As wildfires ravaged the Los Angeles area, bonds forged through service became lifelines, revealing the quiet strength of a purposeful community in a time of crisis.
LOS ANGELES — When hurricane‑force winds swept across the Greater Los Angeles area in early January, two massive wildfires—one in the Pacific Palisades neighborhood and another near Pasadena and Altadena—left more than 16,000 homes and buildings in ruins. In Pasadena alone, 13 schools were destroyed and thousands of people displaced. Moments like these may raise a fearful question: will it become every person for themselves?
What unfolded instead was the opposite—an outpouring of generosity and organized care for one another, particularly in areas where community-building endeavors had been established.
“Before the fires, our neighborhood had spent fifteen years building bonds of friendship through service, study, and prayer,” recalled Nazanin Ho, an Auxiliary Board member in Pasadena. “In those early, confusing hours—when information was uneven and conditions were changing quickly—those bonds became lifelines.”
Amid rapidly shifting circumstances, families linked through children’s classes, youth groups, and devotional gatherings checked on one another, especially newly arrived families or those less familiar with local systems. They shared practical advice about where to go and how to stay safe. “Because we had already learned to consult together and care for one another, people stayed calm and moved with purpose,” Ms. Ho said.
A coordinated response
Within hours, neighbors serving as coordinators in moral and spiritual educational programs, together with families active in community life, met online with members of Bahá’í institutions.
The Bahá’í Local Spiritual Assemblies of Pasadena and Los Angeles coordinated logistics; family networks consulted to share information and identify needs; and the activities—study circles, youth groups, and devotional gatherings—became spaces for support and other forms of reflection from which further action would emerge.
“You could feel how years of learning to consult and work together in harmony translated into the ability to act swiftly,” said Kalim Chandler, another Auxiliary Board member.
Once the immediate danger had passed, attention turned to assisting those most affected. While city departments and civic groups mobilized at scale to provide many essentials, neighbors focused on two urgent needs that persisted in many homes—clean air and safe water. Smoke from century‑old houses filled the air with toxins, and damaged pipes left some water supplies undrinkable.
The Local Spiritual Assembly of Los Angeles organized the city’s Bahá’í Center as a collection hub, while the building in Pasadena dedicated to moral and spiritual educational programs served as a staging area for bottled water, masks, and air purifiers.
Through collaboration among the Assemblies in the Greater Los Angeles area and neighborhood networks, the available equipment reached residents of those localities most at risk—the elderly, children, and families with health conditions.
Ms. Ho explained how a devotional spirit animated relief and recovery efforts. “Praying with our neighbors reminded us that recovery and spiritual strength go hand in hand.”
Naeema Eckfeld, a member of the Los Angeles Assembly added: “There was such tenderness. People who had lost everything were comforting others.”
Youth whose own homes had burned helped deliver supplies. Younger youth collected and distributed water; facilitators of youth groups sought out reliable air‑quality information to guide their efforts.
Resilience through service
“Resilience showed itself as a desire to act,” Mr. Chandler said. “Everyone wanted to serve. Even those struggling were thinking of others.”
In Pasadena, the tutoring program that had been established by participants of community-building programs expanded from twice a week to daily sessions while schools were closed, offering continuity and companionship for children who had lost their classrooms and routines.
Among households, unity deepened. Families shared roofs and meals for weeks. One mother gathered donated food so she could cook for everyone staying with her. “It truly felt like one large family,” Ms. Ho remembered. Volunteers later joined a city‑organized cleanup, clearing debris from damaged streets—an act that signaled renewal as much as recovery.
For many, the experience illuminated characteristics of years of collective effort: habits of consultation, a spirit of service, and the capacity to read a situation with clarity and calm.
Neighbors paused to understand what was changing on each block, verified information, and matched offers of help with real conditions. “Springing to action helped keep despair at bay,” reflected Natalie, a facilitator of youth groups. “The more we served, the more hope we felt.”
The Local Spiritual Assembly of Los Angeles, too, adapted in real time. Residents and friends alike turned to it for encouragement, coordination and moral support; the institution kept steady lines of communication, created spaces for consultation and prayer, and helped connect offers of help to specific needs as they emerged.
Following this experience, a community wildfire‑preparedness symposium—bringing together residents, officials, and environmental experts—will be held at the Los Angeles Bahá’í Center later this month.
Many months on, signs of renewal continue to emerge. In Pasadena and Altadena, gatherings for prayer and study have become more frequent, and participation in moral and spiritual educational programs has grown. “Nothing stopped,” Ms. Ho said. “The crisis propelled us forward by reinforcing the commitment to service.”
Transcending self-preservation
Reflecting on that period, Mr. Chandler added: “It’s easy to assume disaster brings out self‑interest. We saw the opposite. Generosity was everywhere. It gives you hope for humanity.”
In the days that followed the crisis, the Los Angeles Assembly drew on the Bahá’í writings about meeting difficulties with steadfastness and radiance so that the light of assurance overcomes fear—guidance that many said gave them courage to keep serving.
The fires left deep scars on Southern California’s landscape, but they also revealed the quiet strength of neighbors learning together to respond to crisis with unity, prayer, and purposeful action.
As Ms. Ho reflected, “Though the loss was profound, the days that followed revealed something precious: people’s higher nature shone through. Strangers embraced, tears were shared, and kindness flowed. We hope that spirit continues to guide our neighborhoods’ growth.”
