'LOOKING FOR YOUR TRIBE'

Fire survivors know a home is more than just a roof over our heads

- BY JAMES RAINEY

IN THE PALISADES, families are waiting to see whether L.A. will waive permitting fees to reconstruct.

When we went around the table at Thanksgiving, our close ones laid out their myriad plans and wishes for the coming year: writing projects, work goals, fitness regimens, travel plans.

All the wishes sort of blended into a bit of white noise for me. Until our friends Betsy and Howard took their turns. “I want a home,” was all Betsy said. “Yeah,” Howard agreed, “a home.”

The home they owned in Altadena — near the top of Lake Avenue and just below wild brushland — burned down one year ago. I recall it as a beautifully quirky place, where you could soak in a hot tub or cook a pizza in an outdoor brick oven, or look over a small fruit orchard and take in a good portion of the western San Gabriel Valley.

Betsy and Howard are among the lucky ones. They have good insurance and they're roosting in a fine temporary place in Pasadena. But like thousands of others, they don’t feel they're home.

We all know a home is more than just the roof over our heads. Often it’s those who've lost theirs who understand what it really means. It’s a set of routines developed over years, the comfort of the familiar and a monument to the different ways families learn to feel safe and like themselves.