Science

The L.A. wildfire cleanup was fast. Residents eager to rebuild worry officials chose speed over safety

Published

2 months ago

December 3, 2025

The L.A. wildfire cleanup was fast. Residents eager to rebuild worry officials chose speed over safety

The devastation left in the wake of January’s Eaton and Palisades fires was unimaginable. The firestorms engulfed 59 square miles of Southern California — more than twice the size of Manhattan — transforming entire city blocks in Altadena and Pacific Palisades into corridors of ashes, twisted metal and skeletal trees.

Federal disaster officials rapidly deployed thousands of workers to gather up the wreckage across the burn scars. Armed with shovels and heavy construction equipment, crews quickly collected fire debris from rugged cliffsides, dusky shorelines and sprawling burnt-out neighborhoods. In a matter of months, they transformed the heaps of charred rubble into mostly vacant matchbox lots, ready for rebuilding.

Recently, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers reported that it had finished clearing roughly 2.6 million tons of wreckage from nearly 9,700 properties, an astonishing eight-month federal cleanup that has been extolled as the largest and fastest in modern American history. Private contractors removed fire debris from an additional 2,100 parcels.

However, many experts worry that the rapid pace of federal cleanup resulted in sloppy work, time-saving measures and lax oversight that may ultimately cost homeowners.

The Army Corps has largely demobilized and contractors have cleared out, and they’ve left serious questions for disaster victims who are preparing to embark on one of the region’s largest reconstruction campaigns in the past century.

Mandana Sisco, right, and her husband, Justin, visit the site where their home once stood as their children, Marley, 5, and her brother, August, 7, play in Pacific Palisades. The Siscos, who had their lot independently tested for toxins, were relieved when tests revealed there was no contamination to the soil.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

Federal officials also notably disavowed the need to conduct soil testing, insisting it would be too time-consuming. But soil sampling performed by university researchers, local public health authorities and Los Angeles Times journalists have found excessive levels of toxic metals at properties already cleared by the Army Corps.

Share via

A team of university scientists from UCLA, Loyola Marymount and Purdue tested soil samples from 47 already-cleaned homes in Altadena, finding 49% of already-cleaned homes still had elevated levels of lead above California’s standards for residential properties.

“It’s not a recovery if you leave 50% of the properties unsafe.”

— Andrew Whelton, Purdue University

“This recovery cannot be credibly compared to any other wildfire cleanup in recent memory,” said Andrew Whelton, an engineering professor at Purdue University who studies natural disaster recovery. “And that is because of deliberate decisions by government officials at all levels to skip soil testing. They did not determine that when the contractors left a property, the property was safe to use.

“It’s not a recovery if you leave 50% of the properties unsafe. While the federal government may demobilize, the onus now has been pushed to the property owners to either finish the job. Or they can ignore it, because L.A. County doesn’t require your property to be safe to rebuild.”

Despite such concerns, many praise the effort for its efficiency. The speedy recovery has allowed some survivors, including Altadena resident Carlos Lopez, to rebuild much earlier than they anticipated.

“It’s hope,” Lopez said about his homesite, where, on Sept. 10, workers have already built a wooden frame. “Neighbors that I talked to, we just wanted something to grasp onto that we’re actually moving forward. There’s some realization that we can get back home sooner rather than later.”

Line chart showing the percent of cleanup for both the Eaton and Palisades fires

Col. Jeffrey Palazzini, who oversaw debris removal operations for the Palisades fire, said the Army Corps and its contractors have largely received positive feedback from property owners, like Lopez. He said the speed is a reflection of the urgency of the public health threat, not necessarily an indication of poor workmanship.

Signs are posted as construction is underway on the home of Carlos Lopez in Altadena.

The L.A. County wildfire cleanup marks the maturation of a federal wildfire response that has tackled a barrage of historically destructive fires in Oregon in 2020, New Mexico in 2022 and Hawaii in 2023 — each of which were the largest wildfires in their state’s history.

“Over the past seven to 10 years, I think there has been — sadly — enough experiences for this process to be streamlined and improved upon with lessons learned each time it happens,” said Laurie Johnson, a renowned urban planner who specializes in natural disaster recovery. “And I think L.A. has been a benefit of that.”

Lindsey Horvath, L.A. County supervisor representing the Palisades, expressed cautious optimism for the road ahead. “Throughout the cleanup, we’ve followed all recommended best practices and will continue to follow the advice of experts throughout our recovery,” Horvath said in a statement. “I continue to call for soil testing to give homeowners greater peace of mind before rebuilding, and support efforts to make recovery assistance more accessible so we can rebuild faster and safer. Recovery doesn’t end here.”

