Fire! Fire!

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." – Seneca

A friend, who is a retired journalist, recently texted me. “I’m curious what immediate advice you might have for all those in LA who have lost their homes. Emotional advice, I mean.”

She asked that of me, because 33 years ago we lost our home to an arson fire, and several years later, she interviewed me for an article in her newspaper. It’s been days since she made that request and I’ve been hard pressed to come up with a cogent response.

My first thoughts were, These people are in shock. They can’t hear advice, certainly not emotional advice because they don’t have clean underwear, or a crib for their baby, or toys for their kids to play with while they’re on hold with the insurance company, or clothes to wear when they have to show up for work..

What the people who’ve lost their homes, their sense of security, their cocoon in this current crazy time need is shelter, assistance, and assurance that yes, this is a nightmare, but people are here for you, and it’s going to be ok.

My advice is for the people who are dear to the ones who have lost their homes.

1.     Provide or help find immediate/temporary housing for the displaced family.

2.     Collect donations and/or shop for the immediate clothing, medication, and equipment the family needs.

3.     Bring meals or gift cards so they don’t have to think about food.

4.     Help set up a communication network with family and friends of the family that someone outside the affected family manages, freeing the family from answering the same questions or constantly updating, but also helping concerned people.

5.     If finances are an issue, work with relevant faith organizations, nonprofits, or go-fund-me sites to solicit donations.

6.     When the time comes, offer to help price items for the insurance claim, if required.

7.     Listen… if they need to talk, but be patient and understanding if they don’t.

8.     Anticipate what they might need.  They often don’t know themselves in the moment.  If you’re wrong, course correct and don’t have hurt feelings. There’s no user’s manual for this nightmare.

9.     Donate to agencies that are helping.

10.  Right now, open every closet and drawer, and walk around your own house and video its contents. Then send the video to the cloud or keep a thumb drive of it outside your house.

Days later, my thoughts for the individuals and families with lost homes were “Lean into whatever support is available. You are in shock. Let others help. It’s going to be ok, but it doesn’t feel like that right now.

There’s a difference between degrading climate and an intentional criminal act being the reason for the loss of a home to fire, but the violation, the destabilization, and the mourning for loss of security, is pretty much the same.  For me, this interaction, which I wrote into the prologue for my novel Hard Cider, was a defining moment.

There would have been no rescue here!” The Ann Arbor fire marshal held my arm as fiercely as my gaze……. I tore my eyes away from his and tried again to look at the house, still reeking of wet char, a crazy perimeter of crime tape separating the ugly remains of our home from the brilliant June morning.

We’d been out of town the night before, when the fire raged through the house, so we were safe- our children, our dog. In that moment, the horror of the loss became a little less horrible. But something else happened, as I wrote in that prologue.

I began to make eye contact with neighbors and strangers on the street behind me; horror was writ large on their faces. Their looks separated us, the people whose house had been torched, whose worldly goods had vanished, along with our peace of mind, from them—the people to whom this had not happened.

So here is another piece of advice for those hoping to help someone who has lost their home to a fire. It didn’t happen to you. In an effort to be empathetic, don’t place the burden of your fear and horror on the people to whom this DID happen. They don’t have the bandwidth to comfort you right now.

In a terrible synchronicity, the son who was a newborn when our house burned is now living 10 minutes south of the current fire zone. My heart is with you, LA.