Wrong. Those of us who grew up with these winds have always referred to them as Santa Ana Winds. They were called Santa Ana winds long before I was born.
There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.
"Red Wind," 1945
Raymond Chandler (1888-1959)
I don’t know where you live. Are you safe?