Early days

In Pacific Palisades and Malibu, the wildfires turned some of the region’s most famous stretches of roads — including Sunset Boulevard and Pacific Coast Highway — into an unrecognizable labyrinth of debris. Mansions with picturesque views of the Pacific Ocean were obliterated into charred slabs of stucco, broken concrete and dust.

In Altadena, a middle-class melting pot tucked into the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, the inferno consumed century-old cottages and family-owned businesses on Lake Avenue, the community’s main commercial drag.

In the wake of these twin disasters, Gov. Gavin Newsom’s administration asked the federal government to take the lead on recovery. In the final days of his administration, President Biden approved funding and deployed federal agencies to start removing and disposing the most dangerous materials from affected properties.

Jan. 9 aerial view of neighborhoods destroyed by the Palisades fire.

In mid-January, neighborhoods were a literal minefield of explosive materials, including propane tanks, firearm ammunition and large lithium-ion batteries in electric vehicles, e-bikes and blackout-ready battery storage systems. There were also a plethora of household items that contained corrosive acids and toxic ingredients that needed to be collected to prevent them from polluting soil and groundwater.

On Jan. 16, the Environmental Protection Agency deployed its first teams to assess the damage and presence of hazardous materials. The agency ultimately identified about 13,600 properties, mostly single-family homes, that had been damaged or destroyed in the fire, and probably rife with hazardous materials.

Within days of taking office, President Trump signed an executive order instructing the EPA to expedite the removal of hazardous materials. EPA administrator Lee Zeldin later said Trump had directed the agency to complete the mission in 30 days — a demanding directive for work that typically takes several months.

In response, the Federal Emergency Management Agency increased disaster funding by nearly $179 million, money used to “surge” 850 contractors to collect the most dangerous materials from the burn scars by that deadline, according to records obtained by The Times.

In white coverall suits and full-face respirators, hazmat workers went property by property sifting through the ashes to dredge up lead-acid batteries, tins of paint thinner and pesticide canisters.

EPA personnel and agency contractors converted popular community gathering spots, including the driving range of Altadena Golf Course and the parking lot of Will Rogers State Beach, into hazmat stockpile sites. Workers laid down multiple layers of plastic liners where materials could be sorted and eventually hauled to hazardous waste dumps.

EPA crews comb the ruins of a home on Miami Way that was burned in the Palisades fire.

On Feb. 25 — two days ahead of schedule — the EPA announced it had completed that work. Its hazmat crews had overseen the removal of 300 tons of hazardous debris from 9,400 properties — making it the largest-ever hazardous materials cleanup for a wildfire the EPA had ever executed.

However, the EPA had also passed over 4,500 parcels, or 30% of properties, deeming them unsafe to enter. A Times analysis of residential properties found that workers balked at accessing 1,336 homes damaged or destroyed in the Palisades fire, and 1,453 homes in the Eaton fire.

EPA spokesperson Julia Giarmoleo said the deferred properties had hazardous trees, dangerous obstructions, steep slopes and unstable walls that prevented the EPA field teams from safely accessing the property.

“EPA’s operations are always based on completing the entirety of our work as quickly, efficiently, and safely as possible,” Giarmoleo said. “In the case of the L.A. fires, EPA encountered a higher percentage of properties that required deferral due to partial structural destruction compared to previous EPA wildfire responses.”

The remaining hazmat work was, instead, left for the Army Corps of Engineers, the agency tasked with handling the second phase of debris removal.

The Army Corps rolls in

The Army Corps and its primary contractor, Environmental Chemical Corp., were charged with removing millions of tons of ash, concrete and metal. They vowed to remediate upward of 12,000 properties by January 2026 — within a year of when the deadly wildfires first broke out. The ambitious timeline would outpace any wildfire debris removal mission the Army Corps had ever tackled, including the 18-month recovery for the 2023 Lahaina wildfire that destroyed 2,200 homes and buildings.

Jan. 14 photo of Eliot Arts Magnet Middle School burned by the Eaton fire in Altadena.

The Army Corps and ECC hired several subcontractors, and in early February dispatched the first cleanup crews to several schools that were ruined in the fires, including Pasadena Rosebud Academy Charter School in Altadena, where hazmat workers shoveled asbestos waste into thick plastic bags. They waded through a field of charred debris, gathering up fire-gnarled steel rods, metal door frames and structural beams into piles, which were later loaded onto dump trucks and hauled away to landfills.

Soon after, workers moved onto fire-destroyed homes. In mid-February, after a two-day delay due to heavy rainfall, crews finished clearing their first homesites in Altadena and Pacific Palisades.

A view of Eliot Arts Magnet Middle School after the federal cleanup.

