Article: 'A Love Letter to Past and Present Homes on Fire' Our CEO's Personal Account of the LA Fires

'A Love Letter to Past and Present Homes on Fire' Our CEO's Personal Account of the LA Fires
Laura Hertz, our Co-founder and CEO gives a very personal account of the loss of her community in The Palisades and her escape from the Eaton Fire near Altadena.
You know that feeling when you get home from a long trip and you’re excited to turn up your street because you’re almost home? So you press on the gas smiling because you can’t wait to open your front door and finally be home?

This photo (By Ethan Swope, AP) is what that drive for me looked like this week – fire engulfing both sides of the road... For the last 8 years, the Pacific Palisades was the place my family called home.
The photo below is of my old home. Gone forever. My memories turned to dust. The place I came home to after my wedding day, the place I lost the doggie love of my life, the place I found out I was finally pregnant.
My husband is a first responder. He was one of the first people allowed into the Palisades this week. Because of that, I delivered the news to 17 of my neighbors and friends that their homes were gone.
It feels like delivering the news of the loss of a loved one. The death not just of their home, but the death of the proof of their life. The loss of their childhood photos, the death of their cats and dogs who were left home that day, the loss of their Grandmother’s ring, the things they wanted to one day give to their grandchildren.
I’ve deeply mourned the loss of close friends and family, and of my first real (human) love. But this loss is different. It’s the loss of my community, my home, my daily routine for 8 years. My favorite Thai restaurant my family gets take out from every week, my nightly walk with my dog (the mile stretch has one lone house standing), the loss of my quaint little dog store, my local pharmacy, the school where I threw the ball for my dogs every night, my favorite park, my weekend hiking trail, my weekly Sunday farmers market, my nail salon where I’m left wondering what my friend Jenny will do for work now, my favorite Italian restaurant where the owners knew my name and my order when I walked in the door, my favorite dry cleaners, Ronny’s, where my dog dragged me every night even when they were closed to grab her daily dog biscuit from the owner who received more Christmas cards from neighbors than anyone I had ever seen—each proudly taped around his shop as the decor used for his shop’s walls (Ronny walked across the street to work every morning for over 30 years to open his little shop, burned to the ground this week).
People say to be grateful I am alive. But I can’t begin to be close to gratitude yet as I can’t comprehend the loss of our community and the homes of all of my neighbors and friends. We no longer have a neighborhood, a school, a downtown, or a community and I am gutted to the core.
People talk about the Palisades and all you hear is the wealth and celebrities and the talk of the place where “Hollywood’s elite” live. But that’s just not who we are. We are also a small beach town who love to hike and get our feet dirty. We talk to every neighbor we pass on the road with a smile and we have 20 or so modest apartment buildings and a mobile home community.
I was lucky enough to be among the working class of LA who lived in the Palisades. Along with my neighbors, we were probably among the last Angelenos who lived walking distance from the beach, in a decent rent controlled apartment for under $2,000 a month.
My next door neighbor worked at a cigar shop in Santa Monica. He was a musician. Every night I heard him play his guitar. Every Thursday, his band played from our deck overlooking Sunset Boulevard. Every year for 28 years he had our whole building over for our 4th of July fireworks and a BBQ.
My upstairs neighbor, Susan, was the mother of the building and our glue. She knew what everyone was up to. She was in her mid 70’s and had her own jewelry store on Etsy. She had lived in the building for 24 years. When her neighbor, a young mother, started doing drugs, she took over the child care duties for her daughter and raised her daughter for her. Susan left food every day for the neighborhood cat. She loved animals so much that she organized the annual animal drive for Malibu and Palisades. She literally spent weeks rescuing butterflies when their wings were broken and they could no longer fly… you heard me right… BUTTERFLIES (!!!)
When the fires happened and Susan lost everything she owned, the first thing she asked me was if my husband could go to the area of our old apartment to leave food and water for Koa–the neighborhood cat. When I heard my apartment building was gone, the thing that worried me most was what would happen to that poor little girl Susan was helping to raise if she was separated from her…
Other neighbors of mine were nurses, government workers, plumbers, and construction workers. Three people in my building were a family– a daughter, mother, and father. The daughter lived in the bottom unit (about 100 square feet) without a shower. She would shower in her parent’s apartment; our landlord said it was the only way she could afford to live in LA.
My neighbors in the Palisades were people of modest means, diverse people of all races and backgrounds who wanted to live close to the beach at an affordable price.
A couple months ago I moved from my home in the Palisades across LA to an area near Altadena–where the other big fire, the Eaton Fire, is–to be closer to my sister and her family.
On Tuesday night my sister called me screaming. She said to run out of the house with my baby. She said the fire was close to us and she didn’t know how much time we had. “Don’t pack, just run”, she screamed. Just look out your dining room window.”
