How could there not be enough water available to fire hydrants?
Why are controlled fires and routine brush clearing not part of normal maintenance in such a fire-prone area?
Who will be held accountable for lapses in fire preparedness and crisis readiness?
The questions came fast, and they were furious, as we all watched one of the most beautiful, desirable living spaces in the United States burn down to rubble over a matter of hours, and then days, and then through an entire week.
Multiple fires sprang up; the Santa Ana winds (and additional wind force created by the fire-heated air) moved the blazes along in a most terrifying fashion, and one could not watch the traumatized families, or view images of an area bigger than the island of Manhattan reduced to utter rubble so completely without feeling true heartache for those whose lives have been so completely upended.
Fred Rogers, of "Mr. Roger's Neighborhood" famously advised his young viewers to "look for the helpers" when chaotic things begin to happen, and it was heartening to log on to social media and find the incredible people moving quickly to offer assistance, however they could. Within a day of the fire Chef Andrew Gruel (@ChefGruel) and his wife Lauren (@LaurenGruel) posted to the "X" platform that their restaurant's huge parking lot would be open to the dislocated: "You can stay as long as you need and camp out. We will provide free meals for all of those affected."
After that, they quickly began coordinating with others. Almost overnight, people began to arrive with relief supplies -- food, clothing, baby formula, diapers, pet food, hygiene products and more.
Then the Amazon delivery trucks appeared as people throughout the country, eager to do what they could to help, used the shopping service to send what they could. The daily postings of the Gruels, (and other small local businesses) showing the donations, the foods, the vans and the helping hands of friends, family and associates as they continually deliver all of it where needed, have been a source of real inspiration. There is a sense of not just purpose but real joy evident in their posts; it's the sort of joy that comes when people are selflessly helping others, joining with strangers to build up what has been torn down.
Rebuilding homes and infrastructure will be on the shoulders of others -- and that for years to come -- but the locals who have taken it upon themselves to coordinate relief to the afflicted have been sustaining the human spirit, so easily wounded and brought low. They've been helping people by rebuilding hope, one meal, one package of supplies, one crate of baby formula and binkies at a time.
We have only just begun the Year of Hope proclaimed by Pope Francis in this time of Jubilee, and these scenes have helped me to define the whole concept of "hope" away from any vague platitudes I might have been tempted to in my prayers or my work.
One of the most perfect descriptions of hope ever written comes to us from Emily Dickinson:
"Hope" is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all
The act of sustaining hope in our sisters and brothers when they are in need is no easy thing. It is heroic, but even more, it is noble in the way that great and honorable acts are so often predicated upon the tiniest things and the littlest ways -- small acts of humanity and love-of-neighbor that arise organically and instinctively, that come without press releases and last more than 15 minutes.
Sustaining hope is something remarkable within humanity, and the Holy Father is right to encourage people of faith to think about hope, learn to recognize hope and be givers of hope.
The devastation of the fires of Los Angeles is teaching us many things about preparedness, management and even about leadership and the value of a two-party system. It is also teaching us about how easy it is to look outside of our own comforts and be generous, especially where we see real need.
Experienced firefighters tell us that the best way to fight a fire is by using an intentionally created and directed blaze to snuff out an advancing conflagration. Perhaps we need to kindle small fires of hope throughout 2025 -- this already challenging year -- in the small places where we live, in our families and our communities and beyond -- and let the flames of constructive hopefulness meet and defeat the infernos of suspicion, malice, distrust and hate that are, undeniably, raging all around us.