As the cleanup progressed, one obstacle for public officials was tracking down the thousands of displaced survivors and getting them to sign paperwork that would grant federal cleanup crews permission to clear their properties. Because the fast-moving wildfires forced people to evacuate with little warning, many fled with only the clothes on their backs.

“Obviously, someone will have to be last. But we wanted to make sure that process was transparent.”

— Anish Saraiya, director of Altadena recovery director

Army Corps personnel tried to disseminate sign-up instructions and appeal to the public at press conferences and community meetings. Local officials helped by making phone calls to disaster victims in parts of Altadena where response had been lacking, according to Anish Saraiya, Altadena’s recovery director for L.A. County Supervisor Kathyn Barger’s office.

“Our office even started calling individual property owners, because there was already a concern about the disparity postfire west of Lake [Avenue],” Saraiya said. “One of the things we wanted to make sure is that this was an equitable process that got to everybody at once. Obviously, someone will have to be last. But we wanted to make sure that process was transparent.”

Wildfire victims seek disaster relief services at one of two FEMA Disaster Recovery Centers in Pasadena.

By April, with roughly 9,000 opt-ins, the federal cleanup had hit its stride. About 230 cleanup crews and 4,000 workers fanned out across the burn scars, working 12-hour shifts to remove debris from homes and haul it to landfills and scrapyards.

Following reporting by The Times, FEMA and the Army Corps drew criticism from environmental advocates and fire survivors for deciding not to perform soil testing after cleanups to ensure properties did not have toxic metals, such as lead, above California’s health standards for residential properties.

It would be the first major wildfire response in California since 2007 without a measurable goal for clearing toxic substances.

Homes destroyed by the Eaton fire were cleaned at a faster rate than those affected by the Palisades fire, according to a Times analysis of residential properties. Army Corps officials said they attempted to prioritize properties near schools, coastlines, waterways and occupied homes.

One such property belonged to Bronwen Sennish and her husband; their Spanish-style home had been a short distance from Palisades Elementary Charter School.

Sennish said she appreciated the sense of urgency and sensitivity with which the Army Corps approached her home. On one April morning, when she and her husband arrived at their lot, heavy machinery was already humming. Sennish said that the crew happily explained the parameters of their work. And the excavator operator took the time to sift through the rubble with the two in search for anything salvageable. “People who have been trained in the military are incredibly good at problem solving and logistics,” Sennish said.

But not everyone had a positive experience.

Cleanup crews, for example, excavated too much soil from Colten Sheridan‘s lot in northeast Altadena in April, according to internal Army Corps reports obtained by the Los Angeles Times. Sheridan, who is still displaced and living temporarily in Santa Cruz County, said he was never informed of the potentially costly mistake.

Instead, five months later, while Sheridan contemplated rebuilding plans, he was shocked to find out from L.A. Times journalists that his property had been the subject of a complicated internal debate within the Army Corps and debris removal workers.

“I feel like I absolutely should have been notified. I’m just reeling in my head right now,” he said. “If they over-excavated, and if they’re not going to do anything about it, what are my recourses? I don’t know.”

In early September, Sheridan called an Army Corps hotline dedicated to handling questions and concerns about the federal cleanup, but didn’t get answers.

A sign expressing community resilience in Altadena on Sept. 10.

A sign announces a future home to be built on a destroyed property in Altadena.

Now Sheridan fears he may have to foot the bill to bring in clean soil and regrade his property before he can rebuild. If a home is seated too low, it won’t be able to properly connect sewer lines and storm drains, which require a high-to-low slope.

Army Corps officials declined to comment on Sheridan’s property, citing privacy concerns.

Many environmentalists and community members had worried the speed of the cleanup might lead to workers cutting corners or substandard workmanship.

Cleanup supervisors routinely observed workers without masks and other safety equipment, according to Army Corps records. In some cases, workers disregarded decontamination protocols by stepping outside of contaminated areas without rinsing their boots.

Jana Karibyna in the backyard of her home after it was destroyed by the Eaton fire.

And according to internal documents attained by The Times, debris crews were regularly confused how to handle contaminated pool water — which researchers have found to contain trace amounts of lead, arsenic and other toxic chemicals. The contractors allegedly sprayed it into building footprints, front lawns, neighboring properties and even in the street, where it could have ended up in drainage systems leading to the oceans.

James Mayfield, owner of Mayfield Environmental Engineering, a private contractor specializing in hazardous materials, cleaned around 200 properties destroyed in the L.A. fires. For pools filled with ash, he suctioned contaminated water with a vacuum truck and sent it to locations that treat wastewater.

