perhaps nowhere has surging discontent been so evident as in Spain, where protesters in Barcelona first took to firing squirt guns at tourists during a protest last summer.
There has also been a confluence of the pro-housing and anti-tourism struggles in Spain, whose 48 million residents welcomed a record 94 million international visitors last year. When thousands marched through the streets of the capital city of Madrid in April, some held homemade signs saying “Get Airbnb out of our neighborhoods.”
Spanish authorities are striving to show they hear the public outcry while not hurting an industry that contributes 12% of the gross domestic product.
Last month, Spain’s government ordered Airbnb to remove almost 66,000 holiday rentals from the platform that it said had violated local rules.
Spain’s Consumer Rights Minister Pablo Bustinduy told the Associated Press shortly after the crackdown on Airbnb that the tourism sector “cannot jeopardize the constitutional rights of the Spanish people,” which enshrines their right to housing and well-being. Carlos Cuerpo, the economy minister, said in a separate interview that the government is aware it must tackle the unwanted side effects of mass tourism.
The boldest move was made by Barcelona’s town hall, which stunned Airbnb and other services that help rent properties to tourists by announcing last year the elimination of all 10,000 short-term rental licenses in the city by 2028.
That sentiment was back in force on Sunday, as people held up signs saying “Your Airbnb was my home.”
‘Taking away housing’
The short-term rental industry contends that it is being treated unfairly.
“I think a lot of our politicians have found an easy scapegoat to blame for the inefficiencies of their policies in terms of housing and tourism over the last 10, 15, 20 years,” Airbnb’s general director for Spain and Portugal, Jaime Rodríguez de Santiago, recently told the AP.
That argument either hasn’t trickled down to the residents of Barcelona or isn’t resonating.
Txema Escorsa, a teacher in Barcelona, doesn’t just oppose Airbnb in his home city; he has ceased to use it even when traveling elsewhere, out of principle.
“In the end, you realize that this is taking away housing from people,” he said.
Wilson writes for the Associated Press. AP videojournalist Hernán Múñoz in Barcelona and AP writer Colleen Barry in Venice contributed to this report.
Alleging widespread and egregious violations of housing and tenant laws, Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta sued Southern California real estate tycoon Mike Nijjar in Los Angeles County Superior Court on Thursday.
In the lawsuit, Bonta accused Nijjar, family members and their companies of subjecting tenants to vermin infestations and overflowing sewage, overcharging them and violating anti-discrimination laws.
The suit says that Nijjar is one of California’s largest landlords, operating multibillion dollars in holdings. Nijjar family companies, commonly known as PAMA Management, own 22,000 rental units, primarily in low-income neighborhoods in Southern California.
The suit follows a more than two-year California Department of Justice investigation into Nijjar’s holdings, Bonta said.
“PAMA and the companies owned by Mike Nijjar and his family are notorious for their rampant, slum-like conditions — some so bad that residents have suffered tragic results,” Bonta said in a statement. “Our investigation into Nijjar’s properties revealed PAMA exploited vulnerable families, refusing to invest the resources needed to eradicate pest infestations, fix outdated roofs and install functioning plumbing systems, all while deceiving tenants about their rights to sue their landlord and demand repairs.”
Bonta is seeking penalties against Nijjar and his family business entities, restitution for tenants, disgorgement of ill-gotten gains and injunctive relief barring Nijjar and PAMA from continuing unlawful business practices.
A representative for Nijjar said he forcefully rejects the claims in the lawsuit.
“The allegations in the complaint are false and misleading, and its claims are legally erroneous,” Nijjar attorney Stephen Larson said in a statement. “We look forward to demonstrating in court that Mr. Nijjar and his companies are not only compliant with the law, but they provide an extraordinary service to housing those disadvantaged and underserved by California’s public and private housing markets.”
Nijjar’s real estate empire has long been on authorities’ radar.
In 2020, LAist detailed wide-ranging dangerous conditions at Nijjar’s properties dating back years, including a fire at a PAMA-owned mobile home in Kern County that resulted in the death of an infant. The mobile home was not permitted for human occupancy, according to the report and Bonta’s lawsuit. Two years later, The Times wrote a series of stories about Chesapeake Apartments, a sprawling 425-unit apartment complex in South L.A., where Nijjar’s tenants complained of sewage discharges, regular mold and vermin infestations and shoddy repairs. Chesapeake had the most public health violations of any residential property in L.A. County over the previous five years, according to a Times analysis at the time.
