Skip to main content

Wildfire Relief, How to Help


What a summer in Texas. 3.5 million acres burned, at last count, with fires still burning in central and north Texas. In millions of those acres, the men and women who fight the fires are VOLUNTEERS. Repeatedly this summer, they have risked their lives to keep these fires from doing even greater damage. Volunteer firefighters have no funding from any government. We, the people, are their only source of funds. Given the record-breaking heat, drought and increase in wildfires to be fought, those funds are now dangerously low.



Lack of funding means that volunteer firefighters have to fight fires with less-than-optimal equipment, making a life-threatening situation even more deadly. When you're not next door to one of these fires, it's easy not to worry. We have so much trust and faith in our firefighters, both employed and volunteer. I think of them as a staple of my community and my country, a continual resource. I walked out of my house one day and smelled nothing but smoke in the air from a rural fire in our area, and worry never crossed my mind... after all, the firefighters were on the job.




But this job takes a lot of equipment and material resources, as well as human commitment and energy. I've experienced a wake-up call and now realize that this is one community resource that needs us as much as it protects us.

I learned just today of the Texas Wildfire Relief Fund. I invite you to join me in making a donation, large or small. It's a fitting way to honor all first-responders and to remember those who rushed to help on 9/11. Just click here to donate securely online.

If you're not in or from Texas, see if there is a Wildfire Relief Fund in your state. Southern California and Georgia have Wildfire Relief Funds. Search for your state and "wildfire relief" on Google.

This year, more than 6.1 million acres of US land have burned (Source: The Weather Channel), a record-breaking statistic. It's more important than ever to help those who have, against great odds, kept that number from being even greater and more devastating.

All photos from the Texas Wildfire Relief Website

Comments

Madre mía Ysabel, que fuego tan tremendo!!. Se me parte el corazón con éstos incendios tan enormes.
Espero que lleguen pronto las lluvias y apacigüe éstos fuegos voraces.
Un beso muy fuerte

Popular posts from this blog

Life without Television, Part 2

I began life without television with relief, which was consistent Monday through Friday. The first few weekends, though, felt awkward, anxious, lonely. When PBS has good programming on Saturday nights, it is extraordinarily good. Father Brown, Phryne Fisher, New Tricks... Extraordinary acting, high production values, and I fantasize about the pudgy, brilliant priest just perhaps having an innocent crush on one of his special parishioners, which would be moi. 

I called a friend one Sunday. "Maybe television helped with my anxiety more than I realized," I said. She told me about her aunt who, after her husband's death, kept the television on in his "man cave" 24/7. He has been gone years now. The television goes on, everlasting, in his absence. I don't blame her. Much of my frequent and prolonged television viewing began with grief.

After my sister died, I would watch almost anything, especially late at night when sleep eluded me. I even watched Convoy with …

Whose day?

Years ago, I made some collages using pages from a desk calendar from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The image that leads this post is one. Inside the hearts and flowers is a picture from the MMA collection of  a Japanese screen made in the 16th century. It is titled Tagasode, which means Whose sleeves?  The title comes from a 10th-century poem:


The fragrance seems even more alluring than the hue, Whose sleeves have brushed past? Or would it be this plum tree blossoming here at home?
Iro yori mo ka koso awaredo omohoyure tagasode fureshi ado no ume zo mo
The word haunts: tagasode. Whose sleeves? The question floats in my mind like a cloud on a still day. The sleeves materialize in my mind's eye. I hear them move through hushed air. I can imagine, though not name, the scent of the person to whom those sleeves belong. It's not unlike smelling the scent of your infant's clothes, or holding the perfume bottle that belonged to your mother...you don't need to open it... you know tha…

Glad to Hear It

This past week, Larry Wilmore and company mentioned Rachel Dolezol again on The Nightly Show. I don't remember who made the comment, but either Wilmore or one of the panelists said, "Did Rachel Dolezol do anything bad? No, she really didn't. Why did we get so uptight about that?" I was glad to hear it. Three cheers for being human.

I looked briefly at what's on Google currently about her and the now much-discussed Shaun White. I intend not to enter any of that fray mentally or verbally. I still maintain that humanity trumps color. We have a long way to go until we can leave our "paint by numbers" mentality behind, but we've made progress. Good changes can come, even in the midst of chaos and controversy. Maybe White and Dolezal will help us see that eventually.

As long as I'm here and continuing on the subject of color, I think I'm not alone in the fact that I don't like being called "white." As for my background, it includes …