Mayfield believes inexperienced workers and the breakneck timeline probably led to some crews ignoring those best practices and redepositing toxic metals onto residential properties and local waterways.

“Proper hazmat disposal is about $10,000,” Mayfield said. “You can imagine, most people didn’t want to do that. They want to cut corners.”

Many wealthier homeowners with robust insurance policies opted out of the federal cleanup and decided to hire private contractors, which, in some cases, may have expedited their cleanup and rebuilding timeline, and provided access to services the government program didn’t provide — such as post-cleanup testing or property-wide soil removal.

A Times analysis of the private cleanups underscores the wealth gap between affluent residents of Pacific Palisades and working-class communities in Altadena: At least 1,392 homes opted out of the cleanup in the Palisades, nearly four times the number in the Eaton fire area, according to the analysis.

Tom James, a lifelong Palisades resident, decided that the Army Corps cleanup came with too many uncertainties. He also didn’t feel comfortable signing the liability waiver that would indemnify the federal government and contractors in the event of mistakes. He chose instead to hire a private crew that he was able to pay with his insurance policy, to clear out fire debris from his historic Victorian home in the heart of the Alphabet Streets, along with his collection of vintage cars and motorcycles in his garage underneath.

Still, James was affected by federal contractors. An Army Corps crew working next door left a large pile of his neighbors’ soil in his backyard. He walked down to the American Legion where Army Corps officials were stationed to let them know. A representative apologized and vowed to remove soil, but James said they never returned.

A time to rebuild

All told, the federal project cleared 9,673 properties — a mix of home sites, commercial properties, parks and schools — according to the Army Corps.

Aerial view of cleared properties and construction crews working on rebuilding a home in Altadena.

That has paved the way for the submission of more than 3,000 applications to rebuild — some 900 of which have already been approved.

In Altadena, some residents ready to rebuild have returned to their empty lots in RVs. The screech of tablesaws and popping of nail guns break up the silence in the fire-hollowed corners of these neighborhoods.

“I had a very simple lot, and they took everything I wanted removed … my neighbor has a real issue to solve now with getting dirt back in.”

— Lamar Bontrager, Altadena resident.

Lamar Bontrager, a real estate agent, has already laid a foundation and begun framing his home on Loma Alta Drive. He credits the Army Corps for the quick start.

“I had a very simple lot, and they took everything I wanted removed,” Bontrager said. Bontrager counts himself lucky. Looking at other lots around town, he said some neighbors will have a big lift. “At some houses, they [federal contractors] dug massive holes — my neighbor has a real issue to solve now with getting dirt back in.”

A fallen tree in front of a construction crew rebuilding an Altadena home that burned down.

While the cleanup was the fastest in history, some survivors feel forgotten. According to federal records, 391 property owners who requested federal help were deemed ineligible by FEMA.

FEMA says some of those properties did not experience enough damage for eligibility. The agency deemed others, including many multi-family homes, as commercial properties, and, therefore, also ineligible.

These decisions put some of the largest housing developments affected by the fires in a bind. For example, the Army Corps cleared the Tahitian Terrace mobile home park in Pacific Palisades, across the street from Will Rogers State Beach, but did not clean up the Pacific Palisades Bowl, a 170-unit mobile home park next door.

“There’s hundreds and hundreds of people that are still having sleepless nights.”

— Jon Brown, Pacific Palisades Bowl resident.

Residents were never told why one property qualified and the other did not; those decisions are entirely up to FEMA.

Rusted metal frames and a blanket of pallid ash still sit within a few hundred feet from the ocean. Residents, who have heard little from the landowners about the dilemma, have been stuck in limbo.

“There’s hundreds and hundreds of people that are still having sleepless nights,” said one resident, Jon Brown, co-chair of the Palisades Bowl Community Partnership fighting for residents’ right to return home. “I just drove by the park today and it just makes me sick.”

Brown and others have watched the Corps clear thousands of lots and a handful of owners start rebuilding, while their piles of charred debris remained virtually untouched. They have little certainty they’ll ever be able to return.

Brown, facing steep rent for temporary housing, fears the owners may be looking for a way out — selling the land or changing its use.

“What is going to compel them to rebuild it as a mobile home park if they can’t even be motivated to clean it up?” Brown asked.

Federal disaster officials and contractors are no longer around to answer those questions.

Before the Army Corps and its workers packed up, they held two small ceremonies to commemorate the last homes to be cleaned in each burn scar.

In Altadena, Tami Outterbridge, daughter of renowned artist John Outterbridge, had specifically requested to be last.

Tami Outterbridge is working to preserve the legacy of her father, artist John Outterbridge.