My husband, a first responder, thought she was overreacting. But I looked at him and said, “go look out the window. Can we see it?” He looked at me sternly without raising his voice and said “Oh my god. It is time to leave Laura. We need to get in the car.”
I grabbed my baby, wrapped a towel around his head, and ran outside into 90mph winds. It felt like a tornado, dust through my eyes. Branches snapping around me. I could barely breathe, my mouth filled with smoke and dirt. We got in the car. There were downed power lines everywhere, light poles snapped in half, branches and downed trees blocking every block.
We were lucky enough to get out safely. Our home has smoke and ash damage, we can’t use the water, we have downed trees, broken fences. We’re navigating FEMA and the horrible world of insurance like everyone else.
Right now, I’m having deep survivor’s guilt. My friends and neighbors have lost everything. Many are moving away from LA, starting over their lives, wanting a fresh start already less than a week into this disaster.
I'm a founder and entrepreneur. I have a very hard shell as a human. It’s hard to shake me and I know how to react and keep my cool in emergencies and quickly get back to business as usual after major losses and traumas. But I am shaken. To. My. Core.
I can barely respond to an email. I can’t sleep and I’m having nightmares. I can’t imagine having a meeting at work… and also, how can I? I’m displaced from my home and I have no child care. No quiet place to send an email. I’m in a house with 5 adults, 4 children, a newborn baby, and an 85 pound dog with special needs.
Last night, when my 8 year old niece drew a picture of her home burning down with the words “help!” my heart sank deeper into my chest. Here in Los Angeles, our poor children are scared. This is traumatic. They will remember this like I remember 9/11 as a child growing up in New York.
If there’s one thing I am seeing, though, that’s keeping me going and giving me the light to keep walking in this deep darkness it is the goodness of humanity. The friends who haven’t talked to me in years are reaching out offering their support. The strangers who spent hours helping me take a downed tree off of the power line in our yard. Volunteer centers that have reached their maximum sign ups, donation centers that can no longer accept donations because they have all of the essential goods they requested.
But there is so much more that needs to be done. So many more people that need help. Our community is hurting and we are not all celebrities. We are normal, everyday, people scraping by with an insanely high cost of living in our city. Many of us who were once people of modest means are now without a pair of shoes or pajamas or a roof over our heads or food for our children.
So how can people help?
While there are many options, we've compiled a list of organizations we know to be reputable and effective in dealing with the aftermath of this unprecedented natural disaster.
The CA Fire Foundation is working with local fire agencies and community-based organizations to provide direct financial support to impacted residents as details of the damage emerge. The California Fire Foundation also provides critical support to surviving families of fallen firefighters, firefighters and the communities they serve.
The LAFD Foundation provides vital equipment and funds critical programs to help the LAFD save lives and protect communities.
World Central Kitchen is supporting first responders and families impacted by wildfires in the Los Angeles area with nourishing warm meals to those impacted.
California Community Foundation‘s Wildfire Recovery Fund focuses on mid-term and long-term recovery efforts for those affected by the fires.
Pasadena Community Foundation‘s Eaton Canyon Fire Recovery and Relief Fund is mobilizing local resources to support resilience and immediate and long-term recovery initiatives in the L.A. County cities of Pasadena and Altadena.
Project HOPE is on the ground in Los Angeles in response to the historic fires, which continue to decimate communities and displace tens of thousands of people. Their emergency team is assessing the needs at local shelters and prepared to support health workers and marginalized communities to fill the gaps in needs for shelter, critical supplies, mental health care, and other critical needs.
The American Red Cross is working alongside its partners to provide shelter, food, emotional support and health services.
The Salvation Army Southern California Division is working with government and nongovernment agencies to provide food, personal necessities and shelter to survivors and first responders, said Melinda Lankford, communications and marketing direction for organization’s Southern California Division.
The Lange Foundation operates in Southern California serving animals in need. They are working to help displaced companion animals by providing temporary boarding/fostering, medical care, food and supplies.
If your company is looking to give to charity in honor of your clients and employees to support the thousands of families impacted by the LA wildfires, we have set up our own Los Angeles Wildfire Relief Fund that will be distributing funds to many of the organizations listed above, depending on the urgency of need, and the ever changing requirements on the ground as our communities recover from this disaster. We've added this fund as a Charity Impact option on our GIFTforward platform, so if you are currently running a gift campaign with us, or have one starting soon, your recipients can choose to redeem their gift value towards this important cause if they choose to.
Thank you to each and every person here in LA, across the country, and around the world who are reaching out to help our community or sending texts to loved ones or long lost friends affected by this disaster. We need your support now more than ever. Thank you on behalf of all of us here in LA.
The winds are supposed to pick up tonight (Jan 14). I, like many others, am terrified. Please, if nothing else, keep our beautiful city in your thoughts and prayers. We need them now more than ever.
With a grateful and aching heart from the city of angels,
Laura