California is a land of paradox, unprecedented natural beauty and a range of terrains and environments, a veritable paradise–while at the same time subject to earthquakes, floods, mudslides, and fires. People who live in the more vulnerable parts of the state learn to live in this tenuous superposition of grace and fragility. One is left wondering whether some of Hollywood’s mythic status depends on Mother Nature and its power of illusion and storytelling, flimsy yet enduring, drawing up the fearsome awe and dizzying wonder of the land.
Like the celluloid film from the golden days of Hollywood, which would bubble and scorch when the projector jammed, interrupting the story, we understand from natural disasters that what seems so solid in our daily lives also is ephemeral, and yet resumes and renews. The immediate devastation leaves us bereft and unhoused–but the lessons learned from fragility challenge us to adapt and develop wisdom, and hopefully learn and prepare.
I first met Robert Rich freshman year at Wesleyan University–he is a brilliant and successful entrepreneur and a brave soul with countless stories which, while true, sometimes strain credulity. He is a true son of Los Angeles, a native of Hollywood who grew up in an environment filled with Hollywood magic–his father was one of the architects of contemporary American culture, renowned director of classic television shows including The Brady Bunch and The Dick Van Dyke Show, directed and produced All In The Family, and a number of other cultural classics which defined a generation. But Los Angeles is, for sure, not all glamor and bling. The city of angels is home to millions of people living ordinary lives, and the human toll of the current wildfires is a tragedy to which we can all relate.
As this interview goes live, unprecedented wildfires again are rampaging through Los Angeles and the surrounding areas. While standing vigil, family taking turns awake throughout the night, my long-time friend Rob took a few minutes to provide a compelling interview about what it is like on the ground for him near the foothills of Los Angeles. He himself has lived in the shadow of disaster, including the wildfires claiming an ancestral home in 2017.
I’m grateful to Rob for taking a few moments to share his thoughts as the inferno rages.
Grant Hilary Brenner: What has your personal experience with wildfires been?
Robert Rich: I grew up in Beverly Hills, high up in the Santa Monica Mountains, with fire a constant threat. I recall seeing fires a few valleys away in the 70’s. I still choose to live in California, knowing that devil winds, fire, drought, deluges, mudslides, and earthquakes do occur.
GHB: How have past fires affected your family and neighbors? What are you seeing now?
RR: A few years after inheriting my mother’s property in Ojai, a town 70 miles northwest of LA, the main house was destroyed in the Thomas Fire of 2017.
We currently live in West LA. As I write this, the Palisades fire is heading our way. We sleep in shifts. Everyone we know has family and friends who have lost homes, and we are no exception. Growing up in LA, you always heard about “the Big One,” the mother of all earthquakes, slated to wipe us out. Pacific Palisades and Altadena currently look far worse than anything I could have imagined the Big One doing.
GHB: How do you think about the emotional impact, at the time and looking back? Especially now as wildfires rage?
RR: The house we lost to fire was not our primary home, so our experience is incomparable to what my neighbors are going through. It was still traumatizing, though I tried to remain philosophical and stoic in the aftermath. Thank goodness my mother wasn’t alive to see it. Ironically, before she died, my mother warned us not to get sentimental about the house and told us to “burn her things.” While my family certainly grieved over the loss, I’ve tried to take my mom’s words to heart.
GHB: You don’t know what you don’t know. Is there anything you’d like to share you’ve learned?
RR: We weren’t in Ojai when the fire happened. A neighbor sent a photo confirming the main house was destroyed. I resisted any temptation to go to the property for three weeks. There wasn’t any point being there, and weeks later, it was still a smoldering toxic ruin. If you know your house is gone, my advice is to stay away. Contact your insurance broker and start your claim, but you shouldn’t stress having to be there during the first few weeks.
The claims process can be tedious. For the structural damage piece, you’ll want evidence of any improvements, and you’re going to need to make some decisions soon about whether you’ll want to rebuild or not.
For personal property, the carriers are going to want documentation. They are not going to just cut you a check. It took us about a year, but to get paid up to the full amount of our insurance limits, we gathered photos from family events showing home contents, collected online receipts, made lists of everything we owned, down to the forks and knives, and then went to Amazon.com and other online stores to identify values, taking screenshots and logging url’s. All of this was accepted by our carrier as acceptable documentation. The process not only allowed us to literally take stock of what was lost, but knowing that each item documented would be reimbursed gave us purpose to grind on. Going through those photos was bittersweet but allowed us to reminisce.
GHB: Is there anything you’d like to add?
RR: Right now, emotions are very raw. There’s anger at the authorities, anger at the wind, and a lot of anger directed towards insurance companies. I recall having what later turned out to be an unfounded fear of being screwed by our insurance carrier. I think this clouded some of my initial interactions with them. In hindsight, I was experiencing an amygdala hijack and wasn’t acting strategically or in my own best interests. My advice is to think of your carrier as your partner. The claims process is intended to get you paid, not to squeeze you. Yes, they have documentation requirements and limits on liability, but the carriers want to resolve your case.