She and her mother, Beverly, lived in two separate homes on their family’s lot in West Altadena. They postponed their cleanup several times, asking her father’s friends and contemporaries to help them scour the ashes for pieces of his artwork and other mementos. They found a pair of her father’s vintage spectacles and fragments of his sculptures, assembled from knickknacks and everyday objects.

When the cleanup crew arrived in mid-August, they came with a team of dog-assisted archaeologists that helped find her grandmother’s ashes — and recover some of John Outterbridge’s collection of flutes from underneath a collapsed wall.

“Those are things that literally are irreplaceable,” Tami Outterbridge said. “As I was reckoning with what it meant to say you’ve lost two homes and all your possessions — that’s when the idea started formulating. I can literally adhere to Dad’s art practice, which was very much about this notion of finding objects that other people saw as discarded — not worthy, trash debris — and turning them into aesthetic marvels.”

Stanley C. Wilson sifts through the ashes that remain of John Outterbridge's family home.

At the Aug. 14 ceremony commemorating Outterbridge’s home as the final Altadena home to be cleaned as part of the federal project, Saraiya, the Altadena recovery director, looked around at a neighborhood that just a few months ago had been chock-full of ash and cinders. It was now a sweeping panorama of mostly empty, mulch-covered lots.

“I’m not a very emotional person, but I felt myself getting choked up,” he said, “because it was really this one clarifying moment that this work is done.”

Saraiya said he understood local officials would need to soon start discussing rebuilding roads, installing underground power lines and planning a more fire-resilient community. “After all of these months, after all of this work and all of this effort — there’s so much more to do.”

Assistant data and graphics editor Vanessa Martinez and senior journalist Lorena Iñiguez Elebee contributed to this report.

Science

Contributor: New food pyramid is a recipe for health disasters

Published

21 hours ago

January 21, 2026

Press Room

Contributor: New food pyramid is a recipe for health disasters

The meat industry’s celebration of the Trump administration’s Dietary Guidelines for Americans should be a clear sign that these new guidelines aren’t for the people.

It’s true that “the United States is amid a health emergency,” as Secretaries Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Brooke Rollins state. However, in claiming to be an answer to the diet-related diseases plaguing our nation, their guidelines are an alarming dismissal of actual science. They not only flip the food pyramid on its head, encouraging us to consume more full-fat dairy products, but they even promote red meat. The truth hasn’t changed: Consuming more red meat and dairy leads to more chronic disease, not less.

Eating red meat — even unprocessed varieties — has been found by Oxford researchers to increase the risk of heart disease. And according to the World Health Organization, some studies show processed red meat to be a carcinogen, potentially leading to colorectal cancer.

Protein consumption “at every meal” is emphasized in the latest guidelines, and although protein intake is indeed a crucial part of any diet, experts widely believe that it’s been overemphasized in this country. Most Americans already consume far more protein than they need. Furthermore, plant foods such as edamame, lentils, peas, nuts, seeds and legumes offer a healthy source of protein that’s free from the cholesterol found only in animal products.

Whole-food plant proteins are also typically very low in saturated fats, which have long been linked to an increased risk of heart disease and high cholesterol. Although previous USDA Dietary Guidelines recommended limiting saturated fat to just 10% or less of one’s daily calories, Kennedy continues to promote its consumption. The new guidelines go so far as to label beef tallow a “healthy fat,” despite its risks. Full-fat cow’s milk, too, is high in saturated fat, and dairy has been tied to a higher risk of certain types of cancer, including breast and prostate cancer.

Meanwhile, plant-based diets have been associated with a lower risk of cardiovascular disease and death, and those high in fiber have been shown to reduce cancer risk. The American Cancer Society actually links low consumption of fruits and vegetables to nearly one-third of mouth, throat, esophageal and laryngeal cancers.

The government’s guidelines should not ignore years of nutrition science to prop up the meat and dairy industry. Thankfully, other institutions provide more evidence-based and responsible recommendations. For example, the New American Plate from the American Institute for Cancer Research recommends that two-thirds or more of one’s plate be filled with vegetables, fruits, beans and whole grains, and that animal-based proteins take up one-third or less. The American Heart Assn. “encourages adults to get most of their protein from plants.” The World Health Organization suggests shifting away from saturated fats, which should be “less than 10% of total energy intake,” and notes that consuming at least five portions of fruits and vegetables each day lowers one’s risk of heart disease, diabetes, stroke and cancer.

