The Whims of Wind, the Capricious Nature of Fire
Thirty years ago, when I was still a rabbinical student, I worked at a Jewish summer camp in northern California. It was a beautiful but isolated, precarious site, built on the San Andreas fault. The camp was separated into two parts – main camp and the kibbutz, an isolated, backwoods site for 60 or 70 middle schoolers. A large field, perhaps a quarter mile long, separated the two parts.
One evening after lights out, we held an all-staff meeting on main camp. Only the bare minimum of counselors remained with the campers. Suddenly, the fire alarm went off. The field between main camp and kibbutz had caught on fire. The campers on kibbutz had no escape, and had just two young counselors with them.
I knew my assignment – watch over the younger boys. They were relatively far from the fire and close to the safety of the main road, but still I felt my adrenaline rush. I listened on my walkie-talkie as two fellow unit heads ran up a hill and past the fire to get to the Kibbutz and move the campers deeper into the woods. I listened on my walkie-talkie as the maintenance and athletic staff fought the blaze with hoses and pails of water.
It took two full hours for the fire department to arrive. By the time they did, the fire was nearly extinguished. No campers were hurt but several staff members were brought to the hospital for smoke inhalation. I can picture my friend, Jake, now also a rabbi but back then an athletic specialist, with ash covering his face, wheezing. While disaster had been diverted, the smell of ash and the sight of charred fields filled us all with the dread of what could have been.
This week, with mounds of snow outside in the DC area, we have listened not on walkie-talkies but on the internet, the television, and the radio to news of the fires in Los Angeles. Neighborhoods, iconic sites and synagogues have burned down. The whim of wind and capricious nature of fire have made the next victims hard to predict.
Some of us have close family and friends in Los Angeles. Some of us even grew up there ourselves. Some of us only know the city through movies or acquaintances. Watching from afar makes us feel fearful, vulnerable, and powerless to help. What can we do?
Reach out to our friends and family, acquaintances, and colleagues in the Los Angeles area and let them know we are thinking of them. Don’t forget friends in our area with close relatives in California. I’ve reached out to several people and, although a small gesture, it makes somebody feel less alone.
Look out for ways to volunteer, even from afar. Although it might not be clear how to help now, I feel certain that opportunities will present themselves. Perhaps it will be something organized or perhaps it will be something more impromptu for a friend or work colleague.
Donate money. This recovery is going to be expensive. I’ve listed three possible organizations below.
After the fires are extinguished and the rebuilding begins, there will be time to consider and investigate what lead to this disaster. Although the particulars are not certain yet, undoubtedly our changing environment and climate have been a contributing factor. We will need to raise our voices for the environment and sensible environmental policies, not just the week after the fires but a month, six months, a year and more after.
If you have close family and friends in Los Angeles, as so many of us do, may they be safe and feel the support of community at this difficult time. Please do reach out if you would like to talk or if you hear of ways that Beth Chai can help out.