Prior attempts at accountability for Nijjar and his companies have been spotty and ineffective. After the 2016 mobile home fire that killed the infant in Kern County, the California Department of Real Estate revoked the licenses associated with Nijjar’s company at the time. In response, Nijjar and family members reorganized their business structure, the suit said.
The L.A. city attorney’s office resolved a nuisance abatement complaint against PAMA at Chesapeake in 2018, only for the widespread habitability problems to emerge. A similar case filed by the city attorney’s office against a PAMA property in Hollywood remains in litigation more than three years after it was filed. In the meantime, Nijjar’s companies have settled multiple habitability lawsuits filed by residents.
Bonta said that PAMA has taken advantage of lax and piecemeal accountability efforts and its low-income tenants’ vulnerability. Most residents, he said, have low or fixed incomes with few alternatives other than to endure the shoddy conditions in their rentals.
The lawsuit alleges that the habitability problems at PAMA properties are “ongoing business practices” — the result of decisions to make cheap repairs rather than necessary investments in maintenance, the use of unskilled handymen, lack of staff training and failure to track tenant requests.
“Nijjar and his associates have treated lawsuit after lawsuit and code violation after code violation as the cost of doing business and have been allowed to operate and collect hundreds of millions of dollars each year from families who sleep, shower, and feed their children in unhealthy and deplorable conditions,” Bonta said. “Enough is enough.”
Besides tenants’ living conditions, the suit alleges Nijjar and PAMA have induced residents into deceptive leases, discriminated against tenants on public assistance programs and issued unlawful rent increases.
The suit contends PAMA’s leases attempt to invalidate rights guaranteed under law, including the opportunity to sue and make repairs the landlord neglected and deduct these costs from the rent. The company has told Section 8 voucher holders that there are no units available when others are being rented to applicants without vouchers, the complaint said.
The case alleges that PAMA has violated California’s rent cap law on more than 2,000 occasions. The law limits rent increases to 5% plus inflation annually at most apartments. PAMA, the suit says, shifted mandatory shared utility costs, which used to be paid by the landlord, onto tenants’ bills in an attempt to evade the cap. The combination of the new utility costs and rent hikes resulted in total increases of up to 20%, more than double the allowable amount, according to the suit.
Lancaster — A California law aimed at reducing the amount of climate-harming greenhouse gases at landfills is exacerbating the problem of illegal dumping in the Antelope Valley, according to local officials and residents.
The law, dubbed California’s Short-Lived Climate Pollutant Reduction Strategy, requires residents and businesses to separate food waste, yard trimmings and other organic waste from their trash to reduce the amount of methane, a powerful greenhouse gas, being emitted into the atmosphere.
Signed into law in 2016, the bill mandated a gradual increase in the amount of organic waste that must be diverted away from landfills to sites where the waste could be treated and composted, thus reducing the emission of greenhouse gases. The law required the diversion of 50% of all green and food waste from landfills by 2020; by 2025, that number was to hit 75%.
A separate law closed a legal loophole that had previously encouraged waste haulers to cover landfill debris with green waste.
Although experts say the law appears to be working in most regions of the state, the Los Angeles area has been a problem. They say the city of Los Angeles and many of its surrounding municipalities haven’t invested in the infrastructure needed to process increased organic waste, nor is there the agricultural demand for the finished product that there is farther north.
“Illegal dumping has been a problem in the Antelope Valley for decades,” said Chuck Bostwick, a senior field deputy for Los Angeles County Supervisor Kathryn Barger, who represents much of the area. “But, since these laws were passed, it’s gotten markedly worse.”
Bostwick said state regulations have made disposal of organic waste “much more expensive and hard to deal with,” and therefore increased the financial incentives for waste haulers to dump illegally, thus circumventing the high processing costs of composting and treating the material.
A truck leaves the Circle Green mulch dump site near El Mirage.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Antelope Valley residents say there are dozens or more rogue dump sites across the region. Although a few are just straight-up garbage and trash, most of the more than 80 identified by residents appear to be some form of unprocessed mulch.
One such site, located in San Bernardino County near the El Mirage Dry Lake bed, gave off a rancid smell on a cool spring afternoon. The material underfoot was dark brown and appeared to be a mix of wood chips and woody debris, dotted with cast-off rubber and plastic — the shred of a Spalding basketball here, a purple plastic squirrel there. The stumps of dead Joshua trees jutted from the fetid ground cover, while a few others, still alive, appeared anemic and were adorned in wispy strands of plastic debris and dust.
