Becoming the Neighbor You’ll Need

Born, raised, and living in LA, what’s happening in my city is as personal as personal gets.

Never could I have imagined getting multiple amber alerts in succession, like we did on Tuesday night. Never did I think we’d be packing a “go” bag. Never in my wildest nightmares could the Palisades and Altadena be up in uncontrollable flames. Wildfires, yes, they are common in LA. But in all my life? Never, nothing, not even close to this.

I took this of the Palisades fire, Tuesday at 3:30pm from a block away from our apt.

Countless sleepovers on Alma Real Drive. All the cul-de-sac for all the bike rides. My first communion and weekly CCD classes at Corpus Christi. Sparky’s Yogurt shop for ‘after school snack.’ The Haagen Dazs that the Miller’s dog, Haagen, was named after. The dentist office I got my braces on - and off - at. Brit’s parents house where I had my first kiss at a post-dance party. The Noah’s Bagels Melissa and I retreated to on 9/11. These are all places that are - g o n e .

Everyone in LA is touched by this. Everyone has a story about this week. You either were evacuated like we were, or thought you might be. You either left for work that day without a chance to go back like Harvey, or had only a few minutes to grab and go like Melanie. You’ve either watched the news from your home or a friends house or a hotel or an airbnb. You either shut off your phone or texted everyone you’ve ever known or received those texts. And my God, the horrible truth is, you either lost your home, its completely uninhabitable, or you’ve never been so grateful for the home you were lucky enough to come back to.

There is one shared experience: you needed your neighbor and they needed you. Like never before.

For Kevin and I, we live in a rent stabilized apartment right at the very edge of Santa Monica, just before you head down the hill in Rustic Canyon. We moved here a year and a half ago when Kevin was diagnosed with cancer. I found this apartment because this is my neighborhood, I knew exactly what I was looking for. A 15min drive to Cedars Sinai. A 20min walk from my dad’s house, where I grew up. And a 2min drive from Pacific Coast Highway.

The backdoor of our apartment faces the backdoor of our neighbor Sam’s apartment, she’s the unofficial mayor of our complex. She’s helped connect us to a few folks who live in the building, we’d exchange waves while walking the dog and the passing ‘how ya doing, good to see you.’ And of course the occasional passive aggressive, ‘hey I moved your laundry, it’d been a while.’

But on Tuesday, all that changed.