Author: Sharron Burnett

When a disaster takes place anywhere on earth we often focus on what went wrong and who to blame. All too often we do not focus on the outpouring of goodness that almost always manifests itself in thousands of acts of kindness. While terrible events may demonstrate areas where we need to improve they also show us that when things become unbearably difficult there will always be good hearted individuals who respond with sacrifice and compassion. 

I have seen the truth of this over and over again in both small and large ways. In the flood prone part off the United States where I live storms all too often come along to disrupt the lives of the people who live here. Some rank as once in a lifetime epics that garner national attention like hurricane Harvey of 2017 that left most of the city of Houston and surrounding areas under water. Five days of relentless rain overwhelmed the systems designed to direct runoff to the sea. The destruction was biblical but so was the reaction of the citizenry and groups that came to help from all over the nation.

I will never forget the images of ordinary people manning their boats to carry citizens from flooded homes to safety. Later when the rain subsided and folks returned to their waterlogged houses an army of volunteers offered their services to clean the muck, take down the walls, and carry out ruined possessions. Good hearted souls travelled to the worst affected areas bringing water, food, dry clothing and goodwill. In the midst of so much sorrow and loss hope sprang from the realization that nobody was going to be left alone to shoulder the horror of what had happened. 

I remember thinking that perhaps our city of Houston was doomed. I expected people to flee to safer locales, for businesses to fail, for hopefulness to wane. To my surprise and delight that did not happen. People rebuilt their lives and slowly moved forward even as they sometimes felt anxious whenever it rained. Houston really did remain strong just as New York City did after the terrorist attack of 9/11 and New Orleans did after Katrina. 

Of course there were long discussions of what had gone wrong and how things might have been better handled. The city of Houston consulted with experts to determine what kind of changes might lessen the harm in the event of future disasters. There was some finger pointing and lamenting and lots of redesigning of drainage systems. All in all some lessons were learned as others were ignored which seems to be the way of humans. We tend to only incrementally learn from our mistakes but rarely ignore them altogether. 

The fires in Los Angeles have brought out both the good and the bad of people. Some focus only on blame while others put their boots on the ground to help fight the fires or care for the citizens who have been so horrifically displaced. While there will come a time for considering what went wrong and even for determining who or what may have been to blame for now our only concern should be to demonstrate our love and concern for the victims of this horrific situation. Whether they are rich or poor in this moment they are all people who are suffering and who will be anxious for months and years to come. Their sense of security has been dashed and reduced to rubble. It is up to all of us to help however we might be able to do. 

I am no longer physically able to appear in person to minister to the people of Los Angeles but I have the ability to help just a bit by contributing to organizations that will bring food, shelter and aid to the displaced citizens who are no doubt wondering where next to go. This is the time to demonstrate who we are as Americans and to be grateful for the people from Mexico and Canada and Africa who have so quickly responded to the calls for help. Now is the time to use our words to encourage the people of California, not to scold them. We must share in the plenty of the United States just as we always do, not threaten to withhold our help because we do not approve of the way the people there vote. This might even be an opportunity for the billionaires who gave so generously to Donald Trump to contribute millions of dollars to the cause of rebuilding the lives of the Angelenos.

Of late we Americans have been flooded with propaganda meant to induce us to turn on one another, judge one another, force one another to believe and act in a certain way. This is antithetical to the very ideas of our Declaration of Independence and to our Constitution which over time was crafted and recrafted to include all of the people in our incredibly diverse nation. We are not one race, one religion, one political philosophy. There is room for all of us and in truth that is the way it should always be. No one group should dominate and punish the other, but lately that seems to be a trend that is going as far as to suggest that the good people of Los Angeles and their leaders are somehow not worthy of our compassion in their time of dire need. This, of course, is absurd and we must make it clear to the men and women that we have elected to serve us, not themselves. We must make it clearly known that we will stand for nothing less than helping Los Angeles in every positive way possible. 

I live my life in awe and appreciation of everyone, even those whose ideas are contrary to mine. I only balk when they have the audacity to force their beliefs on me and others who do not agree. This is a time to demonstrate the ideals of the Untied States of America and not its flaws. This is a time to unite with the people of Los Angeles without attempts to degrade them as a condition. All of us must be willing to help. 

I suppose it would be easier if I were just to get over the fires in Los Angeles. After all, but for the grace of God I am not there, or so some say. I might even tell myself that there is really noting I can do about it so why should I be so obsessed with the disaster. Some might even say, “It is what it is” and urge me not to become so twisted with horror and grief because of what I see happening. In spite of the usual platitudes about being stoic in the face of destruction and sorrow I cannot think of much else than what has happened to the people who live there. I somehow feel the pain that must be haunting their days just as they are haunting my dreams. 

