Surviving Fire And Fear | Psychology Today

Source: Alli Spotts-De Lazzer

It is Wednesday, January 8, around 9 p.m. My family and I are watching television coverage of the nearest fire in Los Angeles. The mandatory evacuation area ends about a mile away and the flames are moving away from us. My husband tells me he is confident the fire will not reach us.

Suddenly he says, “What is that?”

Orange flickers in the reflection of the window. (It seems illogical that it could be a fire, as we are too far away for an ember to reach us. There is hardly any wind!)

Fortunately, he steps forward, phone in hand. Loudly and calmly he says, “Fire.”

I walk behind him and look up. A wall of orange flames envelops the house on the left, across our street, about thirty feet away.

My husband calls 911. We hear bangs, like explosion sounds. House #1 is now throwing flames at House #2 across from us. I hear him shouting to get the attention of the people in House #2.

In my socks I walk towards the neighbors on the dead end road. Screaming “Fire!” I’m banging on the door of the person who recently had a lung transplant. I walk up the block and warn the neighbors by yelling, “Fire!” It feels like I’m breaking my vocal cords. I remember at the time we had a texting chain in the area. I send four one-word text messages: “Fire,” “Snakes,” “Emergency,” and “Fire.” (Yes, it’s somewhat cryptic, but I’m not in my right mind!)

I race back to my husband who uses a hose to wet the front in case there are any flying embers. The fire of house No. 1 has now engulfed a significant part of house No. 2 next door – that’s it directly opposite our house.

Hubs tells me to get the pets; we have to leave. I rush in and mumble, “Get the pets, get the pets, get the pets,” as if I would forget if I didn’t keep saying it. (Crisis causes unexpected reactions.)

At this point most of the neighbors have left. Our pets are about to be loaded into the car. Both House #1 and #2 are complete is on fire and the first fire truck drives into our narrow street.

Oops. We didn’t get out in time.

Instead, we stayed calm and out of the way while about fifty firefighters and water-dropping helicopters battled the blaze. They put out the fire before it could hit a third structure – or ours. I can’t respect the fire brigade more than I do now.

The worst came next. With the power out and the street pitch black, scores of looters, looky-loos and hustlers stormed in. We had to build nighttime barricades and hire security. It was deeply unnerving.

Cut to…

Quite a few people told me that my experience and Instagram post helped them understand the situation better. That’s why I thought I’d share them here. The message:

To respect those dealing with disasters, I paused posting. Then I was involved in the disaster. So I’m going to post what I think is helpful to those people not directly now affected.

‘Not directly affected’ is subjective. Did you know that trauma is not only a distressing life event that happens, but that it is also the person’s response to it? This means that people who witness that distressing life event, even on television, can experience trauma. These reactions can include sleep disturbances, hypervigilance and anxiety. Please don’t be hard on yourself.

For those with guilt and feelings of helplessness interrupting their (your) own “normal” life: STOP IT! We need you strongly. Go back to what you feel most comfortable with. Your love and strength are at least energetically needed.

Something ‘normal’ can help people reset and calm down. So if you can function as normally as possible, please do so. We can’t all go down at the same time. The vacillation between guilt and gratitude is typical of these types of incidents (Moniuszko, 2025).

This disaster is unlikely to mean a quick recovery. We need your land. You are being called upon to help those of us who feel exhausted and empty as time passes and ‘normal’ remains elusive.

For those who give food to the firefighters, ask them first. If they are full or overwhelmed by our kindness, think of other teams (for example, we talked to employees of the Ministry of Water and Energy, who work 16 hours a day and have a staff 24/7. They were humble, helpful and heroic too.).

Before the fires hit my own block, I had called the local fire station to ask what they needed. The captain had replied that they were good and were already overwhelmed by the appreciation and goodies from the crowd. I can only imagine what it’s like now.

Idea: Spread the love. Who else has tried their best? Who else do we not necessarily appreciate on a daily basis? So many heroes keep the city running.

Trauma is a person’s response to a painful life event. So someone looking at the images may have a real trauma response, comparable to someone who was directly hit. Your brain will judge, but that’s human. We’re all in this together, okay?

I have friends who were not yet ready to be evacuated and had to leave town. They were so scared! And while that wasn’t my experience, I understand it. People took care of themselves as best they could by staying, going, packing, whatever made them feel safer.

For many who were more directly affected (I didn’t lose my home, family, people or pets, but I became trapped and witnessed the fury of the fire that destroyed two houses about twenty feet away), the outpouring of love and support is cup-filling and grounding. If you are concerned about your friends, please reach out.

People reached out to me on social media, through text messages and other ways. People I had fallen out with years ago reached out. It mattered; they were important; their kindness mattered. The fact that they were thinking of me made me feel strong and resilient.

If you’ve been thinking about someone but feel weird about reaching out, I encourage you to do so despite the reluctance. They can benefit greatly from knowing that you have thought of them and wish them well.