Tavia, Thrasher and Jason
The recent tragic wildfires in California destroyed over 12,000 homes. One of those was the home of Tavia Weinmann and her family, including her partner Jason and their six-year-old son Thrasher. A producer specializing in documentary films and corporate content, Tavia and her family recently moved to Altadena from Highland Park, looking forward to mountain views and fruit-filled yards, while still being part of their beloved city of Los Angeles. Last week, that new beginning was destroyed. We’ve asked Tavia to share her story, including navigating losing her family’s home as renters, what displaced families truly need, and more. Please read her powerful interview, and help by donating to the link below if you’re able.
Please help Tavia’s family by donating here.
We’re so sorry for your loss—it’s truly hard to imagine as moms. Can you please walk us through that terrible day?
Tuesday, January 7th, started out as just another typical day. The only difference was a strong windstorm that arrived earlier than expected. We could hear the winds picking up around 3 a.m., but we felt it was safe enough to go about our day. I took our son to school and, upon returning home, discovered that our driveway gate had been severely damaged by the wind. My parents, who were still in town from the holiday season, helped secure outdoor furniture and other items that could potentially become projectiles in the gusts. Around 10:30 a.m., I received a message that power may be shut off within the next 4 hours due to the high winds. Anticipating this, we prepared meals that did not require electricity, gathered pajamas to the living room for ease of locating in the dark, and set up emergency lighting. By 2:45 p.m. I picked up my son from school, and we decided to skip extracurricular activities due to the worsening conditions. By 4:30 p.m., my parents headed to LAX in their Uber as their return flight was scheduled for that night.
At 5:18 p.m., the power went out. We cuddled under a blanket, watched a downloaded movie on the iPad, and waited for Dad to return from work. When he came home, we ate dinner and decided we would move our “movie night” to the bedroom in order to stay warm under extra blankets. Around 7:30 p.m., as we were brushing our teeth and getting into pajamas, there was a knock on the door. Our teenage neighbor came by to let us know that his family was evacuating, and they could see fire approaching from their front door, high up on the mountainside. We went into the backyard and could indeed see the fire crawling across the hillside, though it still appeared far away. We were used to fire risks in the area, but it had never come close to where our home was. As we were observing the fire, we noticed that two large tree limbs in our front yard had fallen, blocking part of the road. In the fierce winds, our neighbors stepped in to help move the debris so cars could still pass.
At that point, we decided it might be safest to head to nearby Pasadena for the night, concerned about a tree potentially falling on our roof in the storm. We never anticipated the fire would pose an immediate threat. We downloaded the Watch Duty app due to numerous individuals on social media stating that it was helpful with tracking wildfires (just for peace of mind). At this point minimal parts of East Altadena were being impacted. We planned to grab a few essentials, head to a hotel for a safe night of sleep, and then return in the morning to our home when the winds had calmed. In the dark we quickly packed for the night, taking minimal items, including only one of our cars as we felt it was unsafe to drive in the current weather conditions.
When we made it to Pasadena, we discovered that parts of East Altadena had been evacuated due to the fire. Every hotel we visited was fully booked, with long lines of people trying to find a place to stay. We decided to head to my partner’s mom’s house in Atwater Village instead. As the night wore on, I kept checking the Watch Duty app and saw the Eaton fire continuing to grow. I reached out to friends in the area who were also grappling with the uncertainty of whether we’d overreacted by leaving for the night. The consensus was that it was better to be safe than sorry, especially with the storm still raging. My parents’ flight departed LAX and we went to bed.
We woke up at 4 a.m. as it was hard to sleep. That morning, in the Watch Duty app it showed that an evacuation order for our area, ALD-WHITEPARK, had been issued at 3:27 a.m., while we were sleeping. We never received a reverse 911 alert, nor did many other residents of Altadena that I later spoke with. A map was published on social media that was attempting to track structures on fire. I did not see any structures noted near our address and hoped that the firemen would gain control of the fire before it reached us. At 10 a.m., we picked up my partner’s brother and headed back to Altadena to retrieve our second car, my parents’ car, and a few more items from the house. When we arrived, the police had blocked off the road leading to our street. We couldn’t get through. We returned to his mom’s house and for hours, I refreshed social media, hoping to see signs that the fire was under control. At 11:45 a.m., we learned that our friends had lost their home to the fire. We were devastated for them, but also consumed with worry about our own home’s fate.
