If you know Malibu, you know the Crab Shack, a barn-red, century-old house nestled into the hillside a few miles south of the marina.

If you know the Crab Shack, you no doubt also know its owner, Randall Miod, better known as Randy, Crawdaddy, or simply Craw.

"The whole community knew Crowe," said his friend Todd Proctor. "I don't care if you drive a Bentley or hitchhike to the beach. You know Crow and you like Crow."

There's always a party at the Crab Shack. Miod was His friends and family said this week that he was a generous, fun-loving free spirit who brought people together and brought out the best in them.

“Drawing out the gold in each person and then letting them see that gold and letting them bring out the best in themselves — Crowe is like a magician who does that with people,” Proctor said.

Miod's mother, Carol A. Smith of Banning, said Miod died at her home as the Palisades Fire swept through Malibu. He is 55 years old.

News of Meod's death triggered waves of grief among a vast network of friends, neighbors and acquaintances who had surfed with Crowe, or crashed on his couch, or had sex with someone who "made you feel like you were the most Good Self" men laughed and talked together late into the night. ", said his friend Michele Ceaser-Germann.

“He just had the ability to bring people together,” Kaiser-Derman said. "He saw the beauty in things that others couldn't see. He was a hardcore person."

Myod (pronounced "my-odd") was born in Los Angeles and raised in the San Fernando Valley, Smith said. He discovered skateboarding and surfing in junior high, and soon was skipping school so often that his mother hid his skateboard.

In the mid-1980s, Proctor, then a scrawny 12-year-old, was surfing at Second Point in Malibu when Meod paddled up and introduced himself. It was the beginning of a decades-long friendship.

“He would take an interest in people, get to know them, nurture them, encourage them and what they liked,” Proctor recalled. “He’s like a big brother and always makes you feel like you’re going in the right direction.”

A few years after graduating from high school, Miod moved to Malibu, finding a room in a ramshackle three-bedroom cabin that stood out among the gleaming homes lining the Pacific Coast Highway.

He earned the nickname "Crawdaddy" due to congenital bone deposits that caused his arms to curve inward like a crustacean. The house soon got its own nickname: The Crab Shack.

The landlord later moved out and put Miod in charge of the property. When he decided to sell it about 15 years ago, friends chipped in to help Meod buy it, Proctor said.

“The door was always open, and he felt like a kindred spirit to surfers, people from different countries, homeless people passing through,” Proctor recalled.

There is a party. There is music. The walls are covered with Proctor’s photographs and abstract paintings. There was a band in the corner where Proctor, the drummer, and the others would jam. There is an aluminum ladder leading to the roof, which offers sea views. There was always a huge second-hand sofa at home, and whenever it wore out, someone would drag in a new one.

Miod never married. He has no children and works in local restaurants to make ends meet. He's the centerpiece of a different kind of family, one whose members share a love for Malibu and surfing and everything that goes with it.

"He became a legend in Malibu," his mother said. "I don't think he ever realized how much everyone loved him and respected him because he was just Randy, the Crowe."

He knew how dangerous primitive life along the coastline could be. He has experienced fires, earthquakes and mudslides. Just this past February, a boulder tumbled down a hillside just inches from his home.

"I was just calmly watching TV and then I heard - snap!" a confused Miod Tell Korean Air.

As the Palisades Fire approached on Jan. 7, Miod called his mother around 3 p.m., saying he could smell smoke. He said he had a hose and was going to fight for his home.

"The last thing he said to me that day was, 'Pray for the Palisades, pray for Malibu. I love you,'" she said.

He stopped responding to text messages after that. On the morning of January 9, Smith received a call from one of Meod's friends saying that human remains had been found among the charred remains of the crab shack. Counting all the roommates, Miod is the only one.

The Palisades Fire destroyed or damaged hundreds of homes in Malibu. One of the first things to rise from the ashes was the legend of Crow.

Tribute paintings appeared on beach walls: "RIP Crawdaddy," "Crab Shack Forever." His friends are planning a memorial service once it is safe to do so. A final reunion centered on Crowe.

When Keyser-German learned of her friend's death, she climbed to the rafters of her West Hills home. She removed a box of keepsakes and began poring over letters and photos commemorating decades of friendship.

Taped to the bottom was a small card she didn't recognize. This is your Chatsworth High School student ID card. Not her own, but Miod's. Crow's. It feels like a sign.

"I know he's looking down right now," she said. "Now, keep your people close. Tell people you love them — now. Don't wait until you can't do it anymore. No one is guaranteed another moment."