"I'm so sorry; you'd think I'd be over this by now," Kathleen Daugherty said, dabbing away tears. There is no joy in picking out carpet colors or furniture, she said. She can't stop thinking of her mother's irreplaceable antique crystal inkwells and one-of-a-kind dining room chairs, not to mention the family photos -- all lost.
Daugherty can joke about some things. "They were poached," she said of the tropical fish that boiled to death in their hand-tiled koi ponds.
While Bill Daugherty shops for a 75-inch television set, Sam and Tami Goldstein are bracing for hours of videotaped interviews by their insurance company's attorneys.
The Goldsteins say they will be lucky if they're back in the quiet cul-de-sac a year from now. Battles with California Insurance Group, headquartered in Monterey, mean they have done little more than cart the remains of the old home away.
"Atrocious" is attorney Brian Heffernan's description of how the insurance company has treated the Goldsteins. Heffernan, of Engstrom, Lipscomb & Lack in Century City, accused the insurance company of "trying to scam these people of at least six figures," and is threatening legal action.
But Tom Scherff, vice president of claims for the company, also known as California Capital Insurance, defended the company's handling of the Goldsteins' claim. He said that although the company initially made an error and underpaid by about $97,000, it admitted the mistake the day it was pointed out to them in March.
He said the company has already mailed checks totaling more than $200,000 to the couple, which they have chosen not to cash.
"I think the mistake was obviously not acceptable, but in terms of overall coverage we provided them with significant sums of money within three months of the loss," Scherff said.
The grass is definitely greener on Arnie Johnson and Della Boehler's side of the fence. They called Farmers Insurance the morning after the fire and were back in their home by May 1.
"Ben Hahn. He moved up north. He was 85, he took his money and moved up to his daughter's," Johnson said, assessing the neighborhood.
"Look at these three lots, all vacant. I wish something would start. It's lonely, it's danged lonely. We can't wait for more people to get back."
Johnson, a retired construction worker, keeps an eye on the neighborhood.
"People are closer now. You see a strange car and you find out who it is," he said. "This fire started with some guy going down the road throwing flares out the window."
