HOW THE LA WILDFIRES HAVE CHANGED US FOREVER
Have You Wondered
“What are the real luxuries in life?”
We lost so MANY THINGS in the LA wildfires, but togetherness isn't one of them.
In December of 2024, I released an Olive Jar newsletter celebrating a year of wins and a hopeful outlook for the new year ahead. Then on January 7th, a relentless windstorm sweeping Los Angeles catalyzed two unprecedented wildfires in California history, turning thousands of homes into ash. My own local community of Altadena and Pasadena suffered greatly from the Eaton Fire.
Just a few days into the disaster I happened to look back at that December newsletter and found my own words too surreal:
The real luxury of life is togetherness.
I’m doubling down on this.
Even in the midst of tragedy, I couldn’t have been prouder to be a part of the Airbnb community in such a crisis. Clients and hosts from The Olive Jar community poured out their condolences and encouragement to my family, as well as practical support, offering their vacation rentals to us and all of our displaced friends we call family. Whether their home burned down or they simply can’t return to the one that is standing, at the time of this entry so many are still displaced, too many to count.
I never imagined that I’d experience nor be running a business in the fallout of a natural disaster.
Even while our own family was temporarily displaced, recalibrating, and facing many unknowns, I was certain The Olive Jar would step in to join the wildfire relief work. I decided early on that we would leverage our skills & resources, stay true to our values & vision and allow space to expand on our mission.
When I launched The Olive Jar, marketing was (and still is) a gaping hole in the business practices of most vacation rental hosts. We spend every working hour serving hosts with experiential marketing, which is so much more than a set of selling tools.
It’s about human connection. Our connective approach encompasses design, amenities and media content creation that lure travelers into experiential vacation spaces that foster a true sense of belonging, no matter the destination.
The opening image of this blog entry holds deep significance in my life, as it is a glimpse of the home that belonged to my dear friend and Olive Jar collaborator, Bree Lumsden from the MotherWell Movement. For years we hosted countless gatherings around that fire pit (even virtually, for a time in the pandemic). Sadly, this beautiful dwelling burned down. Our family is devastated for theirs; and, in recollecting the memories, I was humbled to hear Bree share that her home was always meant to be an extension of others’ homes.
Since the fires, The Olive Jar mission has naturally expanded.
Wildfire victims are like wandering travelers
just longing to find home again.
Remains of an Altadena home after the Eaton Fire
OUR STORY
It feels like an entire year has passed since we evacuated an unthinkable, now historic, wild fire that has been coined a “fire hurricane."
First, know that we are safe and our home is standing.
And still, layer upon layer of life has changed for our family and our dear community.
On January 7th, our day began at 3 AM, waking up to a crazy windstorm. We cautiously sent our kids to school (which lost power instantly). I was on edge all day. I mustered through to write my January newsletter, but that never got sent.
The sun had just set when we spotted flames in the distance through the trees in our backyard. The Eaton Fire.
What do you pack when you’re ordered to evacuate? It’s still a blur, but I can remember a few…
Grandmother’s wooden spoon
Mug with Morgan Harper Nichols poem "Beautiful Things"
My motherhood journals
Bokksu Japanese snack box
All of these cherished things were given to me—that last one was a 2024 Christmas gift from an Olive Jar client! Still get misty thinking about it.
We didn’t know what was going to happen to our home, but with this windstorm, we knew that fire would not be contained, and our lives were about to change forever.
Before we said goodbye to our home, my husband Jeff and I knelt down with our two girls and said a 30 second prayer. We thanked God for the home we’d been given for the time we had it; how we loved well and were well loved inside these walls; we prayed for the safety of the homes around us and anyone in the path of destruction.
And then, we were out the door.
The next morning we discovered that our 5-year old had stuffed her coat pockets with candy on the way out. Smart girl.
If you've wondered what a day-in-the-life of disaster relief looks like, keep reading.
DAY IN THE LIFE
Our community is fractured while it’s stronger than ever.
Our collective grief is widespread while our shared gratitude is greater.