A lawsuit filed this year in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles by Antelope Valley residents claims that waste-hauling companies including Athens Services and California Waste Services are dumping hazardous substances without authorization, which the companies deny. Athens noted that the law encourages the distribution of compostable material to “farmers and other property owners for beneficial use.”
It’s this interpretation of land-application that has caused consternation among the valley’s desert-dwelling residents: There are no laws preventing landowners from applying compost to their fields or property.
According to Bostwick and others, landowners in the Antelope Valley are granting permission for waste haulers to come and dump on their property in return for payment.
That’s completely legitimate, according to Lance Klug, a spokesman for CalRecycle, the state’s waste agency. Property owners can spread waste on their land, he said as long as the material is compostable and not mixed with non-organic material; contains less than 0.5% of plastic, metal or other contaminants; contains only minimal amounts of metals and pathogens; and is not deposited in piles higher than 6 inches.
At sites such as the one near El Mirage, the legality of the material is questionable. A spreadsheet compiled by CalRecycle officials during a visit in November describes the waste as “illegal.” But at other sites, the waste appears to be in line with state regulations.
But even if it is legal, its presence threatens to cause lasting damage to the desert ecosystem, said Wesley Skelton, assistant land manager at the Portal Ridge Wildlife Preserve, a protected area near the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve.
Yard trimmings often contain seeds of invasive plant species and toxic herbicides, he said, and mulching is also problematic, disrupting fragile ecosystems, contributing to poor air quality and potentially the spread of the dust-loving fungus that causes Valley fever.
“We’re concerned that these landowners aren’t having to do any environmental impact report when they do dump on their land,” Skelton said. “The effects of these dumpings are long-lasting habitat destruction, and introduction of invasive plants that’s going to affect the air quality of Lancaster and Palmdale for years to come.”
Trash is dumped at this Lancaster location north of E. Avenue J. on April 18.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
“We put in a lot of effort to combat these plants— the Russian thistle and the mustard and all the different grasses and everything,” Skelton said, naming two invasive species that are crowding out the native flora. “It’s a huge problem.”
Nick Lapis, director of Californians Against Waste, doesn’t think the composting laws are the problem in the Antelope Valley. He said dumping has been happening there for more than decade — long before the composting laws were in place.
A sneaker among the trash dumped at Adobe Mountain near Lancaster on April 18.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Irrespective of the cause, it is a big problem, he said, and state and local enforcement agencies need to stop it — both by requiring jurisdictions to track waste, at every step of its journey, and implementing a clear strategy for enforcement.
“It is outrageous that while some companies are investing millions in legitimate composting operations — real facilities with real customers and real climate benefits — others are just dumping raw green waste in the desert and calling it farming,” he said. “It’s a slap in the face to everyone doing the right thing.”
SAN ANSELMO, Calif. — It’s hard to miss Brian Colbert. It’s not just his burly 6-foot-4 frame, his clean-shaven head or the boldly patterned, brightly colored Hawaiian shirts he’s adopted as an unofficial uniform.
Colbert is one of just a small number of Black people who live in wealthy, woodsy and very white Marin County — and the first Black supervisor elected since the county’s founding more than 175 years ago.
He didn’t lean into race, or history, as he campaigned in the fall. He didn’t have to. “As a large Black man,” he said, his physicality and the barrier-breaking nature of his candidacy were self-evident.
Rather, Colbert won after knocking, by his count, on 20,000 doors, wearing out several pairs of size 15 shoes and putting parochial concerns, such as wildfire prevention, disaster preparedness and flood control, at the center of his campaign. He continues, during these early months in office, to focus on a garden variety of municipal issues: housing, traffic, making local government more accessible and responsive.
That’s not to say, however, that Colbert doesn’t have deeply felt thoughts on the precedent his election set, or the significance of the lived experience he brings to office — different from most in this privileged slice of the San Francisco Bay Area — at a time President Trump is turning his back on civil rights and his administration treats diversity, equity and inclusion as though they were four-letter words.
“I think of the challenges, the indignities that my grandparents suffered on a daily basis” living under Jim Crow, Colbert said over lunch recently in his hometown of San Anselmo. He carefully chose his words, at one point resting an index finger on his temple to signal a pause as he gathered his thoughts.
Colbert recalled visits to Savannah, Ga., where he attended Baptist church services with his mother’s parents.
