I woke up in the middle of the night to the smell of fire. I knew it was the Sylmar fire, almost 20 miles away, so I said a prayer and went back to sleep. When I left the following morning for a conference, I looked at my car coated in ash and a strange thought passed over me - "That's not my ash." I didn't really recognize that thought as something that would come out of me, so I again said a prayer and drove off.
Well, I was wrong. Turns out it was indeed my ash. It was Oakridge Mobile Home ash, from those many miles away. I am a limited partner (very limited) in Oakridge, and when my brother emailed me that the Oakridge investment was now the Oakridge ash, my heart sank. Not for the effect on the investment. But for the loss that I was now somehow connected with. For the sorrow of 600 homeowners.
I hate it when newscasters talk about "multimillion dollar homes" going up in flames. A home is a home. A trailer is a home as much as a mansion is. Maybe even more. So, to the people at Oakridge, I say that there is no such thing as your ash and my ash. This is our ash and I pray that from that ash comes strength, support, love, and a growing measure of comfort and hope.
I hate it when newscasters talk about "multimillion dollar homes" going up in flames. A home is a home. A trailer is a home as much as a mansion is. Maybe even more. So, to the people at Oakridge, I say that there is no such thing as your ash and my ash. This is our ash and I pray that from that ash comes strength, support, love, and a growing measure of comfort and hope.
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