I have lived in Los Angeles for over 15 years. I moved here in the fall of 2008 to pursue my dreams and attend journalism school, and like many Angelenos, my goal has always been to make my passion a reality (and pay the rent while doing it). All this against the backdrop of breathtaking blue skies and picturesque palm trees didn’t hurt either.
Having spent my teenage years in the San Francisco Bay Area, it seems almost heretical to call Los Angeles home, but I’m not ashamed. I loudly proclaim that LA is My home is where I and my friends used to be LACMA’s lawn (Courtesy of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art) See Jazz in the Summer; Where I learned that no matter how badly you want to call it Crypto.com Arena, it will forever and always be Staples Center; This is where you can guarantee that no matter how your night goes, the tantalizing, comfortingly familiar scent wafting from the nearest taco stand is never too far away. This is where I internalize that you gun it off the unguarded left turn at Beverly and La Cienega intersection before the light turns red, lest your fellow road ragers burst into a perfectly timed symphony of car horns and brightly colored language.
This vibrant momentum was abruptly interrupted on January 7 when a series of fires swept across the Los Angeles metro area. I am now grappling with an incredible sense of loss, along with many others who have not lost everything, but are teetering on the edge of a new reality where much is lost all the same.
After the Palisades fire, I sat glued to my phone in my apartment in Hollywood, shuffling between Instagram, various live news streams, messages with friends and family, and an app. Watch duty This helped me learn about the developing fire situation.
Watch Duty is a California-based 501(c)(3) nonprofit, nonpartisan organization that relies entirely on volunteer dispatchers, first responders, reporters, scientists and climate experts. It’s a scrappy team, but the app was critical for me — it was the only place I felt I could get up-to-the-minute fire alerts. I hadn’t heard of the app before the fire, and neither had most of my friends and family, but it’s now a must-have on my phone.
LA is prone to fires and wildfires are ever-present in this landscape, but I was surprised by a wildfire in January that ignited outside of what we normally consider California’s fire season. But thanks to climate change, fire season And the geographic distribution of fires is shifting, and in California, these changes Exacerbating the variables that fuel the fire: A wet winter allows for a bumper crop of grasses and shrubs, but then a surprisingly long dry period scorches the landscape, providing ample fuel for wildfires. And then, this year’s Santa Ana winds were especially fierce, driven by unprecedented heat in the Pacific Ocean
I watched with increasing horror as watch duty warnings poured in, each more urgent and dire than the last. The Palisades Fire’s acreage continues to climb steadily. Messages from my mom and brother pinged across my phone screen. are you ok what are you doing Do you pack a bag just in case?
Then came the Eaton Fire.
The devastation of the Eaton Fire hit me on a particularly personal level, partly because I have many friends and connections whose families lost everything there, and partly because the Eaton Fire engulfed Altadena, an area east of downtown LA and one of the oldest historically. Black neighborhoods in Los Angeles.
Altadena is a bastion of financial mobility and generational longevity for middle-class black and brown Angelenos, making it one of Los Angeles County’s most integrated neighborhoods over the years. White flight in the 1950s. In a region where home ownership continues to be one of the most challenging yet Effective methods for building and maintaining financial security For individuals and families of color, and when you consider that fact The home ownership gap between black and white homeowners It remains the largest in over a decade, the impact of the Eton fire staggering, to say the least.
A few days later, Sunset Fire arrived. The fire, burning just north of Sunset Boulevard in the Hollywood Hills, began to spread quickly due to high-intensity winds that were already battering the Palisades and Northeast LA. I scanned the watch duty map in bewilderment as Level 2 and 3 evacuation alerts, marked by yellow- and red-colored zones indicating county-issued evacuation orders, sprang up around me.
Colors inched closer and closer to my block. A mandatory evacuation zone was now three blocks from my apartment. My anxiety climbed, heart raced and head pounded as my jaw clenched tightly. Wednesday evening I called my brother in Culver City. I think I need to leave the place, I told him. can i come stay with you
I threw clothes, electronics, toiletries and my passport together in a suitcase the night before. I checked the contents of the bag before getting into my car and before driving into town, stopped at a gas station along the way. There was a palpable sense of dread and panic. The wind, heavy with fog and a dim yet distinctly orange cast made my eyes and throat itch and burn. Fellow drivers hurriedly filled their gas tanks, their faces shielded by n95 masks as smudged ash particles fell on our shoulders like toxic snowflakes.
If this is doomed, I thought, at least my brother is safe (for now). At least my parents are safe (for now). I’ll find a way to replace my stuff.
Arrived in Culver City, spent. The evening was hazy. I fell asleep on my brother’s couch in a heap of exhaustion and frustration, wondering when – or even if – I would be able to return home.
The next morning, I returned to the Watch app, where I attended a press conference featuring LA Fire Department Chief Christine Crowley and Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass. Crowley reported significant damage to the Palisades and Eaton fires, but also said the Sunset fire is under control.
I feel encouraged. Relief. grateful But also: angry. devastated Suspicious hopeful pessimistic Confused terrified totally tired
On Thursday night, I returned to my place. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life. I diligently scrolled social media, where I encountered a confusing array of different realities. Some friends were posting tearful, painful videos about what they lost — their homes, vehicles or family heirlooms. Some have lost everything. Others were displaced but returned home safely, sharing evacuation resources from local mutual aid organizations. Some had fled south or east to Long Beach, San Diego or Palm Springs and were still there, unsure of what their next steps might be.
I was safe in my couch, but I didn’t feel safe at all.
This catastrophic fire raised questions for me about the true meaning of home. What does it actually mean to call a place home? How can we reconcile the physical structure of the house in which we keep our most valuable possessions, as well as the larger, vaguer, more mysterious essences that connect us to a place regardless of its physical boundaries?
I am very grateful to have a roof over my head and not lose my home. But thousands were not so lucky. I have the luxury of being unable to fully wrap my mind around LA’s homeless and housing-insecure population, let alone those who have lost everything but have or will have the means to rebuild.
What I realized last week is that we — all Angelenos — are collectively grieving and in the process of rebuilding.
Last week, I was moved to tears by the kindness, humility and ingenuity of the community here. I’ve seen people across all demographics take care of themselves and each other in amazingly kind, tender ways. It gave me a glimpse of an alternative future here: where home is a place where mutual support flows freely, where people use their strengths and talents to work in harmony with each other, and where both our sorrows and triumphs are held in compassionate, gentle About – Answers -South and East-West rivalry be damned.
I don’t know what the future holds for Los Angeles. Civic leaders, community groups and everyday Angelenos are actively exploring these avenues right now I am encouraged. And I’ll be there too, with a street taco in hand.