“I remember looking at the faces,” Colbert said, “and to me they were the faces of African Americans waiting for death, because they were aware and knew of the opportunities that had been denied to them simply because of the color of their skin. But what gave them hope was the belief their kids and grandkids would have a better life. I am a product of that hope, in so many ways.”
Colbert, 57, grew up in Bethel, Conn., about 60 miles northeast of New York City. Residents tried to prevent his parents — an accountant and a stay-at-home mom — from moving into the overwhelmingly white community. Neighbors circulated a petition urging the owners to not sell their home to the Black couple. They did so anyway.
Colbert went on to earn degrees in political science and acting, public policy and law. He traveled the world with his wife, a Syrian American, practiced law on Wall Street, ran a chocolate company and a small tech firm. He lived for 3½ years in Turkey, where he taught international law and political science at a private university.
In 2007, when the couple returned to the U.S., they set their sights on the Bay Area, drawn by the weather, the natural beauty and the entrepreneurial spirit that drew countless opportunity seekers before them. (Colbert started wearing Hawaiian shirts on the Silicon Valley conference circuit, after being mistaken one too many times for a security guard.)
In 2013, Colbert, his wife and their daughter settled in San Anselmo, a charmy tree-lined community about 15 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The relatively short commute to San Francisco, where he manages a medical concierge service, the quality schools and the vast open space were big attractions — though Colbert knew he and his family would stand out, just as he had in Bethel.
San Anselmo, with its rugged hillsides and red-brick downtown, has about 13,000 residents. The Black population is less than 2%. But Colbert’s extensive travels and life overseas convinced him that people “on a certain level [are] the same” everywhere — “warm, welcoming, kind, generous, helpful.”
He had an abiding interest in policy and public service, so in 2013 Colbert joined the city’s Economic Development Council. Four years later, he was elected to the Town Council. He served seven years, one in the rotating position of mayor, before running for the nonpartisan Board of Supervisors.
Inevitably, he encountered racism along the way. There were threatening phone calls and emails. He got the occasional side-eye as he canvassed door-to-door in all-white neighborhoods. For the most part, however, “people were incredibly pleasant” and campaigning “was no more challenging … than it would be [for] any candidate.”
On a recent sunny afternoon, Colbert was greeted heartily — “Hey, Brian!” “Hey, supervisor!” — as he strode past Town Hall to Imagination Park, a gift the city’s most famous resident, filmmaker George Lucas, bequeathed along with life-sized statues of Yoda and Indiana Jones.
Given a chance to speak directly to Trump, what would Colbert — a Democrat — say?
“Mr. President, thank you for your service,” he began. “Being in public offices is hard and difficult.”
He paused. Several beats passed. A waiter cleared away dishes.
“I would encourage you to change your tone, certainly publicly, and broaden your perspective and embrace those who might have a different perspective than you,” Colbert went on. “Many people have come to this country and they’ve added value. They’ve made this country for the better.
“Remember those who don’t necessarily have easy access to power. Remember those who are struggling. Focus on those who are most vulnerable and are highly dependent on the government to help them through a short amount of time. I mean, the American experiment is incredible. Keep that in mind. A little empathy. Simple acts of kindness. Place yourself into someone else’s shoes.
Carol Parks, the chief of Los Angeles’ Emergency Management Department, sat before a budget committee last year and painted a dire picture.
Although tasked with responding to crises in the nation’s most disaster-prone region, her department had received just a tiny fraction of the city’s budget and was getting by with a staff of roughly 30.
There was no staffer devoted full-time to disaster recovery, which meant that if an earthquake or major wildfire struck, the city would have to scramble.
But the City Council and Mayor Karen Bass balked at devoting more money to the department.
Seven months later, flames tore through Pacific Palisades and nearby communities, destroying more than 6,000 structures and displacing tens of thousands.
Now, the Emergency Management Department is in charge of coordinating the monumental task of recovery — but with a budget smaller than what the city’s Police Department uses in roughly two days.
To supplement the bare-bones emergency management team, Bass turned to an Illinois-based disaster recovery firm, Hagerty Consulting, inking a yearlong contract for up to $10 million. She also brought a former EMD general manager, Jim Featherstone, back from retirement to serve as the de facto recovery chief.
More than four months after the fire, Palisades residents and some of their elected officials are increasingly frustrated, asking: Who is in charge? What have they been doing? How is Hagerty spending its time? And what is the plan to restore the Palisades?
L.A. brings on Hagerty
As flames chewed through the Palisades on Jan. 7, EMD assigned a mid-level staffer to take on the recovery. Soon, Featherstone — a former firefighter who once served as interim LAFD chief — arrived at the emergency operations center.
Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass, left, and her disaster recovery czar Steve Soboroff, right, at Palisades Recreation Center in January.
(Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times)
In practice, Featherstone — a self-described “operator” and “tactical person” — assumed the recovery director role, helping to choreograph a massive, multiagency response.
Zach Seidl, a spokesperson for Bass, disputed that characterization and said the two men had different roles. Featherstone’s “role is largely internal to the City,” while Soboroff, whose term ended last month, “worked externally with the community along with other engagement teams within the Mayor’s Office,” Seidl said in an email.
While the city code puts EMD in charge of coordinating disaster recovery, it operates with fewer resources than similar departments in other large California cities. A 2022 audit found that L.A. spent $1.56 per resident on emergency management — far less than Long Beach at $2.26 and San Francisco at $7.59.
With such a small team for a 469-square-mile city, EMD has struggled to staff its emergency operations center in crises, prepare for events like the 2028 Olympics and help residents recover from smaller-scale calamities like building fires, storms and mudslides.
Parks told the City Council in a 2024 memo that her department “lacks the experience and dedicated staff to oversee long-term recovery projects.” After recent emergencies, EMD handled recovery duties “on an ad hoc basis,” yielding “delays, postponements and possible denial of disaster relief funds,” she wrote.
To boost EMD, Bass in early February tapped Hagerty after hearing proposals from firms including AECOM and IEM. Her reasons for choosing Hagerty were unclear, although the firm had already signed a wildfire recovery contract with L.A. County’s emergency management office and had long worked with the state Office of Emergency Services.
It’s not unusual for a state or local government to retain a recovery consultant after a disaster, even if it has a recovery arm of its own. Hagerty has routinely been hired to help with hurricane recovery, including managing billions of dollars in funding after Superstorm Sandy in New York in 2012.
Because Bass hired Hagerty under her emergency authority, the city has also solicited bids for a longer-term recovery contract worth $30 million over three years, with Hagerty among the companies vying for it.
Initially, Hagerty spent “a significant amount” of time compensating for the lack of a city recovery team, said Featherstone, who supervises Hagerty’s work, at a budget hearing last month.
By contrast, L.A. County had a dedicated recovery operation that consultants could plug into — and the muscle memory from recent disasters like the Woolsey fire.
“The structure had to be built out,” Featherstone told council members at the budget hearing. “Folks were pulled out of their regular day-to-day functions … to start to build out a recovery capability.”
Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass speaks with Pacific Palisades residents at a debris removal town hall on Jan. 26 in Santa Monica.
(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)
That structure is a series of tactical teams focused on issues including infrastructure, economics, health and housing. Under each umbrella are multiple working groups composed of several city departments working with federal and regional agencies.
Under the infrastructure team, for example, is a debris removal group, a utilities team and a group for hazards such as mudslides, according to a recording of a recovery meeting reviewed by The Times. The housing team, meanwhile, brings together the Department of Building and Safety and the city Planning Department to streamline the permitting process.
Debris removal was one of the first orders of business — so that group was among the first to be organized and has been the “busiest,” as one EMD staffer said in a recording of an internal March meeting.
The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has the primary responsibility for clearing debris from lots, with most expected to be done by Memorial Day and the rest largely due to be finished this summer. The city, with Hagerty, helped explain the debris removal process to residents, including the decision to opt in to the Army Corps cleanup or do it on their own.
With Hagerty’s guidance, the Emergency Management Department also created a dashboard showing the progress of debris removal, with real-time maps tracking the status of each lot.
Tracey Phillips, a Hagerty executive, told City Council members in March that her firm was organizing these tactical teams and holding weekly meetings so that “we can develop a short-term and mid-term operational framework.”
“This is the first step to that: [determining] who the players are, getting them in the room, getting them trained up and developing that operational cadence,” Phillips explained. “It’s already happening — it’s just not being reported and it’s not kind of coalesced yet.”
As of mid-March, Hagerty had about 22 employees working on Palisades fire recovery, billing the city at hourly rates ranging from $80 to nearly $400 per employee.
City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez is among those who say that some of the money used for Hagerty would have been better spent bolstering the Emergency Management Department’s rank and file — as Parks had requested last year.
“I don’t understand their purpose. I don’t need another contractor,” Rodriguez said in an interview. “What my city staff needs is staff to do the work.”
