One Tough Lesson : School: With classes out for the day, students not helping in the cleanup take in the sights of chaos, reflect on city's disaster.

By JODI WILGOREN

Oct. 30, 1993 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

LAGUNA BEACH — Back East, they have snow days. In the Midwest this summer, school started late because of the floods. And in Laguna Beach on Friday, the aftermath of the devastating fire brought a surprise to the city’s students: no school.

“It’s not really a day to worry about what’s happening,” said Eric Sanders, 13, as he cruised around on two wheels. “For us it’s like a Saturday or Sunday.”

Still, said Sara Velasquez, 13, speaking for many of the Laguna Beach Unified School District’s 2,350 students, “I’d rather go to school than have this happen.”

Two days after they were evacuated from school amid frantic sirens, and a day after the danger disappeared, children whose homes escaped destruction enjoyed an unplanned vacation Friday as the district’s four schools remained closed.

But there wasn’t all that much to do.

The beach? Nah, with military and police helicopters on the sand, it’d be tough to play volleyball. And the place was crawling with with firefighters, journalists and looky-loos.

The movies? No matinees on weekdays, so nothing doing until 6 p.m., when the curtain opened for “Fatal Instinct.”

The mall? There is no mall in Laguna Beach.

So with the sun shining bright and the ash no longer falling from the sky like snow, most children spent their day off tooling around on bicycles, seeing what they could see. Some rode along Skyline Drive where shower stalls standing amid black ruin are the only sign that homes were once there. Others checked out Emerald Bay, where fires hopscotched across cul-de-sacs, destroying some houses and leaving others right next to them unscathed. A few children stopped into El Moro Trailer Park, where 30 homes were destroyed, to check on their friends.

“We’re real happy (to have no school) but kind of bummed in a way because some of our friends’ houses burned,” said Brian Lichterman, 11.

“I was real scared. I was crying and everything,” Clayton Snyder, 10, recalled, rocking back and forth on his skateboard in the noontime bustle of the downtown area. “I thought my mom might be dead or something.”

They took advantage of the free fries and sodas at a canteen truck, or rummaged through the rubble to help those who lost homes find whatever was left. They hung out near the command post at Main Beach, trying to get on television.

“It’s sad for the people that lost their homes but it’s cool for us ‘cause we like what it looks like,” Derek Peterson, 13, said as he sat on his dirt bike, gulping a Coke with two buddies, looking for 15 minutes of fame.

“And, it’s an extra day off from school!” piped in 14-year-old Brendon Floyd.

On Monday, Derek and Brendon will be back in school along with the rest of the students at Thurston Middle School--which lost 14 of its 26 classrooms to flames--for a three-hour debriefing on the fire, counseling sessions and a tour of the damage. Then, for three weeks starting Tuesday, Thurston will have two shifts: Seventh- and eighth-graders will be in class from 7:40 to 11:40 a.m., while sixth-graders will attend from 11:45 a.m. to 3:45 p.m.

The shortened day meets the state’s minimum attendance requirements, school officials said. Students will attend their regular classes for the allotted times, but will have only four periods each day instead of six. The schedule will remain in effect until a dozen portable classrooms arrive on campus.

At Laguna Beach High School and the district’s two elementary schools, where there was no damage to the buildings, classes will resume as usual Monday. Each school will have counselors available, and the high school will have a special assembly.

“They need to see each other and touch each other and know everything’s OK,” said Laguna Beach High Principal Barbara Callard, adding that her school will provide student volunteers to help fire victims.

Already on Friday, dozens of students had appeared at the high school to help. They swept up debris and used felt pens to make signs saying “All Schools Open Monday” for citywide posting.

The football team practiced for its game today against Century High in Santa Ana, and the volleyball squads and band planned to enter competitions as scheduled this weekend.

Indeed, scattered around the city were emblems of normalcy. Bikes stacked up in front of the discount compact disc store downtown. Children climbed the jungle gym at Bluebird Park. The skaters hung out in front of Taco Bell. The surfers caught the waves down below Thalia Street.

At Johnny Rocket’s, a ‘50s-style burger joint in the center of downtown, junior high school girls whose homes were untouched exchanged evacuation tales as they sipped chocolate shakes. “We got our cat and dog and then I got my bear,” Jamie Swintek confided to her eighth-grade chums.

“Yeah, I brought all my stuffed animals,” Char Greene said. “But I didn’t know what clothes to take. I took jeans and then I got all these jackets. . . . I didn’t have any socks! I’ve been living on jackets and jeans!”

“My dad knew I wanted to save everything so he gave me a huge bag and I just dumped all my drawers into it,” Stephanie Castor said. “I even grabbed my violin, which I haven’t touched in two years. . . .”

In the communities where the fire struck hardest, though, the children were inside the homes that escaped damage or helping their parents clean the ones that were not spared. In Emerald Bay, the gated community where about 60 homes were reduced to ash, the private beach and tennis courts were deserted.

Behind a sign saying “Slow, Children at Play,” sat a park where no children were playing.