Hello Friends,
At around 8:30 p.m. on Memorial Day, my building caught on fire. It happened so fast. One moment, we were lounging in our apartment, when the smell of fireworks filled the air. We searched around, thinking it might be an overheated computer or our space heater. The next moment, my partner told me to leave. Now. I grabbed three things: our dog Hugo, my phone, and a coat.
Our neighbors gathered on the street, and the fire truck had already arrived. I called one of my neighbors, a friend, to urge him to get out. A little while later, they brought out a man, naked and unconscious. I thought it was my friend lying there as they attempted to resuscitate him. Then they brought out another man on a gurney. They were father and son.
Within a few days, my partner and Hugo left for Miami. I flew back to New York the following week to attend the funeral, coincidentally on the day when the air quality in the city was at its worst. Walking through the city, it felt apocalyptic. When I arrived at our building and our apartment, it no longer felt like home.
I am grateful every day for my community of neighbors. In the immediate aftermath of the fire, we came together in solidarity. We created a group chat where we share information and offer support to one another. The experience took a toll on us, and we continue to feel its repercussions. Some have chosen to leave, while others have temporarily relocated as our building is rebuilt.
We are taking a break this summer, fortunate enough to have family to stay with. The time away is healthy, and I am grateful to be exactly where I am. I'm looking forward to spending the summer in Miami. I plan to shoot a movie. A tale of resilience?