Asked whether funding for Hagerty would be better spent on EMD, Seidl, the spokesperson for Bass, said most of the firm’s work is reimbursable by the federal government, a point that Featherstone made at a March budget hearing. Featherstone also suggested that Hagerty’s guidance could yield more funding in the long run because of the firm’s expertise with the Federal Emergency Management Agency.
Hagerty and Featherstone declined interview requests from The Times. Joseph Riser, a spokesperson for EMD, provided written responses to questions.
EMD was “very pleased” with Hagerty for building out recovery teams “where they did not previously exist,” Riser said, noting that the firm has improved coordination and provided “high-level briefings” to City Hall and department general managers, among other duties.
Seidl emphasized that the mayor has taken steps to preserve EMD’s budget, “even in difficult budget times like this year.” He also touted steps the city has taken to hasten the recovery, like a one-stop permitting and rebuilding center, measures to allow for the re-issuance of permits for homes built in recent years, and restoring water and power in two months compared to the 18 months it took in Paradise after the 2018 Camp fire.
“Despite one of the worst natural disasters in recent history, L.A.’s recovery effort is on track to be the fastest in modern California history,” Seidl said.
Palisades residents strike back
Some Palisades residents say that Hagerty and EMD — and ultimately, Bass and her team — have done a poor job of communicating what their plan is going forward.
Citing the cornucopia of government agencies involved in the rebuild, City Councilmember Traci Park, whose district includes the Palisades, said, “Sometimes it feels like there are so many people in charge that no one is in charge.”
Maryam Zar, who runs the Palisades Recovery Coalition, said that at times, “we feel like we are doing this ourselves.”
Pacific Palisades residents attend a town hall on the L.A. Fire Health Study featuring leading scientists on post-fire health in the backyard of a private residence on Tuesday in Los Angeles. The study is a 10-year effort to study the exposures to dangerous substances and consequent health effects.
(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)
Zar and her group have been among the most vocal advocates for a logistics plan governing how thousands of homes will be rebuilt in a community with narrow streets and already-snarled traffic.
The group has circulated ideas that include a concrete plant in the Palisades, short-term housing for construction crews and one-way roads to ease congestion.
Zar said that Hagerty has “shown up to community meetings, and they have been so unable to deliver any kind of information.”
In an interview, Park said that “for weeks and weeks now,” she also has been asking Hagerty and city departments for “a logistics and operations plan” for moving people, vehicles and materials in and out of the Palisades.
Park has visited Lahaina, Hawaii, which was devastated by a wildfire in 2023, and studied other communities rebuilding from fires. She said those areas had consultants who were “very, very engaged” with communities in identifying priorities and solving problems. She wants the city and Hagerty to push forward on a longer-term recovery plan that establishes criteria for fire-safe rebuilding and a timeline for restoring parks, schools, libraries and businesses.
“I know that those things can take significant time to develop. But this is Los Angeles, and this is the Pacific Palisades, and we are not waiting around,” she said, adding that she and her constituents were “moving at warp speed.”
Riser, the EMD spokesperson, said that traffic and logistics were not handled in a “single, static, formal plan,” but that problems were being addressed in coordination with city and state agencies. He also said EMD has brought in traffic experts to “structure this work more effectively.”
“Recovery is dynamic and complex and changes daily as debris is cleared, infrastructure is repaired, and reentry phases evolve,” Riser said.
Frustration with Hagerty boiled over at an April 10 meeting of the Palisades community council, where Hagerty representative Harrison Newton touted recovery as “a chance to become more resilient to the next disaster.”
Residents could barely contain their fury, criticizing Newton for an abstract presentation that seemed divorced from their real needs around rebuilding, permitting and traffic control.
“It feels extremely generic,” said Lee Ann Daly, who then turned her ire toward City Hall. “You need to know that we have a trust issue with the people who are paying you. … We have a trust issue, and it’s huge.”
Palisades resident Kimberly Bloom, whose home burned in the fire, pressed Newton to provide a “concrete example” of Hagerty’s work in a prior disaster “that is not just another layer of bureaucracy, because that’s what it feels like at the moment.”
Newton referred residents to Hagerty’s website and spoke of how his firm provides “augmentation support,” prompting residents to interrupt and criticize his use of jargon.
After some back and forth, Newton emphasized that he and his team were trying to accelerate the city’s response to the issues raised by residents. Hagerty, he said, was “bringing more people to bear so they’re less thinly stretched, and you’re achieving work faster.”
