The Part We Don't See

I wrote about the fire that burned through Altadena – and my house with it – the day after it happened. It was an immediate reaction and reflection without real forethought. I had never imagined how I would feel if a wildfire tore through my town, so my writing was as much about gauging my own response as it was sharing with others. My words were also completely uninformed by what would come next in the weeks and years that would follow. At the time, I thought there was too much uncertainty to even consider it. It’s now been about a month since the fire. The world at large has moved on. I don’t mean that in a negative way. Everyone has their own challenges to deal with, likely some mixture of smaller day-to-day ones and then bigger ones that could be beyond a house burning down. The details of the aftermath and recovery from a disaster like this are necessarily left to those that are picking up the pieces, I think. Having been on this side of the disaster, though, I do feel some guilt that this is how I’ve approached similar events in the past that didn’t affect me directly. I don’t know if it was a lack of curiosity, interest or care (any of those options reflect poorly on me), but I never really asked what happened in impacted communities when the world moves on. This isn’t going to be a running series on the wildfires in Altadena, but I wanted to finish my thoughts by sharing a perspective on what is happening in Altadena a month later. It represents an evolution in my attitude towards the changes we are seeing on our planet, and how we will or will not be able to live with them.

Four weeks later, some of the uncertainty and questions I had the day after the fire have been resolved. I found this one out quickly, but I now know what’s in my insurance plan that I setup six years prior when we purchased the house and then immediately forgot about as the automatic payments kicked in (not proud of this). I understand the ongoing, years-long negotiation with the insurance company that will play out to try to extract every dollar we need to help us with the next steps. Fortunately, I know where we will live for the next couple years. I know that the recovery to something like normalcy will not be a quick process. A year is out of the question, two years is optimistic but bordering on realistic, and three to four is correctly managing expectations. I said that these are resolved – maybe that’s the wrong way to put it. They are all pieces of data that will go into answering the biggest question that remains: ?rebuild or relocate?

In the aftermath, there is too much information but not enough good information. There are town halls, webinars, websites, Facebook groups, Slack channels, email threads, group chats. All sharing the same basic information but interpreted – often misinterpreted – and then shared in a way that piles noise upon noise onto the signal. I know I must sift through these piles to find the information I need. Then, I feel an obligation to inform my friends and neighbors if I am successful, yet in doing so, run the risk of further exacerbating the information overload for others. To answer the question of whether to rebuild, there are some basic informational needs: 1) How much will it cost to rebuild? 2) How much money do we have to rebuild? 3) How much is our land now worth if we decide to sell and relocate? 4) Do we have enough money for living expenses as the rebuild takes place? Answering those questions relative to how much you still owe on the house that has burned down gives the financial answer to the question.

But the other part of the answer to the question “rebuild or relocate” is where I have learned most about the response to disasters like this. There are broader implications for insurance, taxes and disaster relief, but I now know with certainty the impact of these events and the burden of response gets absorbed at the community and family level. It is unsurprisingly difficult. There is soft – although sometimes hard - pressure from neighbors and community members to commit to rebuilding. I think we all want to see Altadena as it once was and envision a future where our neighbors have all returned. I want the same but recognize a selfishness in my thinking. I want to have the best options available to me. If we choose to rebuild, I want to be surrounded by the neighbors we know and love and not empty lots. On the other hand, I don’t want to be pressured into rebuilding if it doesn’t make financial sense or isn’t what my family wants. I both want my neighbors to rebuild and don’t want to feel obligated to rebuild.

?While this is happening, there is little new information on other factors to consider. As a scientist working on similar questions, although in a different field, I can make some assessment of the likelihood this will happen again or at least know where to find it. My neighbors and friends ask me about this. The truth is that we can make only projections and provide ranges while everyone wants predictions and certainty. I know our house will be built differently and at least better prepared to withstand a future wildfire. But I also know that the insurance company we are working with will likely drop us as soon as they are legally able. Blanketing over top of this – and perhaps most important of all – are my kids and how they will process moving back to the same plot of land where their house had burned down. How will they react the next time there is a windstorm in Altadena?

?To answer the question I pose, at least as it stands now, we are planning to rebuild. Altadena is home for us. My kids want to rebuild. We love our neighbors and our friends and will help them in any way we can going forward. We’ll continue to evaluate and assess our initial decision in the coming weeks and months. As scientists, we discuss uncertainty, probability, likelihoods and make projections of the future. This work is important, but when it comes down to it, there is an up-down, yes-no decision that someone must make on how to plan and prepare for the future. Are we giving communities and families the information they need to make those decisions? Are the best guidelines and guardrails in place to support and steer decision-making? There are many scientists working to produce better information and many others working to deliver this information in a way that is truly helpful. Finding ways to fight through the noise and deliver clear signal to people that need it will continue to be one of the most important things we can do to prepare for the changes that are already underway. In the meantime, let’s hope for the right outcomes for places like Altadena that are working through these challenges now.