I wonder if my thoughts are related to childhood memories of long ago when I lived in North Hollywood with my family while my father looked for a job. It was the spring of 1957 and we rented a stucco house that might have been used for a movie set the twenties or thirties. It was perched atop what seemed like a hill to me and I found it to be quite enchanting. 

On the day that we moved into the home we are advised on what to do in the event of an earthquake. My horror over the thought of such a thing only intensified when the movie San Francisco ran on television that every night. As I watched the buildings crumbling and catching on fire I secretly wondered if we were going to be safe living in a place built on top of a fault. 

I went to a school that was even higher up the hill on which we lived. The bus drove past gorgeous homes that I felt sure had to be the residences of famous folk. I liked sitting by the window and imagining what life was like in the place that was still so foreign to me. I wanted to be back in Texas but I witnessed how much my father wanted to build a new life in California. He was eager to become part of the era of growth and opportunity that seemed to be bustling all around. He loved the beauty of the city of Los Angeles and the closeness of the Pacific Ocean. 

Unfortunately for him there was no work to be found so we shortly thereafter said goodbye to California and to relatives that I had never before met and would not ever see again. We headed back to Texas where Daddy did find a job. Only weeks after our return he died in a car accident on his way back from Galveston. Somehow it has always seemed fitting that he was able to see the Gulf of Mexico one last time before he left this earth because he was deeply in love with the sea. 

It would be many years before I returned to Los Angeles, once to visit a friend who had moved to the area and later with two grandchildren who had selected the city for a vacation. By the time of my last journey there I was noting that the natural surroundings looked like kindling and I was far less concerned about an earthquake than the possibility of a fire. In fact, I was so anxious that I confided to my husband that if a fire broke out on or near our campsite we would agree to flee in our truck and leave our trailer behind. 

Fortunately we were safe from fire but images of the dry land remained in my thoughts. Not long after there was indeed a fire near the place where we had camped, assuring me that my cautiousness had not been unwarranted. 

Not even in my wildest worries did I ever imagine the scenario that has let created a hellscape in Los Angeles and surrounding areas. A grandchild had outlined such a scenario in her concerns about climate change but when she insisted that we were already too late to stop the horrors to come I thought that her forecasts were erring on the side of hysteria. 

For the past several years I have watched as proof of the damage we have done to our beautiful earth has mounted. I’ve witnessed days of relentlessly heavy rain where I live turning my city of Houston into a water world of destruction. I’ve watched the fires in Maui with horror. More recently I have been stunned by the unbelievable impact of hurricane Helene. Each time I have circled back to the arguments from my granddaughter that we have to do something now or regret the price we must pay later. 

I have a daughter who lives in the hill country of Texas. She thought she had found her forever home but of late she wonders if she needs to leave. There has been little rain for many years. The water wells near hear neighborhood are going dry. She sometimes imagines a fire starting somewhere that will wipe out the serenity of the area that she so treasures. She has spoken of finding a more climate friendly place to be. 

My granddaughter is still focused on climate change. She will soon be embarking on earning a graduate degree in the study of climate change and what we humans must do if we are to survive the coming difficulties. None of this will help the people in North Carolina or Los Angeles who have already lost their homes and their sense of security but perhaps she will be able to help to outline a newer way of living that she believes must ultimately be embraced by all of us lest we continue to destroy our planet with abandon. 

I woke up this morning with an anxiety attack. I dreamed of a scene in a Christmas movie that I watch each year, The Holiday. Jack Black is talking to Kate Winslet whose character is from England. She has swapped houses with a screen writer from Los Angeles. She finds herself in a beautiful home in the hills on an evening when the winds are heavy. Jack Black tells her that they are experiencing the Santa Ana winds and when those winds come there is no telling what will happen. Sadly now we know what can happen when those winds unite with land as dry as kindling because there has been no rain. Now we have a tragedy that will become as infamous as the destruction of Pompeii. Hopefully we will learn to change our ways. The alternative cannot even be imagined by the most gifted writer of tales. 

My daughter has always loved science. When she was still a young student her science teachers would universally praise her abilities to deeply understand scientific theories. Eventually she herself became an environmental consultant and a science teacher. After moving to the midwestern United States she earned a nursing degree and worked in one of the largest hospitals in Chicago with the sickest patients in the city. Eventually she and her family returned to Texas where she devoted her time to raising three brilliant children while sometimes substituting for school nurses and middle school science teachers. 