What lies ahead
So far, more than 1,500 parcels in the Palisades have received a final sign-off from L.A. County that they are cleared of debris, paving the way to begin rebuilding.
As of this week, 54 construction permits for 40 addresses have been issued in the Palisades, said Seidl, who noted that hundreds of permit applications are now under review.
The burden will increasingly shift onto city agencies like the Department of Building and Safety to serve thousands of homeowners and businesses seeking plan checks, permits, inspections and certificates of occupancy.
The logistics of whole neighborhoods undertaking simultaneous construction projects on hillside streets, with only a few major arteries in and out, will test the recovery framework that EMD and Hagerty have been working to erect.
In the coming weeks, Bass is expected to name a new chief recovery officer, and her team is “currently interviewing … qualified candidates,” Seidl said. Featherstone, who was initially hired on a 120-day appointment, is now serving as an assistant general manager at EMD, and Parks, the EMD chief, has asked for funding in the coming fiscal year’s budget to keep him.
Hagerty could be replaced by a different firm if it loses the competitive bidding process for the multi-year recovery contract. One of the many “deliverables” for that contract is developing a long-term recovery plan.
That type of overarching plan governing the rebuilding — and direct communication about the plan — is what residents and local officials say they have been pleading for.
“We have more debris clearing to do, but we are also breaking ground on new buildings,” said Councilmember Park. “If we don’t get those plans under control and in place, this is going to turn into ‘The Hunger Games’ very quickly.”
For the last 18 months, the city of Rancho Palos Verdes has been struggling to address a worsening local emergency — the dramatic expansion of an ancient landslide zone that has torn homes apart, buckled roadways and halted utility services.
Triggered by a succession of heavy winter rains in 2023 and 2024, the ongoing land movement has upended the lives of residents and cast the city into financial uncertainty. Without significant outside aid, officials say they expect to spend about $37 million this fiscal year on emergency landslide mitigation — a sum nearly equal to the city’s annual operating budget.
Now, to make matters worse, the Trump administration has announced that it will cease funding the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities grants — a major pot of money the city hoped to use to finance a long-term prevention and stabilization plan.
“The BRIC program was yet another example of a wasteful and ineffective FEMA program,” read the administration announcement. “It was more concerned with political agendas than helping Americans affected by natural disasters.”
For the city of Rancho Palos Verdes, the action amounts to the likely loss of $16 million for stabilization work. It also marks a striking reversal in federal support for local slide mitigation efforts.
In September 2024, a campaigning Trump visited his nearby Trump National Golf Club to say that government needed to do more to help residents in the slide area. “The mountain is moving and it could be stopped, but they need some help from the government. So, I hope they get the help,” Trump said.
Last week, city officials again extended a local emergency declaration as the crisis continues to pose unprecedented strain on city finances.
“We are running out of money quickly,” Rancho Palos Verdes Mayor Dave Bradley said at a recent City Council meeting. “We are dramatically coming to the end of our rope to be able to [continue landslide mitigation efforts]. … We are spending major percentages on our total budget on this one issue.”
The majority of those allocated funds have gone toward a collection of new underground “de-watering” wells, which pump out the groundwater that lubricates landslide slip planes — a strategy that geologists have credited with helping to ease the movement in recent months.
While the city isn’t yet facing a major budget shortfall, its reserve funds have quickly dwindled over the last two years. By next fiscal year — which begins in July — the city expects to have only $3.5 million in unallocated capital improvement reserves, down from $35 million three years ago, according to city data. And while landslides have been the most pressing concern of late, city officials say they now face an estimated $80 million in other capital projects.
“Without a doubt, we need outside help for this landslide,” said Ramzi Awwad, the city’s public works director. He said the city is working to find and apply for other federal and state funding sources, but has run into roadblocks because landslides are not typically included within most disaster or emergency response frameworks.
“This is a disaster … very much exacerbated by severe weather and severe climate change,” Bradley recently testified before the California Assembly Committee on Emergency Management. He called the growing price tag for necessary response “unsustainable.”
Many areas of the Rancho Palos Verdes landslide complex — which covers more than 700 acres and includes about 400 homes — are still moving as much as 1.5 feet a month, damaging property and infrastructure, according to the city. Other sections that shifted several inches a week at the peak of movement in August 2024 have slowed or completely halted. City officials attribute those improvements to the ongoing mitigation projects as well as a much drier winter — but they say more work is needed to keep the area safe and accessible.
Officials argue the loss of FEMA funding could stymie long-term slide prevention efforts that were in the works for years before land movement drastically accelerated last year.
