Turning Tragedy into Opportunity
I felt a quiet surge of excitement course through my body when I received an early morning text: The New York Times article was finally published! I glanced at it online before dashing off a few texts and emails to spread the news to our team at heartrising.org. “Look! Their story has been told! Our family is in the news!”
“Our family” is the Rocha family, who got burned out in last year’s Almeda Fire. They had a newborn at the time, as well as two teen-aged children. I met the family a few months after the fire as I set about organizing a team of about a dozen people to look for ways to support and befriend the family during their time of need.
As an ex-journalist, I remember the elation of seeing words in print. Whether it was a story I’d helped research at the London bureau of the New York Times, or an article I’d spent hours writing for U.S. News & World Report, I always felt the same undeniable thrill. I’d re-read and savor the birth of the story, holding it in my hands, and marveling at how its rawness and beauty tied me to humanity.
My husband James, also an ex-journalist, immediately understood when I asked him to go with me to the grocery store so I could buy a copy of the paper with the article: “Wildfire Took These Families’ Homes. Here’s Why They Stay.” Having worked for The Sunday Times of London for 20 years, he could relate to my desire to feel the fragile pages and hear them rustle as I unfolded the paper. In much the same way as before eating a delicious meal, we feasted our eyes on the four-page spread laid out across the kitchen table. I made a cup of coffee and as they say in the UK, “got stuck in.”
The journalist who wrote the article, Aidan Gardiner, and the photographer, Rachel Bujalski, had flown to the Rogue Valley months ago to interview families who had survived the Almeda Fire that in 24-hours destroyed 3,000 homes and businesses. Many people have left the Valley since, but most have remained, camped out in hotel rooms, hastily acquired RVs, or temporary FEMA housing units. Some fire refugees are no doubt overstaying their welcome on a neighbor’s couch or in a renovated garage. Other people with money have managed to rebuild as the clean-up continues.
I took a picture and sent it to the Rochas to celebrate; I was so proud of them. I’m holding the paper, smiling as I wear the sombrero from Mexico gifted to me by Martin, the father of the family. The family has been generous to our team, reciprocating with gifts from Mexico and handmade cheese from their workplace, Rogue Creamery. What a triumph that this generous, hard-working family has not only survived, living in a warehouse apartment provided by their employer, but against all odds, they have thrived.
Each month our team would stay in touch, making handmade cards of support and delivering gift certificates for gas and groceries. We elected two members to be points of contact and relay back what the family needed. We delivered quilts and heaters in the winter months, watermelon and chocolate chip cookies in the summer months. We celebrated birthdays and arranged for a camping trip in the mountains. We found a stove for them through Active Appliance in Grants Pass, who donated and delivered it with efficiency and grace. One 78-year-old woman on our team found a used car and paid for it. This enabled the family to run errands with the baby, and made it possible for their daughter, Dani, to learn to drive. She’d already risked driving the enormous truck they had, which she bravely drove out of the fire with only a learner’s permit. Her father was at work and her mother cannot drive: She was shaking and could barely see over the steering wheel!
“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”
― Confucius
In the end, of course, it wasn’t any of the material or monetary donations that mattered, but the friendship we’ve forged and the stories that have been told. Early on I invited my family and the circle of women I am a part of to get to know la familia and offer assistance. We held a number of Zoom meetings and in-person discussions at our circle to understand what would help. I also talked with my family to see how to navigate this very special and layered relationship.
Navigating the barriers of COVID and language was an intricate dance. For instance, we wanted to meet outside with the familia one night, inviting Team 4 and the Rocha’s, but the wind became too strong and we had to move the party to our garage. We opened the windows and doors and strung up some Christmas lights. We located an old Santa suit and put out some cider and mugs. We wrapped up our gifts and asked our musician neighbors, Jeff Pevar and Inger Nova Jorgensen, if they would come and play a song to spread some cheer.
The highlight of the night was when Martin spontaneously agreed to dress up as Santa and deliver gifts, while I announced his entrance with sleigh bells. Everyone laughed and the baby was photographed visiting with Santa on his first Christmas.
I cried as I read the article in the newspaper over and over again the day after it came out. What a wild ride it has been, witnessing the resilience of the family and of our little Valley. as people have pulled together to heal the collective traumas of the fire. I watched as 208 comments were added to the article. Many debated the wisdom or the folly of people rebuilding after reoccurring natural disasters like fires and floods. Others wondered where they could donate, so I started a GoFundMe page and added it to the comments section. Still others saw and savored that which keeps us tethered during times of tragedy: family, community, and kindness.
I left my own comment to the story as well: “I feel privileged to have met and assisted the Rocha family through an organization called heartrising.org. The experience has changed my life, and I feel lucky to be able to help people in my community. A whole new world has opened up to me in terms of bridging the gap between the White and Hispanic communities here. With my daughters teaching me more about Black Lives Matter, I have come to see how separate our communities are. Yes, I teach communication at a healthcare organization where about half the employees are Latino but who do I really share life's ups and downs with? Who do I eat and laugh with?
My women's circle and my family agreed to help the Rocha family such as we could—still there is the question of housing. With their baby soon to be walking, they need space... a small yard. There is simply no affordable housing here. Yet there is a loving, connected community and that is why people are staying. The fire has given us an opportunity to weave the community back together in new and different ways.
I feel honored to have been a part of the rebuilding, even in a small way. I have felt and seen the love of people helping people, with respect, reciprocity, and love. And I've been able to learn to speak Spanish in the process. Twice a week I meet with a teacher in Guatemala on Zoom who, since COVID, has worked online. The Rochas are patient with me as I speak my fledgling Español to them, and tenderness abounds.”
I saw this morning that Dylan, el bebé precioso de la familia, took his first steps last night. La madre, Maricela, sent me a video of the occasion, which they posted proudly on Facebook. I feel happy to be included in such basic life milestones, and happy to be a part of their family and community in such simple and sweet ways. What a privilege to know that resilience, values and small actions matter. For me, this coming together and connection is the essence of humanity, the very stream of life that carries us all.
If you would like to help the Rocha family to find and fund a home for themselves so they can stay in the Rogue Valley, please donate to their GoFundMe page. Thank you!