Meanwhile, according to the Food & Drug Administration, sales of antibiotics for use in farm animals increased by 16% in 2024 compared with the previous year. More and more of these drugs are being funneled into factory farms, where 99% of U.S. farmed animals are raised. When used in excess, these drugs — along with hormones used to promote animal growth — eventually end up in the meat consumed by the public, resulting in the development of antibiotic-resistant bacteria that kill about 35,000 Americans annually, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“For decades, federal incentives have promoted low-quality, highly processed foods and pharmaceutical intervention instead of prevention,” write Kennedy and Rollins. But make no mistake: These guidelines demonstrate that the federal government continues to promote unhealthy food, benefiting agribusiness and putting public health at risk.

Mentions of vegetarian and vegan diets are saved for a small section at the end that focuses primarily on “nutrient gaps” rather than suggesting the ways a healthy plant-based diet can meet one’s nutritional needs and even promote better health.

The new guidelines feature several positive recommendations, including “eat real food” (whole, unprocessed) and limiting one’s consumption of highly processed foods, sugar and alcohol. Instead of stoking fear over plant-based meat alternatives or repeating buzz phrases like “ultra-processed foods,” which should be limited in any diet, our government should be recommending a diet backed by science.

“Together, we can shift our food system away from chronic disease and toward nutrient density, nourishment, resilience, and long-term health,” write Kennedy and Rollins. Yes, we can — if the federal government shifts its funding and promotion away from unhealthy, animal-based products to whole, plant-based foods.

Gene Baur is president and co-founder of Farm Sanctuary.

Science

Fed up with perimenopause or menopause? The We Do Not Care Club is here for you

Published

2 days ago

January 20, 2026

Press Room

Fed up with perimenopause or menopause? The We Do Not Care Club is here for you

Melani Sanders is over it.

She’s over meticulously applying makeup before leaving the house or, even, having to wear a bra when running errands. She’s over wasting time plucking chin hairs, searching for brain fog-induced lost reading glasses and — most of all — withholding her opinions so as not to offend others.

As a 45-year-old perimenopausal woman, Sanders is no longer searching for outside validation and is over people-pleasing.

The dedication page in her new book sums it up best: “To the a— who told me I had a “computer box booty.”

Who is this dude, and is Sanders worried about offending him?

She doesn’t care.

Author, Melani Sanders, in an outfit she typically wears in her social media videos.

(Surej Kalathil Sunman Media)

That’s Sanders’ mantra in life right now. Last year, the West Palm Beach, Fla.-based mother of three founded the We Do Not Care Club, an online “sisterhood” into the millions of perimenopausal, menopausal and post-menopausal women “who are putting the world on notice that we simply do not care much anymore.” Sanders’ social media videos feature her looking disheveled — in a bathrobe and reading glasses, for example, with additional pairs of reading glasses hanging from her lapels — while rattling off members’ comments about what they do not care about anymore.

“We do not care if we still wear skinny jeans — they stretch and they’re comfortable,” she reads, deadpan. “We do not care if the towels don’t match in our house — you got a rag and you got a towel, use it accordingly.”

Sanders’ online community of fed up women grew rapidly. She announced the club in May 2025, and it has more than 3 million members internationally; celebrity supporters include Ashley Judd, Sharon Stone and Halle Berry. It’s a welcoming, if unexpected, space where women “can finally exhale,” as Sanders puts it. The rallying cry? “We do not give a f—ing s— what anyone thinks of us anymore.”

That’s also the message of Sanders’ new book, “The Official We Do Not Care Club Handbook: A Hot-Mess Guide for Women in Perimenopause, Menopause, and Beyond Who Are Over It.” The book is part self-help book, with facts about the perimenopause and menopause transition; part memoir; part practical workbook with tools and resources; and part humor book, brimming with Sanders’ raw and authentic comedic style. (It includes a membership card for new club inductees and cutout-able patches with slogans like “lubricated and horny” or “speaking your truth.”)

We caught up with Sanders while she was in New York to promote her book and admittedly “overstimulated from all the horns,” she said. But she just. Did. Not. Care.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The We Do Not Care Club came about after you had a meltdown in a supermarket parking lot. Tell us about that.

I was in the parking lot of Whole Foods. I needed Ashwagandha — that was my holy grail at the time for my perimenopause journey, and I was out of it. I got back in my car and looked at myself in the rear view mirror. I had on a sports bra that was shifted to one side. My hair was extremely unstructured. I had a hat on and socks mismatched — I was a real hot mess. Nothing added up. But in that moment, I realized that I just didn’t care much anymore. I just said, “Melanie, you have to take the pressure off, girlfriend. It’s time to stop caring so much.” I decided to press the record button and see if anyone wanted to join me in starting a club called the We Do Not Care Club. I released the video and drove home, which took about 20 minutes, and by the time I got home it had [gone viral].