I spent the next several hours glued to social media, following every update. Then, around 1:20 p.m., an individual uploaded a video driving down our street. They had to turn around, but I couldn’t tell if the obstruction was from a fallen tree or a wall of flames. At 1:30 p.m., we decided to try again to gain access to our home, desperate at this point to know that it was okay. At 2:34 p.m., I texted my family: “It’s all gone,” along with a photo of what remained of our home, as I sobbed uncontrollably in the passenger seat of our car. The police were still blocking access to the area, and we were unable to exit our vehicle, so I asked to take a photo from the car window. Then, they told us that we had to leave the area. In that moment, it sank in: our home, our cars, and all of our possessions were gone.
Again, we’re so sorry for your massive loss. What has this been like as a mom—how have you parented through it? How is your son doing?
We decided to be honest. We held our son as we told him together. He sobbed while saying “it hurts, it hurts.” He only had ever done that for scraped knees, common boo-boos, but this was a deeper hurt he was feeling inside. We held him as he cried. I think he already knew before we finished our words. I’m sure there was devastation on my tear-stained face. We had told him earlier in the day about our friend’s house that was lost, as it belonged to his best friend. He asked why mother nature would do this to us, we love her, why doesn’t she love us? It was heartbreaking. It was hard.
We let him know that all of these feelings are ok and normal. We, as adults, feel them too. They are just things that we lost, but it’s ok to miss our things. It’s ok to cry for our things. It is ok to mourn the loss of items that were irreplaceable. But we also remind him that we can talk about those items, and keep them in our memories and hearts forever. I have been dreaming about our home, slowly walking through each room, opening drawers, reminiscing about what’s inside. He tells us of his dreams too and has been finding joy in the memories of our home and his toys. He misses his toys the most. We all miss the safety that a home, full of our curated things, provides.
We have discussed how humans and nature coexist and where this can go wrong. We determined that it’s easiest to give a hug when a wave of sadness is triggered and to verbally state “I’m sad.” He does this throughout the day. We have chosen to be fully transparent so that he knows he is not alone on this roller coaster of emotions.
In the day to day, he is doing amazing. He finds so much joy in everything. He laughs. He plays. He is happy to be back at school with his classmates and friends. He is aware that everyone knows of his circumstances and it makes him not feel alone as he can talk about it and share how he feels.
We are the most concerned about him and the impact of this massive loss. We are looking forward to reestablishing his normal routine so that he knows not everything has been impacted negatively by this event.
So glad that he is doing as well as he is. What do most people not fully understand, who are seeing the images on social media?
It is really hard to navigate the next steps after a disaster like this. There were a lot of renters impacted by the fire; a lot of social media posts provide guidance for homeowners. There are a lot of people whose circumstances are being overlooked. There is poor communication on site for residents trying to access their homes. Many of us want to see if anything remains but we are not permitted to do so. Yet some individuals say they have been granted access, while others have not been. There has been confusion surrounding a timeline for when we will be able to reenter the area. I wish it would be easier and less of a fight to gather information for those that have been directly impacted.
Donations are incredible and generous, but the majority of displaced people cannot take on many items. We simply do not have a place to put them—we have no homes. We do not know where we will be living long term or for how long we will be in this unknown space.
Tavia’s son in front of their home before it was destroyed
Where are you living now?
For the time being, we are staying with my partner’s mom. As renters, we now face the challenge of finding a new home in an already expensive and highly competitive market. We are incredibly grateful for her generosity in welcoming us into her home during this difficult time, as we navigate the uncertainty of what our future housing situation will look like.
Most importantly, how can we help?
Sharing our GoFundMe page is greatly appreciated as we navigate the uncertainty of finding housing, rebuilding our home, and raising our son:
Anything else you’d like to share?
The support from our community during this time has been incredible. I have cried so many tears due to the generosity of friends, family, and strangers. When something like this happens, it is very overwhelming. It is hard to know what is needed or where help can be given because the future is hard to imagine. Checking in on people just to say you’re thinking of them means a lot!