I don’t have space on the page to tell you what parenting through a natural disaster looks like...
...but if parenting was like walking on JELL-O before this, then parenting in disaster is reaching for a can of whipped cream to get thru the day.
Learning to accept that we are perfectly imperfect in this moment is a real human experience, and thank goodness we have our creativity...plus endless hours of Bluey therapy.
I do share all this with conflicting guilt for sharing anything at all, because we did not lose our home.
But we know A LOT more about disaster impact now. Thousands of residents both inside or outside of the “burn scar” are experiencing the unexpected nuances of its impact first hand every day: PTSD, displacement; lost and struggling businesses; school relocation and complex campus safety issues; poor air quality; decision fatigue; too many and not enough communication channels; misinformation; too much information; disheartening impact on mental health; and, the deepest cut for me—losing friends to relocation so suddenly.
If you've ever been through a disaster yourself, you know about these nuances, and I'd love to hear your story, how you've gotten through it.
One morning I woke up feeling especially powerless. What could I do to contribute that feels like enough? And while ideas of grandiose efforts swirled in my head, I remembered that even the smallest gestures go a long way—and that I knew how to make tomato sauce. So on the first morning back in our home, I got to work making my grandmother’s marinara. Jar by jar, accompanied by a box of spaghetti, my daughter and I delivered door to door, starting with our nearest neighbors who’d returned home as well. They were housewarming gifts that turned into much-needed, extended conversations and hugs.
Then, we just kept making more. At the time of this blog entry, we are still delivering to fire zone neighbors, displaced families and compassionate volunteers—anyone who finds themselves on the complex spectrum of wildfire impact.
It’s palpable now—physical space isn’t the only thing that makes a home a “home”…we need to reconnect and reclaim our belonging.
A NEW KIND OF ECONOMY
The generosity poured out matches (and maybe exceeds) the devastating impact of the fires, lifting the weight off each others' shoulders. Here’s just some of THE GOOD I have seen: meal trains, restaurant donations and new supper clubs; process art classes for kids; "essentials" pop-ups; new businesses formed; pro-bono wellness services; DIY ash-out sifter productions; thousands of GoFund Me pages fulfilled; Amazon wish lists fulfilled; the passing along of off-market rentals; strangers now friends; kiddos comforting other kiddos; so much empathy; extended warm hugs; endless hours of listening to each others' stories; corporate brand giving; in-kind home goods & furnishing donations galore—and far more to come!
Somehow this immense devastation has literally cleared space for us to discover the kind of giving we are truly capable of. It’s been an unexpected gift to see the beauty of our humanity shining through.
there is a new economy rising out of the ashes IN the giving and receiving and giving back all over again.
There is a “new normal” unfoldinG.
Deep in my soul I have HOPE.
THE OLIVE JAR MISSION
As LA Wildfire victims resettle in both temporary and long-term homes, The Olive Jar mission has expanded to rehabilitate and nurture the well-being of our personal, local community with home styling and hospitality support.
Securing funding and volunteer support from local organizations like our faith community, Mosaic, while partnering with our favorite home interior shopping platform Minoan, The Olive Jar will be serving displaced households on a pro-bono basis to furnish new family homes.
Beyond the practical needs of rehabilitation, we take the emotional need seriously. This is our opportunity to support wildfire victims in regaining, and even reimagining, their identity and sense of belonging in a nurtured process of creative self-expression.
High touch hospitality packages will be woven into every household we serve, no matter the project scope. These will be curated with personalized details, layered with story…our way of honoring their many chapters of life well-lived in their old home, their “just for now” home and their future dwellings to come.
AS THE TIMELINE EVOLVES, I’LL SHARE PROJECT UPDATES AND OPPORTUNITIES TO GET INVOLVED.
IF YOU’RE READING THIS FOR THE FIRST TIME, COMMENT THROUGH OUR INSTAGRAM ANNOUNCEMENT AND LET US KNOW HOW YOU’D LIKE TO BE INVOLVED.
Thank you for reading and sharing in this journey with us.
Opening & closing image credit: Anchor Pictures