FLAMES DECIMATE CEMETERY MARKERS DESTROYED BY BRUSH FIRE.

Byline: Amy Raisin Staff Writer

SAUGUS - Nearly 75 years after the St. Francis Dam collapsed and killed entire families, a wind-fueled fire ravaged the small cemetery where some of the victims are buried, blackening headstones and turning wood crosses to ash.

Ruiz Cemetery, named for a family of six who perished when the dam broke in 1928, was engulfed in flames Wednesday as the hills in San Francisquito Canyon burned. Among the grave sites charred were those of American Indians who adopted Spanish names in the late 1800s to avoid the bigotry of the day.

``When the cemetery was put in, being a Native American, you were just a redskin Indian, and that wasn't a popular thing,'' said Joyce Ponton, who has lived down the hill from the cemetery for 25 years. ``They took on Spanish names. We found out that this cemetery is about 90 percent Native American.''

The markers, Ponton said, are overrun every spring with small, white flowers. On Thursday, as the 63-year-old surveyed the damage and a hot spot still smoldered nearby, the only traces of the wooden crosses were white ash outlines against the blackened earth.

Ponton, the widow of a veteran firefighter and mother to more than 100 foster children over the years, explained some of the stories of the cemetery.

``It has a lot of heartaches in it. After the flood, they found a (deceased) little boy and nobody ever claimed him,'' she said. ``(Actor) William S. Hart bought him a complete cowboy outfit, and he and the Newhall cowboys brought him up here and laid him to rest with this plaque.''

The plaque, one of the few that showed little damage from the fire, reads: ``In memory of those who lost their lives in the Santa Clara flood. March 13, 1928. Erected by the Newhall Cowboys.''

Moments before midnight on March 12, about 15 billion gallons of water destroyed everything in its path when the St. Francis Dam burst. More than 500 people downstream were killed in the disaster.

Ponton is unsure how many are buried in the small plot above her Shalako Ranch - which she said means ``renewal of the earth'' in Zuni, an American Indian dialect - but the earliest legible marker reveals a burial in 1888.

``Every once in a while, they still show up,' Ponton said of the descendants of some of the deceased. ``Two years ago, about 50 people showed up, and we rededicated the cemetery. We have a very historic spot here.''

The cemetery rests on a small part of the grandmother's nine acres just off San Francisquito Canyon Road.

Ponton's anguish was eased a bit when she discovered the large pepper tree and a bench her husband constructed had sustained little damage. But the area she has christened ``Heartbreak Corner'' revealed the destructiveness of the flames.

``I call it that because this is where the babies are buried,'' she said.

A pair of headstones are adorned with small lambs sculpted out of stone. Another stone marker, half of it blackened by the blaze, reads ``Our Baby Socorro Torres. Born and died Dec. 21, 1941.''

Strangely, the largest monument in the cemetery - the Ruiz family stones - sustained minimal damage.

Under a large stone engraved simply ``Ruiz,'' are the markers of six people: Susana B., 8 years old, sister; Raymond C., 11, brother; Martin F., 19, brother; Mary S., 29, sister; Rosaria P., 52, mother; and Enrique R., 64, father.

As Ponton tried to stomp out a smoldering patch of brush, she was determined to find something positive about the fire.

``The only good thing I can say about this whole thing is we don't have to worry about (the area burning) for a few years now,'' she said. ``It looks like me and my kids will have a lot of work to do, cleaning up the stones.''

CAPTION(S):

4 photos, map

Photo:

(1 -- color -- ran in SAC edition only) Joyce Ponton looks over the remains of the historic Ruiz graveyard. Stone markers survived, but wooden crosses burned.

(2 -- color -- ran in SAC edition only) Flameswere so hot and moved so fast they burned trees and scorched the Angeles National Forest ranger station sign.

(3 -- color -- ran in SAC edition only) Joyce Ponton, who lives nearby, looks over what remains of the historic Ruiz Cemetery, where victims of the 1928 St. Francis Dam collapse are buried.

(4 -- color -- ran in SAC edition only) With smoke looming in the background, Compton firefighters Dion Evan, right, and Randal Gartell wait for an assignment at Central Park as the Copper Fire continues to burn out of control.

David R. Crane/Staff Photographer

Map:

San Francisquito Canyon fire

Green Valley fire