I wasn't sure the baby was breathing when I picked him up from his soot-covered crib. He was limp. I held him tightly and made my way through the smoke to the open window.
My husband had gone in the other direction to get our 3-year-old little girl. He put her on the roof of the concrete front porch and made his way to us through the smoke to make sure we made it out.
I could see the fire was under the back porch roof, and I didn’t know if it would hold my weight if I climbed out. I had no choice; the stairs and first floor were engulfed in flames.
That was August 1978, over 45 years ago. All four of us survived physically, but the fires in Los Angeles have brought back the terror and fear I felt then. We lost our house on Kennebec Street in Greenfield and everything we owned. Yet, we were so lucky!
We had family and friends and neighbors all around us who showed up with clothes and diapers, a place to stay, food and love to get us through the following year of rebuilding. We were surrounded by resources even as we mourned the loss of our first home.
My husband had just renovated our daughter’s room, putting in a large closet, painting and mounting all her little Easter bonnets on the wall. Our son’s room had a newly refinished floor, new paint, furry carpet and stacks of gifts from the baby shower my colleagues at Oliver High School had for me. All gone.
The very day of our fire, those same colleagues began collecting clothes and household goods to help us get back on our feet. They asked what we needed and supplied it.
One friend whose husband owned a clothing store obtained all my husband’s sizes and sent him a completely new outfit, so he could get back to work teaching at Central Catholic High School.
Another friend wanted to know our daughter’s favorite toy, so she could replace the exact one. The teachers and students at Central Catholic took up a collection to buy whatever we needed.
All the neighbors in the Pacific Palisades area of Los Angeles share the same fate. Everyone needs clothes; everyone needs shelter; everyone needs a hot meal and a hot bath.
If our house fire had been of the magnitude of the Los Angeles fire, not only would our home have been destroyed but Oliver High School, Central Catholic, that men’s clothing store and all the neighboring houses as well. Who would be left to help?
An ambulance took us to the emergency room. We walked in barefoot, in our nightclothes, blackened by the soot and grime of the fire. Our baby was taken from my arms and rushed to Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh of UPMC, where he was given a blood gases test and kept overnight.
The Red Cross showed up even before my parents, giving us cloth bags filled with necessities like combs and toothbrushes, soap and a washcloth. How welcome those things were! How I took them for granted on a daily basis! I hope the Red Cross has enough of those precious bags for everyone in California.
The fire marshal said he believed the fire started in an “instant-on TV.” Remember those? They had tubes that stayed hot.
We were back in our home 10 months later. Though many things were not replaced — or replaceable — we were together, healthy and home again.
I don’t foresee the residents of Pacific Palisades getting back to normal in 10 months. Maybe 10 years?
Perhaps if we work together and donate to the charities doing the work on the ground, the victims of this American tragedy will find hope that things can get back to normal.
Most of us see this tragedy and want to help. If you don’t know individuals who need your help, give where it will do the most good — Red Cross, Catholic Charities, World Central Kitchen, Humane Society of the United States, Save the Children and others.
Americans are big-hearted, charitable people who see needs and want to satisfy them. Hope and charity are two things we still have in abundance, and our California brothers and sisters need them now.
Rosemary McLaughlin (rosemarymclaugh@gmail.com) is a freelance writer from Pittsburgh.
First Published: January 29, 2025, 10:30 a.m.
Updated: January 30, 2025, 8:02 p.m.