You got hundreds of thousands of new followers, internationally, within 24 hours. Why do you think the post resonated so greatly at that moment?

I had to dissect that because it was kind of unreal. Like, what is it about country, old Melanie that hit record and asked about a little club that she thought maybe 20 or 30 women would want to join? Over the summer, I studied this and did more videos and I listened. It was the relatability. It was the understanding. It was just letting my guard down and just saying it out loud. Speaking my truth. Also, for many women, we have this silent pressure to get it all done. But we’re at capacity. In the book, I talk about how, once I was in perimenopause, I didn’t want to have sex with my husband. I didn’t want to see my kids — like, everyone just close the door! And that’s kind of shameful, you know? It’s not like I don’t love my family. I really do. But I can’t do it all anymore. And I just think that resonated with a lot of sisters throughout the world. It was like: Now is the time for us to just explode and I think we all did it at once.

"The Official We Do Not Care Club Handbook."

You entered perimenopause (or “Miss Peri,” as you call it) at age 44, after a partial hysterectomy. How did your life change after that?

I did not expect it. I knew that I had fibroids and I was uncomfortable because of that. So when I had the hysterectomy, I was expecting to now be a whole person again afterwards. But I just went into this dark place. It was like you’re fighting against yourself to just be normal again. And your body is changing in so many ways. For me, that was the hot flashes, the insomnia, the depression, the rage. My joints were really, really stiff all of a sudden. It’s like, ‘wait a minute, how and why?!!’ And [I got] frozen shoulder. Frozen shoulder was how I discovered I was in perimenopause because I was not told by my doctor who performed my hysterectomy that this could happen. And I didn’t know where to turn or where to go because I was just being told everything was normal. I was so frustrated with the process, the lack of education, the lack of resources. The lack of compassion, I would even say.

Your book and social media videos are so funny. Do you have a comedy background?

I don’t, and I get asked that often. I just say what’s on my mind and sometimes, I guess, it comes out funny — but I’m not trying. The [wearing multiple pairs of] glasses: I do that because, with perimenopause, my eyesight went bad really quickly. I was out in public one day and I could not read. I was just traumatized. So every time I would see glasses, I would just put them on me because I don’t want to get stuck without them. That neck pillow, when I got frozen shoulder, I was using it a lot. Then one day when I hit record, I had the neck pillow on and I just didn’t care. And it stuck.

You’ve appeared on TV, been featured in publications, and People magazine named you creator of the year for 2025. What has this sudden fame been like for you?

It’s surreal. I have not completely processed it yet. It’s a lot to take in. I’m just an everyday woman that decided to press record and accidentally started a movement. Impostor syndrome is there from time to time. But I’m just trying my best to accept everything that’s going on — and keep just being Melani.

Has the overwhelming response from new members fueled your own resolve to be true to yourself or otherwise changed you personally?

It absolutely has. It’s the strength that the sisterhood gives me. Because I’m very scared. You know, the book is coming out. And the tour is sold out in several cities. This is all within an eight-month span. It’s a lot. But when everyone is saying they love you, and when you have a group of women that understands you and feels the way that you feel, absolutely, there’s strength in numbers. Now I don’t care about making mistakes.

You live in a very male household. What do your sons and husband think of all this?

Once I decided that I didn’t care anymore, I just expected for them to kind of allow things just to go to hell around the house — but it was quite the opposite. All three of my sons and my husband, they’re just very supportive. Because it was very sad for me. It was very hard to not want to watch movies or anything and just be by myself. But they rose to the occasion and they make sure things are done when they’re home. They really show how they love their mom during this time.

How can other men become allies to the women they love during the menopause transition?

Just either get out of our way or, you know, just kind of read the room! Because we don’t know who we are from day to day. We don’t know what’s gonna ache. We don’t know what’s going to hurt or what’s going to itch or what’s going to be dry. And if it’s an off day, then darling, it’s just an off day — and it’s OK.

What are some things that you do still care about greatly?

I care about sisterhood. Because when women bind together, it’s a game changer. We will move mountains. I just think that, in this world, there’s so much pressure, so much overstimulation. So I care about being able to live authentically. To feel free. To be OK with who you are. Within WDNC, the two things that I definitely want to convey that I care about is: that you are enough. And you are not alone. And of course I love my kids. I love my family immensely.

Where does the WDNC go from here? What’s the future?

