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A personal reflection on the devastating Malibu wildfires, highlighting the loss of hundreds of homes, prized collector cars, and the resilience of firefighters. Also includes racing memories and a tribute to Robin Hamilton and the unique Aston Martin 'Muncher'.
As I write this, the massive fires here in California are only 15% contained. More than 10,000 homes and buildings have burned to the ground, and it's not over yet. Malibu, known for its beautiful people, movie stars, and sinuous driving roads, now faces devastation. Fires are common here, but we've never seen anything like this—winds of 75-100mph, the Santa Anas, combined with global warming, extreme dryness, over-building, and over-population have all fueled this nightmare.
One especially frightening scene involved luxury vehicles—including Mercedes, Porsche SUVs, Teslas, and Lexuses—stuck in a canyon bottleneck, many abandoned as people ran for their lives. I saw about 30 of these cars melted together, bulldozed off the road so fire crews could get through. Three thousand firefighters and first responders are battling the blaze; even military and inmates from local prisons are assisting. Tents fill staging areas, and Humvees help prevent looting.
I didn’t feel right asking about destroyed collector cars, but many firefighters are enthusiasts and wanted to talk about them. My 1941 American LaFrance fire truck seemed to boost their morale amidst the devastation. The captain took me to a high point in Malibu where the skeletal remains of four Porsches—a pair of 356s and two 911s—were visible, as well as what appeared to be a '47 Lincoln and a '41 Cadillac. It was like modern-day Pompeii, frozen in time.
In communities like Malibu and Pacific Palisades, many people own exotics such as Ferraris and rare Porsches. The sad part, beyond the tragic loss of life, is that none of the vehicles appeared salvageable; aluminum cars melted, and steel-bodied cars were twisted beyond repair. Fire is the worst thing that can happen to a collector car.
I recall a friend whose 1936 Auburn was destroyed by a fire started from a lightbulb melting its plastic housing. That's why I fit battery disconnect switches on all my cars—original Lamborghinis, with wiring running through the body, are particularly fire-prone.
Switching gears, my youngest son Sebastian recently took part in a high-performance Porsche driving course at Barber Motorsports Park in Alabama and did very well. Though he chose not to race professionally, he found insight into my racing experiences. After the 24 Hours of Daytona, he mused that he should have raced, and I congratulated Roger Penske, Porsche, and Nick Tandy for their successes.
I also want to mention the passing of Robin Hamilton. I drove for him a few times in the late 1970s in the unique Aston Martin RHAM/1, nicknamed 'The Muncher' for its appetite for brake discs. We raced it at the 1979 Silverstone 6 Hours, finishing as the last classified runner—a remarkable accomplishment for a heavy, twin-turbo car built on passion and a tight budget. Robin's determination left a lasting impression, and his legacy deserves recognition.
Reflecting on those days, I recall advice from Jo Siffert during my stint as his teammate in the Gulf Porsche 917s. Unlike some, I never aggressively pursued race drives, but I could always look myself in the mirror.