The Portuguese Bend Landslide Remediation Project, which calls for the installation of a series of water pumps called hydraugers, as well as other measures to keep water from entering the ground, was initially awarded a $23-million FEMA BRIC grant in 2023, Awwad said. The grant was later reduced to $16 million.
The project is separate from the city’s ongoing emergency response, but key to long-term stability in the area, Awwad said.
Rancho Palos Verdes officials dispute the administration’s assertion that the BRIC grant program is “wasteful and ineffective.” Instead, they say it represented a lifeline for a small city that has long dealt with landslides.
For decades, the city’s most dramatic landslide — the Portuguese Bend slide — has moved as much as 8.5 feet a year, or approximately an inch or two per week. Last summer, it was moving about a foot a week. Other nearby landslides, including Abalone Cove and Klondike Canyon, also saw dramatic acceleration last year, but those areas are not a part of the long-term stabilization plan.
Shown is a view of a large fissure in Rancho Palos Verdes’ Portuguese Bend neighborhood. Landslides have accelerated in the city following back-to-back wet winters in 2023 and 2024.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
“Losing the BRIC funding will jeopardize the city’s ability to implement long-term efforts to slow the Portuguese Bend landslide and prevent the kind of emergency we are experiencing now from happening again,” Megan Barnes, a city spokesperson, said.
Because BRIC grants were earmarked for preventive measures, the city was unable to use the money for its emergency response. But in recent weeks, the city completed the first phase of the long-term project — planning, engineering and final designs — after FEMA approved $2.3 million for that initial work.
Officials say the city has yet to receive that portion of the funding, and it is now unclear whether it ever will.
“We are still seeking clarification on the next steps for what, if any, portion of the BRIC grant may be available,” Barnes said. “We continue to strongly urge our federal, state and county partners to recognize the urgency of this situation and continue to support the city in protecting our residents and vital infrastructure.”
Awwad said it’s not just the local residents who benefit from such stabilization efforts; it also helps the thousands of motorists who use Palos Verdes Drive South and thousands more residents who rely on the county-run sewer line that runs alongside the road.
“This is a regional issue,” Awwad said.
Barnes said the city is considering applying to FEMA’s Hazard Mitigation Grant Program for the project, but securing state or federal funding for stabilization projects has been a challenge.
After the Biden administration declared the 2023-2024 winter storms a federal disaster, the city applied to FEMA for over $60 million in disaster reimbursements, linking its landslide mitigation work to the heavy rainfall. But FEMA officials rejected almost all of the city’s request.
The city has appealed that decision, but it seems unlikely federal officials will reverse course. In a recent letter to FEMA about the appeal, the California Governor’s Office of Emergency Services recommended the appeal not be granted because the landslides “were unstable prior to disaster” and therefore not a “direct result of the declared disaster.”
“Cal OES agrees with [the city] that the winter storms… may have greatly accelerated the sliding,” the letter said. “However … the pre-existing instability dating back to 2018 makes that work ineligible per FEMA policy. “
The most significant outside funding the city has received has come from Los Angeles County. Supervisor Janice Hahn secured $5 million for the landslide response — more than $2 million of which has been distributed to homeowners for direct assistance through $10,000 payments. The county’s flood control district also allocated the city $2 million to help cover costs preparing for the rainy season.
In 2023, the city also received $2 million from Congress after U.S. Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) helped secure the funds for landslide remediation.
The city’s most dramatic financial support — if it comes through — would be a $42-million buyout program that was awarded last year by FEMA. With that money, city officials expect a buyout of 23 homes in the landslide zone, 15 of which have been red-tagged, or deemed unlivable. FEMA has yet to allocate those funds, Barnes said, but even if it does, none of the money would go toward slide mitigation or prevention.
In the face of such difficulties, city officials have thrown their support behind a bill that could change how the state classifies emergencies.
Assemblymember Al Muratsuchi (D-Rolling Hills Estates) introduced AB 986, which would add landslides as a condition that could constitute a state of emergency — a change that could free up a pool of state funds for Rancho Palos Verdes.
He called the bill “a common sense proposal” after seeing what the Rancho Palos Verdes landslide zone has been dealing with, but similar bills in the past have failed.
“The Palos Verdes peninsula … has been witnessing what I call a slow-moving train wreck,” Muratsuchi testified at an Emergency Management Committee hearing last month. “Homes are being torn apart. … The road is being torn apart, utilities are being cut off. By any common sense definition: a natural disaster.”