At one point in time she seemed to be researching the possibility of a world wide pandemic. She recommended different books to me that told the story of the Spanish Flu pandemic that killed tens of millions of people throughout the world in 1918. Then she showed me a box that she kept in one of her closets that was filled with items that she might need in the event that another such pandemic might arise. She was fairly certain that sooner or later we would all witness such a thing and she wanted me to be as vigilant and prepared as she was. 

While I did not actually think that I would live to see such a thing I had become more aware of the signs of trouble than I might otherwise have been without her tutelage. When the first winds of Covid began causing disturbing deaths I began to prepare just in case it became the one that would rival other pandemics of the past. Fortunately I was ready with every possible supply and my husband and I weathered the horrific time without incident and mostly with optimism. 

Sadly we nonetheless witnessed the deaths of so many people, including some that we personally knew. It became a dark time for the world and in the process left not only physical damage but psychological destruction as well. Of late I have noticed a kind of worldwide pandemic of hopelessness that has infected individuals and nations with anxieties, deep depression and sometimes even wars. Many of the emotional after effects of the pandemic are only now coming to light. 

The first tangible sign that I saw of this came with the suicide of a wonderful man who had been a mentor to one of my grandsons. His business involved personal training of runners and during the height of the pandemic he lost most of his former customers. So too did his athletic store sit mostly dormant, thus sending him into financial ruin. I suppose that he was so overwhelmed that he saw death as his only way out. 

There have been many reports of depression particularly among teens who were students during the time of the epidemic. They lost graduation ceremonies and often spent months attempting to learn remotely. Freshmen students never got the opportunity to meet new classmates. Seniors had no proms, no football games. it was a tough time during their formative years and some of those young people never quite healed.

Isolation can be as much of a killer as a deadly virus. I understand how that works because we  were quite cautious during the height of the pandemic, staying mostly at home because my husband has heart disease and because we were caring for my father-in-law and his wife who were both in their nineties and afflicted with heart problems and cancer. We made the best of our situation but missed our usually busy social schedules. We even somehow lost friendships during that time and are only now beginning to resurrect those relationships. 

I have watched so many people struggling to return to a state of normalcy that I have not been totally surprised by the lone wolf killers whose minds went to dark murderous places when they became cut off from family and friends. it’s hard to know which comes first, the depression or the tendency to pull farther and farther away from other people. A common thread with murderous individuals seems to be that they all have tendencies to brood alone over situations that bother them and then act out on their need to do something to right their perceived wrongs. Theirs is a sickness that infects minds and ends with them spreading poison, hate and death to other innocents. 

I can’t say that I have a solution to the pandemic of hopelessness but I do believe that we have to be just as vigilant to the possibility of the spread of mental sickness as were are to the spread of a virus. While there is no vaccine for such a thing we should be observant and willing to reach out to anyone who seems to be going inward. It is wrong to just walk away from individuals who are obviously suffering and whose minds are infected. We would do well to stay in touch with them and not ignore signs that we will recall later when they have harmed themselves or others. We must be as alert to the signals as a doctor would be to symptoms of a disease. 

Take a bit of time to consider someone you know who is homebound, chronically ill, sitting mostly alone in a darkened room. See what you might do to help them return to a healthier state of mind. You may be just what the doctor ordered in preventing harm.

There are times when God has a way of reminding of what is good in our world. Somehow the contrast between the compassionate and generous life of Jimmy Carter and the hate spewing invective of president elect Donald Trump is a reminder for all of us to seek the good in the world. In the grand scheme of things we learned more about how to live a truly meaningful life from Jimmy Carter than we will ever garner from all of Trump’s wealth and power. 

From a religious point of view Jimmy Carter was the ultimate example for us all. He lived a seemingly quiet modest life but he was never afraid to speak out for justice for the underserved among us. He might have spent his years after the White House increasing his wealth, maintaining his power, and keeping his political influence alive. Instead he turned his attention to causes that enriched the lives of individuals who were struggling from poverty and disease. 

Jimmy Carter was a loving and loyal husband who remained faithful to his wife for decades. He was a pioneer in the struggle against climate change. He was a man of peace who brokered one of the most long lasting peace treaties of the twentieth century. He was a loving and responsible son and father. There is no doubting that he was a godly man who embraced his faith in every aspect of his life. 

It worries me that we now have leaders who seem to be following a kind of fake Christianity that is vindictive and cruel. In the name of religion they shun people that they do not understand. They judge and punish, actions that Jimmy Carter never accepted. Perhaps there is a message in the death of Carter just before the inauguration of Trump that is meant to help us all remember what is best about the commands that Jesus left for us to follow. After all he ultimately told us to love and few people who have lived on this planet have been better at doing that than Jimmy Carter. 

I won’t say much more than this. I am moved and  mourning at this moment and words are evading me. Instead I will simply hope that we humans will be inspired by the life of Jimmy Carter to set aside the ugliness that has challenged our ability to see every human as a miracle worthy of our compassion and acceptance. If we can follow Jimmy Carter’s way of life the world will indeed be a much more beautiful place to be. 

May Jimmy Carter rest in peace with God and the angels. May his memory be a blessing to us all.  

I cannot recall how old I was when a house caught on fire in my neighborhood but it had to be around five years old or perhaps even younger. I was not yet in school and my youngest brother had not yet been born when I heard the sound of a fire truck rushing down my street. My mother heard the alarm as well and rushed into our front yard with me following behind her. 

The smoke and flames appeared to be coming from the home of an elderly man who lived alone just down the way from us. It was not a huge fire and therefore was easy to extinguish but then the firefighters went inside to see if anyone was hurt. Their search ended when they discovered the body of the old man who had died most probably from inhaling the smoke. 

I still have a vivid memory of seeing our neighbor wheeled out of the house on a stretcher inside a body bag. I remember my mother attempting to explain to me what had happened with as few gory details as possible. She did her best to assure me that this was an unusual situation and that I need not worry about what I had seen. 

I suppose that my inner response was far darker then my mother ever imagined it would have been. I instinctively developed a hyped up fear of fire that would follow me to this very day. As a result of this childhood trauma I would worry constantly about the possibility of a fire in my home. As an adult I purchased fire extinguishers and fire blankets and rehearsed escape routes and routines with my two daughters. I took fire drills at school more seriously than most. The image of the charred home I had seen in my childhood have stayed with me to this very day. 

A few years ago I heard about a fire in a home that occurred a few days after Christmas. Members of a family were staying together when a Christmas tree burst into flames in the middle of the night. By the time the fire alarms began to sound the people upstairs were trapped by the fire that was already moving rapidly along the only way out. When I read that all of them died I immediately purchased a flexible ladder that attaches to the window sill so that in the event of a fire anyone in the second story will have a means of escaping. 

Ironically the brother who had not yet been born when my mother and I witnessed the tragedy of the fire on our street became a firefighter. He plied me with even more useful information regarding how to stay calm and find ways to escape from flames. He taught me to search for the closest exits from hotel rooms and seats in theaters even before I settle down to enjoy my vacations and entertainment. To this day I find myself observing the lay of the land wherever I go and thinking about what I will do in case of an emergency.

I suppose that my mind is urging me to review the safety measures that I have set in place due to the fires that seem to be breaking out more and more often raging through entire neighborhoods so quickly that people sometimes have no means of escape other than running on foot. Climate change has limited rain in many areas turning homes into kindling when a fire breaks out. We have seen it happen in Maui and at this moment in Los Angeles. Dryness coupled with strong winds wreaks havoc that not even fire extinguishers and fire blankets can handle. People literally have to flee for their lives. 

All of this has made me consider outlining escape routes on the roads near my home ahead of time in the event that something terrible happens where I live. While floods seem more likely to occur in my vicinity I know that last summer my brothers’ cabin in Colorado was threatened by an out of control fire and the area where one of my daughter lives has seen little or no rain for years. I have trained her well enough that she has already practiced evacuating. 

It is a shame that we are constantly fighting battles with nature but in most cases we have also ignored all of the danger signals coming from our changing climate. Our society does not want to think about the possibilities and so we simply react once a natural disaster has occurred. We do not consider such things in the construction of neighborhoods and roads. We react rather than planning ahead. We just keep building with abandon in areas where wells are going dry or places just waiting to be destroyed by hurricanes and storms. It is as though we do not want to face the possible consequences of our folly. 

I suppose that many would roll their eyes at the very mention of my obsession with fire safety. They would no doubt think that I would do better getting some help for my anxiety than stewing over things that are unlikely to ever happen but life has taught me that the unbelievable sometimes occurs. Huge buildings do indeed collapse after being hit by planes. Quaint towns are destroyed by hurricanes that began hundreds of miles away. A tropical paradise can turn into a hellscape. People die when they do not properly prepare or when they ignore the evidence that we must spend far more time considering the consequences of our actions. The earth is having its way with us and telling us that we need to make some changes. We ignore the warnings at our own peril.