Retreats. That is definitely a dream. To have a weekend retreat where women can come and the only thing that you need to bring is some clean underwear and some pantyliners! (You can’t have a good, hard laugh or a good sneeze or a good cough without pissing your pants.) No makeup, no nothing, just come and be free. I want three different rooms. One will be the rage room and you’ll go in there and just throw stuff around and scream and punch, whatever you want. Then a quiet room. No talking, no nothing, just silence. And the last room will be the “Let that s— go room.” That’s where we’ll put everything that we have in us, that we’re holding onto that’s keeping us from living a blissful and peaceful life, and write it down and let it go. I just want to touch sisters and let them know it is OK. We are OK. I have my s— I go through. You have your s— you go through. It’s OK. Let’s live.

Science

‘It is scary’: Oak-killing beetle reaches Ventura County, significantly expanding range

Published

4 days ago

January 18, 2026

Press Room

‘It is scary’: Oak-killing beetle reaches Ventura County, significantly expanding range

A tiny beetle responsible for killing hundreds of thousands of oak trees in Southern California has reached Ventura County, marking a troubling expansion.

This is the farthest north the goldspotted oak borer has been found in the state. Given the less-than-one-half-inch insect’s track record of devastating oaks since being first detected in San Diego County in 2008, scientists and land stewards are alarmed — and working to contain the outbreak.

“We keep seeing these oak groves getting infested and declining, and a lot of oak mortality,” said Beatriz Nobua-Behrmann, an ecologist with UC Agriculture and Natural Resources. “And as we go north, we have tons of oak woodlands that are very important ecosystems over there. It can even get into the Sierras if we don’t stop it. So it is scary.”

A goldspotted oak borer emerges from a tree.

(Shane Brown)

Although officials are only now reporting the arrival, they first found the beetle in Ventura County in the summer of 2024. Julie Clark, a community education specialist at the UC program, recalled getting a call from a local forester who spotted an unhealthy-looking coast live oak while driving in the Simi Hills’ Box Canyon.

“He saw dieback. He saw all the leaves on the crown were brown, which is one of the characteristic signs of a GSOB infestation,” Clark said in a blog post published this week, using the acronym for the invasive insect.

The forester examined the tree and found D-shaped holes — the calling card of the goldspotted oak borer — where the beetles had chewed through the tree to emerge from the bark.

Foresters debarked and chipped the highly infested tree to kill the beetles inside. Surrounding trees, however, were not afflicted.

Still, the beetle continued its march in the county. In April, another dead, beetle-infested oak was found in Santa Susana, according to the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection. A month later, several more dead and injured trees were discovered.

The beetle, named for six gold spots that adorn its back, doesn’t fly far. It reaches faraway areas by hitching a ride on firewood. Nobua-Behrmann, an urban forestry and natural resources advisor, is among a contingent calling for regulations limiting the movement of firewood.

The goal, they say, is to prevent the slaughter of the state’s iconic oaks.

The beetles lay their eggs on oaks. When the larvae hatch, they bore in to reach the cambium. The cambium is like a tree’s blood vessels, carrying water and nutrients up and down. The insect chews through the layer, and eventually the damage is akin to putting a permanent tourniquet on the tree.

An infested tree will often display a thinning canopy and red or black stains on the trunk, injured areas where the tree is attempting to force out insects. The “confirming sign” is the roughly eighth-inch exit hole.

In the Golden State, the beetles are attacking the coast live oak, canyon live oak and the California black oak.

The goldspotted oak borer is native to Arizona, where the ecosystem is adapted to it and it doesn’t kill many trees. It’s believed that it traveled to San Diego County via firewood. It has since been found in L.A., Orange, Riverside and San Bernardino counties, and, according to research by UC Riverside, has killed an estimated 200,000 oak trees.

In 2024, the beetle was discovered in several canyons in Santa Clarita, putting it just 14 miles from the roughly 600,000 coast live oaks in the Santa Monica Mountains. Reaching the scenic coastal mountain range was described as “the worst case scenario” for L.A. County in a 2018 report.

Researchers, fire officials and land managers, among others, are working to control or slow the beetles’ death march. They acknowledge they’re unlikely to be eradicated in the areas where they’ve settled in.

Experts advise removing and properly disposing of heavily infested trees, and that entails chipping them. (To kill the minute beetle, chips must be 3 inches in diameter or smaller.)

If trees are lightly or not yet infested, they can be sprayed or injected with insecticides.

However, there are drawbacks to the current options. Pesticides may harm nontarget species, such as butterflies and moths. And the treatment can be expensive and laborious, making it impractical for vast swaths of forest.

There’s another nontoxic tactic in play: educating the public to report possible infestations and burn firewood where they buy it.

People can also volunteer to survey trees for signs of the dreaded beetle, allowing them to “do something instead of just worrying about it,” Nobua-Behrmann said.

UC Agriculture and Natural Resources, along with the Cal Fire, is hosting a “GSOB Blitz” surveying event next month in Simi Valley.