Jody Miller is doing her best.
The only tree she could squeeze into the temporary apartment she is sharing with her husband this Christmas was too tiny to decorate. So she strung up lights above the fireplace, pinned stockings to the front door and lined up three glowing reindeer on the patio wall.
It feels festive. But Christmas won't be the same without all the couple's friends and neighbors from the Oakridge Mobile Home Park.
The close-knit community once celebrated the major holidays together. But the residents have scattered since fire erupted last month in the hills above Sylmar and destroyed 487 of the park's 608 homes.
"I went to visit my house the other day and cried," Miller said. "The park is empty now and it's like a cemetery."
They were not the only ones displaced this year by wildfires. At least 600 families won't be celebrating at home today in the Los Angeles area because they were burned out of their houses, according to the American Red Cross.
Many have sought temporary refuge with friends and relatives while they wait for insurance payouts. The Millers and some 20 other Oakridge families have rented apartments at the FountainGlen complex in Stevenson Ranch.
It helps to have a few familiar faces around for the holidays, Miller says -- people who will swap stories and wish you a cheery "Merry Christmas" when you walk the dog.
"We're all putting on a very good front," she said.
Miller, 57, counts herself lucky. Her house suffered severe smoke damage, but it's still standing. Her sister, Teri Wagoner, lost everything. Wagoner now lives in an apartment on the floor above Miller. Both families will need all the savings they can muster to rebuild, so Christmas will be a modest affair.
"My husband and I are exchanging cards," Miller said. They plan to head over early this morning to a nephew's house to help set up a new train set. But there won't be gifts for anybody over the age of 10.
By comparison, residents say, Christmas at Oakridge was something to behold. The neat, winding rows of factory-ordered homes twinkled with fairy lights strung up along the rooftops. Blow-up Santas and snowmen jostled for space with reindeer and sleighs.
"Oh, my goodness, the place looked like a winter wonderland," said Arlene Kosec, 75.
Like many of the park's elder residents, the retired financial analyst misses her old social life there, especially at this time of year.
