Where Do We Go From Here?

I always want to say the right thing, but sometimes I don’t know what that is.

Today is one of those days.

Normally, I’m fuming and/or fretting over preventable fires in long-empty buildings.

Wildfires are very, very different.

Wildfires don’t respect wealth, status, or your zip code. They are equal-opportunity destroyers (although wealthier enclaves are more likely to have a deep-pocketed neighbor paying for private firefighters if they can find any).

I am utterly sickened by the sadistic glee exhibited by the monstrous individuals celebrating the fires. NO ONE, rich or poor, famous or unremarkable, deserves to lose their home, their possessions, their important documents, and in some cases even their pets.

It’s not just a house and it’s not just stuff - it’s your memories, your sense of security, and your sense of home. Living in temporary housing (whether it’s a hotel, an RV, or a friend’s couch) is not the same thing as having a permanent home. It really doesn’t feel good after a while, especially when it drags on indefinitely.

While there is great wealth in Los Angeles, there is also great wealth disparity. Yes, celebrity mansions have gone up in flames - but so have modest family homes in Altadena that, in some cases, have been owned by the same family for multiple generations. So have smaller homes in the canyons. Where will those households go?

My old apartment building in Santa Monica is close to the mandatory evacuation zone line (west of 10th and just south of Montana) and still under an evacuation warning as of this writing. That neighborhood basically consists of apartment buildings. If the Palisades fire spreads into Santa Monica, thousands MORE people will be displaced - many from rent-controlled apartments they’ve lived in for a long time. Where will my former neighbors go?

Thousands of displaced Angelenos of all income levels are about to be competing for an ever-shrinking supply of rental housing. The more affluent ones will be able to afford whatever the market will bear. Some of the poorest renters may very well find themselves squeezed out in favor of those who can pay more.

Yes, we can rebuild. But that takes time. It takes money. Some households will never see an insurance check due to insurance companies’ diabolical decision to abruptly cancel many policies ahead of a very dry winter. They are likely to be targeted by “investors” who are already salivating at the prospect of snapping up their fire-scarred land for a relative pittance. (Yes, there are people who prey upon others after tragedies. A similar horde of parasites relentlessly bombarded my phone with nuisance calls when my grandmother died, and I wasn’t even her executor.)

Fire cleanup, permits, securing funding, competing for builders or waiting for them to become available, getting inspections (which happens on the bureaucrats’ timeline, not yours)…it will very likely take YEARS to recover. I sincerely hope the people rebuilding will include housing for Angelenos of all classes (but I’m not holding my breath).

Still, amidst the toxic ash and smoke, there is hope. A lot of good people are pitching in to help evacuees and people who have lost their homes. Need horse boarding, car storage, a hot meal, a hot shower? Someone else in greater LA, right now, has you covered.

Where do we go from here?

Be good to each other. Do what you can. Be extra patient with each other; you don’t know what someone is going through. Check the filters in your air purifier. Check on your homeless neighbors. Check on that elderly neighbor who doesn’t have any family nearby. Contact a mutual aid group and ask if they need donations or volunteers. Make sure you have a “go bag” ready in case any of the fires spread closer to you.

And remember: you can do everything right in your life and still lose your home in an instant due to circumstances you can’t control. Be kind to those who don’t currently have a home (this is REALLY not the time to tell someone it could have been worse).

We’re Angelenos. We’re known for being innovators, brilliant creatives, blue-sky visionaries…and hard workers. We can get through this together.

It’s not going to be easy. But nothing worth doing ever is.

Stay safe, everyone.