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Did Venus Flytraps captivate you as a child?

Carnivorous plants may not have been the fascination of every kid on the block, but I was admittedly geeky enough to have a whole terrarium of them.

I could try to justify my offbeat hobby by claiming it was educational, but the truth is it was just plain cool to watch the plants devour every hapless insect that wandered across their jaws. It was like having my own Little Shop of Horrors full of Audreys, albeit on a miniature, self-contained scale.

Sadly, it now appears future generations of schoolchildren may end up deprived of all that good, clean, macabre fun.

According to an Associated Press report, the Venus Flytrap’s sole native habitat — a 100-mile ring of Carolinian bogs and wetlands — is rapidly being decimated by logging, urbanization, fire suppression and poachers.

With nearly 80 percent of its wild populations facing almost certain extinction, “the little plant is more vulnerable than ever,” warns the article. Worse, “the people who could protect it seem focused on other problems.”

As this past weekend has again reminded us, fires have long been the scourge of Griffith Park. Devastating as the 2007-2008 fire seasons have been, however, the worst disaster in the park’s history remains the Great Fire of 1933, seen in this vintage AP photo sent by a Dateline>City of Angels reader.

Like the recent spate of burnings, arson was the suspected cause of the firestorm that erupted almost 75 years ago, with several witnesses saying they had seen a suspicious man running from a rapidly rising column of smoke at the blaze’s flashpoint.

The original Associated Press wire caption to this Oct. 5, 1933, photo reads as follows…

“Twenty Seven Known Dead in Brush Fire: A front line scene of fire fighters building breaks to stop the raging brush and timber fire in Griffith Park, Los Angeles, October 3. Twenty-seven persons were known to have lost their lives, and officials expected the death list to mount higher.”

Remembering the Tragedy

The official death toll did indeed rise to 29, but during the aftermath inquests some citizen groups challenged those figures, arguing that the number killed was almost certainly higher.

Being the Depression Era, there were more than 3,000 men in the park clearing brush and maintaining trails as part of a workfare program when the fire broke out. As the flames spread, the workers were pressed into service to battle them. Inexperienced in fire fighting, their foremen often barked conflicting and dangerous orders, and many found themselves trapped in canyons by wind-swept flames that suddenly turned on them. Assessing the missing, injured and dead took days.

To honor the victims, a memorial cedar tree and bronze plaque were erected Nov. 23, 1933, near the park’s Vermont entrance. That plaque has since disappeared.