The LA fires were not on my radar until I logged into Facebook from my hotel room at the Plaza in downtown Las Vegas earlier this week. I was in town for the consumer electronics show (CES), the annual tech conference that attracts thousands of local, national and international attendees. My West Hollywood friend Bill's post caught my attention: he lives in a beautiful mansion in the Hollywood Hills and was sharing personal updates about the LA Fire and his surrounds.
It wasn’t long before messages started trickling in—my work, friends and acquaintances reaching out to check if I was okay. Fortunately the fires weren’t near my neighborhood in East Hollywood, however it was unsettling to piece together how quickly they had started and were spreading. A quick text into my LA neighbor confirmed that our homes were not, and unlikely to be, in danger. But the overwhelm and emotional ripple effects began to unfold.
My late bf, Zach’s former boss, a Judge at the Santa Monica Law Courts, seemed to confirm via text that she'd lost her home in the Pacific Palisades, "the whole neighborhood is gone." Zach's friends who had recently bought a new home in Altadena close to Morgan's work at the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory had to evacuate, finding refuge with friends. Even Harrington, who lives in West Hollywood, packed up and left with two friends (also living in West Hollywood) and his little dog Diesel for the night in San Diego when he had an order to evacuate. These connections gave the fires a personal weight, though my day-to-day life remained mostly untouched as I continued to battle the crowds at CES.
I flew back into Burbank Airport on Thursday night after my first flight was canceled (unsure why - as others were landing in Burbank). As soon as I stepped off the plane, the smell of smoke hit me—the air quality was noticeably different from Vegas. The taxi ride was swift and quick; the highway was largely empty around 9pm, a welcome and rare incidence. I could smell the smoke inside my home -- the sensory reminder of what’s happening miles away.
Los Angeles County is vast and geographically dispersed, something that might not be immediately obvious to those unfamiliar with the area. The phrase “LA is burning” paints a vivid picture, but the reality is more complex. While some neighborhoods (they call them neighborhoods here, not suburbs like we do in Oz) are grappling with evacuation orders and destruction, other parts of the city feel untouched, like it’s just another week. The contrast is evident in this situation, but it’s also emblematic of how this city works—layered, sprawling, and full of parallel lives.
The fires have stirred plenty of conversations about responsibility and readiness, alongside the inevitable swirl of conspiracy theories about how they started. But for the people who’ve lost their homes, the focus is clear: What happens now? How do you rebuild after everything has been reduced to ash? There will inevitably be a lot of red tape in this process; and ripple effect for me, even though I was not directly impacted. Whether it’s housing markets, infrastructure strains, rising insurance premiums, or shifts in how we live alongside wildfire risks, I’m sure to feel those reverberations so long as I live in this city.
As a homeowner, this tragedy does question the notion of 'stability'. I’ve been fortunate that my home still stands this time, but tomorrow? The unpredictability of fires in Southern California (and elsewhere, such as my home country) and the precarious nature of life itself, serves as a constant undercurrent of unease. Naturally, Zach's untimely death proved how rapidly things can spiral and turn on a dime.
One moment, you’re in Vegas marveling at the future of technology; the next, you’re bracing for news of how close disaster has come to your doorstep. With the LA fires we're witnessing how fleeting comfort can be. If nothing else, this week has driven home the importance of vigilance and safety; and for the parts of life that remain steady amid chaos.
One thing I know for sure. Zach would have had plenty to say about it. As an LA native, he was born and bred in this city. He loved it. And his community was on the West side (earlier note about his boss losing her home in the Pacific Palisades). I miss this about him. Our discourse, his local knowledge, and intellectual integrity. And I'm reminded that while the fires rage on in this city, so does my grief and mourning for the man who kept me here.
Disclaimer -- unlike my usual modus operandi where I write all my blog content, the above post was initally generated from ChatGPT. I typed in a series of prompts and information, asked it to write in my usual blog post style, then spent a good time editing the generated result.
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