
In the past two weeks, I have vacillated between worrying, praying, packing, more worrying, attempting to bribe G-d into stopping the devastating Los Angeles-area fires, and incessantly checking my phone for everything ranging from evacuation updates and air quality to collection campaigns.
Natural disasters naturally back us into a corner, and no matter where we live in LA, there were few in our City of Angels who were not in survival mode recently, at least mentally. If we were not worried about our homes, we were worried over hazardous air quality. If we forgot about air quality, we worried about tap water contamination. We wondered whether we could resume work, when schools would re-open, and if LA would ever be the same again.
If we were not worried about our homes, we were worried over hazardous air quality. If we forgot about air quality, we worried about tap water contamination. We wondered whether we could resume work, when schools would re-open, and if L.A. would ever be the same again.
The problem with feeling trapped in survival mode is that we inevitably think less about the future. While we all pray that those who have lost homes or businesses are able to rebuild their lives, and that the loved ones of those who died in the fires know love and comfort, here are several other factors to have in mind when we aim to help or pray for the victims of one of the worst calamities our city has ever known:
Pray for the Mental Health of Children Affected by the Fires
Parents who have lost their homes or loved ones are entrenched in grief, which means that adults may not be able to give children the time or resources needed to address mental health. If you had to choose between immediately renting an apartment or paying for your kids to speak with a therapist about losing their home, you would probably pick the former.
Imagine if you were a six-year-old child whose home perished overnight, and who had to watch their mother and father receive everything from used clothes to toothpaste from a shelter, to say nothing of the helplessness the child would feel hearing her parents’ cries. Your bed is gone. Your toys are gone. And in your six-year-old consciousness, you still don’t quite grasp the idea that you can never return home.
Please keep our Los Angeles children in your minds and hearts. May they know tremendous resilience, comfort, healthy bodies and minds, and a return to childhood, one filled with optimism and trust that the proverbial rug of life is not necessarily always pulled beneath one’s feet, or consumed in flames from a single ember and gone forever.
Pray for the Grieving
When he was in his 20s, Randall “Randy” Miod bought an apartment in Malibu that was lovingly called the “Crab Shack.” “It was beyond rustic! He loved that place,” his mother, Carol Smith, told ABC News. “There was always a party … Randy was the party!”
Miod was killed in the Pacific Palisades Fire. He was 55. His last words to his mother were, “Pray for the Palisades and pray for Malibu. I love you.”
Anthony Mitchell was an amputee in a wheelchair. He lived with his son, Justin, who had cerebral palsy and was also in a wheelchair. Father and son lived in Altadena. They were waiting for an ambulance to take them out of their home during the Eaton Fire. Both died in their home.
Anthony’s daughter, Hajime White, told ABC News that her father knew he had to evacuate and called to tell her he loved her. “Baby, I got to go. The fire is in the yard,” he suddenly told her. “And that’s the last words I have from my dad,” said White.
What can one even say? No one deserves to perish amid deadly smoke and flames. And here’s more sad news: According to Yale University, there will also be an indirect death toll because of the fires, and in a few years, that toll may end up in the thousands. “The toxic smoke from the fires, combined with disruption to the economy, health care system, and mental health may lead to thousands of deaths over the coming years,” reported Yale Climate Connections.
Pray for the Newly Homeless, Especially the Elderly
Before the once-unfathomable fires, few who lost their homes could have imagined themselves being homeless. One of the biggest misconceptions of the recent fires is that nearly all of the victims were wealthy people who lived in multimillion-dollar mansions. Anyone who has ever driven through the Pacific Palisades knows that there were many homes that were built 50, 60 or even 70 years ago. The owners were second or third-generation residents.
My heart especially breaks for the elderly who lost their homes, whether in the Palisades or Altadena. These are people who may have spent the last 60 years living in the same house. Most of them had probably hoped to pass away peacefully in their homes at a ripe old age, rather than lose everything.
“What most people don’t know is that a lot of the homes are owned by people who can’t afford to live here anymore. They won’t be able to rebuild,” professional beach volleyball player Kent Steffes, whose family moved to the Palisades in 1973 when he was five, told LAist. “They couldn’t afford to get a mortgage on it.”
How could an elderly couple possibly afford the house they once owned at a current market rate? Retirees are meant to enjoy a semblance of rest, peace, and most importantly, security, surrounded by their loved ones and a lifetime of cherished possessions, including photo albums.
I pray for elderly victims of the fire because, quite simply, I worry that they will die of broken hearts.
Pray for Lungs in LA, Including Your Own
New Yorkers still remember the “World Trade Center Cough,” a reference to the long-term damage caused by dust released during the attacks on the World Trade Centers, which contained chemicals such as benzene, asbestos, dioxins, heavy metals, and cement. That dust circulated through the air for months. And while first responders and clean-up crews were its first victims (many died from cancer years after 9/11), the dust spread through many other areas of Lower Manhattan, resulting in what was known as a “third wave of victims”: the general population, including those who lived and/or worked in Lower Manhattan.
Lung cancer took the lives of many 9/11 rescuers and clean-up crews, but unbelievably, first responders also faced a 219% increased risk of developing thyroid cancer. How many Angelenos will become “third wave victims” of the air quality from these dangerous fires?
I have friends who live 25 miles from Malibu, but who still cannot see out of their patio windows due to the dust and ash that have settled there. They don’t know how to clean their windows without the risk of spreading the dust or having it enter their apartments. In the most-affected areas of the fires, ash removal could take years.
Pray for the health of first responders and clean-up crews in LA. And please pray for those who know they should wear masks, but refuse, and especially those who do not know. Last week, I watched a man jog while pushing a stroller with a toddler in it. Neither wore masks. There was a massive black cloud of smoke over our neighborhood from the Palisades fire. The air quality index had been increased to “hazardous.”
Few things chip away more at the soul of a city than a sense of decreased public safety. Our families are avoiding parks. Our first responders are strong, but utterly drained. Looters, scammers, and arsonists have eroded the very fabric of what Angelenos need to feel safe. During COVID, we escaped outside for fresh air. Today, that air seems invisibly toxic.
But here we are, LA strong. We Angelenos are lucky that the best and brightest who often leave their hometowns end up right here, where they arrive believing the LA River is actually a luscious river and the waters of the Pacific Ocean are warm, if not hot. Our city reminds me of an observation by Frank Lloyd Wright, who designed some of LA’s most iconic buildings: “Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles.”
Maybe that includes a few colorful characters. But more than ever, it also means deep hope and even deeper community.
Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael.