I go to school in Azusa but this isn’t my home. My home is the Central Valley. Still, for nearly 50,000 people, Azusa is home. And for close to 10 million, Los Angeles is home.
When those 10 million are struck by the devastating reality of fires ripping through their communities, there’s only so much one can do from the sidelines.
In Azusa, we aren’t directly in the path of the Eaton Fire, which has already consumed 10,600 acres and destroyed parts of Altadena and Pasadena. We’re not facing evacuation orders and frankly, we can look outside and still see blue skies.
But that doesn’t mean we’re untouched. Like so many, we know someone affected—whether by the Eaton Fire or the Palisades Fire, which has now burned 17,234 acres, destroying hundreds of homes and businesses in its way.
There are countless stories of people forced to leave everything behind: the homes they built, the memories they created, the safety they once knew in the fast, chaotic, yet beautiful city of Los Angeles.
My roommate and I sat in our apartment at Azusa Pacific University, binge-watching the news as we watched dozens of reports of firefighters rescuing lives and saving homes, neighbors helping each other escape, and reporters braving 60 mph winds to capture it all. And we just sat there—helpless, our hearts heavy.
As mentioned, this isn’t my home, but seeing my roommate’s grief over the small shops in Pasadena we once visited now burnt to the ground, or her worrying about the people she knew in the schools and communities that are now in ashes, I was immediately struck with an important reminder: this is our home too because when our neighbors grieve, we all grieve.
It was amidst this helplessness — paralyzed within our small apartment —that I came across an Instagram post asking for volunteers to help prepare meals, gather donated items, and be willing to distribute food and supplies at a local restaurant in Azusa.
My roommate and I talked it over, unsure if we could even be of help. We went for a walk to clear our heads and get out of the house and as we looked to the San Gabriel Foothills, we saw the thick gray smoke billowing. The fires were closer than we thought and our neighbors were in need.
We detoured our walk and without a second thought, headed straight to Halfsies to join the dozen of fast-working hands making stew, sandwhiches, and bags of supplies and food for the people in neighboring evacuation shelters.
Before jumping in, I paused for a moment to take in the scene. Dozens of people I didn’t know who shared the same desperate urge to help— help not just friends and families, but complete strangers whose lives had been uprooted.
Before that moment, I hadn’t felt a deep connection to the community in Azusa. I was just a few months away from graduating, planning to leave this city and chapter of my life behind. But seeing the beauty of this community come to life not only in shared prayers but through action was something I knew I wanted to be a part of.
My roommate and I quickly got to work chopping carrots, onions, and potatoes for stew as we shared beautiful stories and conversations with others who felt the same pang of helplessness as us. We were immersed in this community of different stories, different languages and different backgrounds that all led us here to Azusa and to this small gathering with a purpose to help.
Over the next few hours, the place was filled with music, dancing, a light hum of several conversations, and a chaotic yet steady rhythm of preparation. More friends arrived, more donations poured in, and more people volunteered to run food to shelters and fire stations. The community came together, right there in that small empanadas shop.
I don’t know how many lives we might have touched with the food we prepared and the emergency kits we made, but I do know that there is so much more work to be done. The fires are still 0% contained and more than 100,000 people, animals, children, and elderly people have been displaced.
With more winds expected to pick up Thursday evening and Friday morning, first responders will continue to be stretched thin and pushed to their limits. More people will be hungry, scared, and in desperate need of support. Whether you’re in Azusa, neighboring Los Angeles communities, or afar, please consider donating your time, your money, your hands, or your heart to those in need. These are your neighbors.
For information on how to get involved in Azusa, you can visit @eathalfsies on Instagram or at 600 E. Fifth Street Azusa, CA 91702.
You can also visit here, for other ways to donate and help those in need.