The wildfires came fast. 

Fanned by dry winds and fed by brittle brush, the flames moved like a predator across Pacific Palisades. Smoke billowed through the canyons, blurring sightlines and choking the air. Residents scrambled to evacuate as emergency alerts pierced the quiet calm of the coastal neighborhood. For many, there was only enough time to grab what they could and flee. 

Army veteran Jim Cragg stood his ground. He had a plan. 

Years earlier, a brush fire had crept within 500 yards of his Pacific Palisades home while he was stationed at Fort Bragg. The close call was enough to change how he thought about fire readiness. “I decided when I got back, I would come up with a plan,” he said. 

That plan was simple but strategic. He purchased multiple heavy-duty garden hoses, sprinklers, and a tube of fire retardant. When the flames approached this time, he was ready. “My wife came home, she took care of the animals and valuables. My job was to take care of the perimeter,” he explained. “I got on the roof and pulled those three sprinklers up, set them, and sprayed down the side of the house.” 

Water arced over the home, soaking the roof and siding. The line it created stopped the fire in its tracks. From his vantage point, Jim could see the damage below—14 homes down the hillside, all lost. Two of them belonged to friends. “There was no guarantee it would work,” he said. “But it worked.” 

A few blocks away, the American Legion Post 283 building also withstood the onslaught. Though smoke-stained and surrounded by scorched trees, the structure remained intact. Tattered but still waving, an American flag clung to its pole outside the Legion hall—partially burned at the edges but unbroken. It became a symbol in the days to come: of survival, of strength, and of what it means to rise after destruction. 

What happened next turned a moment of crisis into a mission of community. 

Under Jim’s leadership, Post 283 quickly transformed into the Palisades Wildfires Community Support Center. Veterans rallied. They brought the same skills they’d learned in military training—logistics, coordination, calm under pressure—to the neighborhoods they had sworn to protect, even long after taking off the uniform. The Legion hall became a beacon amid the ash. It was a place to get supplies, ask questions, or simply find steady ground. 

Jim, a Past Commander of the Post, mobilized volunteers. People knew they could count on the veterans. When disaster hits, you don’t want chaos—you want a chain of command. That’s what Post 283 offered. 

This wasn’t the first time Jim answered the call. A longtime advocate for veterans and national security, he’s spent years working across both military and civilian sectors. But the fires made his mission personal. It went beyond protecting property. It was about stitching together a shaken community and showing that service doesn’t end with a DD-214. 

That commitment soon caught national attention. 

On June 2, Jim Cragg received a special award from Lieutenant General Scott A. Spellmon, Commanding General of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. The honor recognizes his leadership in promoting a combined Army-veteran response to the Pacific Palisades wildfires. The ceremony was held at the Legion Hall—the same place that served as a lifeline for the community and continues to do so today. 

This summer, Post 283 has a full calendar of outreach and celebration that reflects its renewed purpose and commitment to the community: 

• A special dinner for the National Guard and Army Corps of Engineers, with celebrity Chef Rush 

• Participation in LA Fleet Week and the Military & Veterans Entertainment Awards 

• Flag Day and Army 250th celebrations in June 

• A powerful Fourth of July parade in the Palisades—one that will mean more this year than ever before. This year, the parade is more than a tradition; it’s a testament. A celebration not only of independence, but of resilience. Of how one community, led by its veterans, rose from the ashes together.  

Today, that burned flag still flies outside Post 283. 

Its edges are curled, its colors dimmed—but it hasn’t been replaced. Not yet. Not because they can’t afford a new one, but because that flag tells the truth of what happened here. It survived. So did they. 

Just like that flag, the veterans of Post 283 continue to stand tall as defenders of the country and as builders of community. 

The fire may be out. But the mission has just begun.