Camp offers shelter, peace amid fire chaos

Refusing to leave his retreat, rabbi devotes himself to serving crews battling the Slide blaze.

By Ashley Powers, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer October 29, 2007

The pairing of the rabbi and the firefighters was a natural one.He had beds. They had been sleeping on asphalt. He had food and showers. They were grateful.

Rabbi Yosef Brod should have rushed down the mountain a week ago, when the Slide fire was burning toward Camp Gan Israel, the 75-acre Jewish camp he runs in the San Bernardino Mountains. The fire charred nearly 13,000 acres and wiped out 201 homes as it spread.But Brod, a rabbi with the Chasidic Lubovitch, or Chabad, sect, stayed. "Have a nice day," he told his employees as they evacuated. "Drive carefully."Over the weekend, about a dozen fire engines were parked by the giant Hanukkah candelabra at the camp. One firefighter chatted on a cellphone while another shivered in his boxers. A third asked Brod what the symbols on the cabin doors meant -- they were prayer scrolls called mezuzot that are meant to keep their occupants safe.State prison officials also came by, looking to house inmate mop-up crews in the camp's bunks.Brod says he kept the camp open because he believed that God would shelter the pine-shaded site, which the Chabad organization bought for summer and winter camps and weekend retreats. So Brod called his wife after the evacuations were ordered last Monday and said he wouldn't be driving home to West Hollywood."She knew I'm so devoted to this place I wouldn't leave," he said. One of his employees stayed, too, and told Brod that, if need be, he would carry the camp director down the mountain.By midweek, flames were licking the camp's northern edge, and a firefighting helicopter tapped the camp's pool for water. Brod ran a hose from a fire hydrant to the pool to keep it full.He already prays three times a day, but that afternoon, "We prayed with a little more intensity," Brod said.The blaze halted about 100 yards from the camp's wood-shingle main lodge and spared the property's cellphone towers, basketball court and 16 other buildings.The blaze had pushed a clutch of soot-dusted firefighters onto the narrow road that curves into the camp. Brod fed them. He offered mattresses and soap.Down the road from the camp, firefighters had been dozing in pop-up tents, on cots and huddled between engines in a parking lot of the Snow Valley Mountain Resort in Running Springs, where the command center had been set up.The news of better digs spread quickly.So many firefighters streamed into Camp Gan Israel that Brod called other rabbis for help.He found one fire crew sleeping on the grass just outside of camp, and offered them real beds."That's kind of a big deal, to have a bunch of sweaty firemen stomping through your place," said Ontario Fire Capt. Art Andres. "And this is a place where people pay good money to find rest or peace or something."A compact man with black-rimmed glasses, a salt-and-pepper beard and a black yarmulke, Brod held a prayer service for a Jewish firefighter.On Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, Brod couldn't work until after sunset. So firefighters signed themselves in, writing on a yellow legal pad that they had come from departments in Chino, Upland, Rancho Cucamonga, Tuolumne and other places. They ate a traditional stew that had been prepared before sunset the night before, when the Sabbath began.As the men and women ate each night, Brod shared his interpretation of the week's events. "One match destroys a thousand homes just like that," he told firefighters. "If we have the power to destroy the world, we have the power to make it better."The firefighters sat in quiet with their thoughts.Brod slouched on a folding chair in the camp's restaurant-size kitchen as he recounted the week's events. A button had popped open on his shirt, but he didn't notice.His two cellphones interrupted. A friend in Maryland was checking to see if he was OK. The other caller offered to bring oranges and coffee. Meanwhile, firefighters played billiards and table tennis.After dinner, Brod went outside and climbed into his white Ford Expedition to check on his guests. He darted past cabins with nearly all the windows lighted, and slowed only to chat with firefighters. Their eyes were weary and their voices hoarse."So you own this whole place?" croaked one firefighter."God owns the world," the rabbi replied.

A rabbi joins firefighters

What do firemen and rabbis have in common? They both put out fires.

The wildfires make me wonder what God is up to. What message can he be conveying and what lesson can be learned? One thing I know for sure is that it is the clergyman's job to do and not ask. As one rabbi put it, "We only work here, we don't make the catastrophes."
Amid the sorrow and hardship the world continues to turn. The World Series begins and the Boston Red Sox win the first game. It was the most exciting game in the 104-year history of the World Series. China embarks on a 10-year moon exploration program and launches its first lunar probe. A powerful earthquake rocks western Indonesia, sending panicked residents fleeing from their homes and briefly triggering a tsunami warning. In Cape Canaveral, the shuttle Discovery and its crew of seven went into orbit to do extensive work on the space station.
While here in California the only comforting words from Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff while addressing a crowd was, "Take a moment to hug and kiss your loved ones. Everything else can be replaced." How condescending and inconsiderate are his sentiments? Imagine telling 500,000 people to kiss and make up, as if the trauma will just disappear along with the smoke and fire. Chertoff's statement is childish and totally out of character.
Meanwhile, in hard-hit Running Springs, the clergy have stepped up to the plate. There the fire erupted with a fierce vengeance, burning homes and businesses and leaving chaos, destruction and despair. Residents were evacuated and the brave firemen and sheriffs deputies are busy coordinating firefighting crews to save as much as possible. We wonder where they can find a place to rest their weary bodies, or for that matter, where can they get hot coffee or fresh food? Last but not least, where does the water come from to fight the fires?
At Kiryas Schneerson in Running Springs, Rabbi Yosef Brod made a decision. He was going to stay at the center , named after the Chabad leader, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson . Kiryas Schneerson has become a salvation and sanctuary for the brave firefighters and officers. Kiryas Schneerson was surrounded by fire and yet the rabbi persists, serving meals and drinks. He mans a 24-hour generator, fills the swimming pool with well water, and signals the helicopters to pick up and replenish their water supply. Kiryas Schneerson has become a sanctuary for survival, a temporary home for firefighters. It would seem that this marriage of firemen and clergy would not work, as firemen work for the physical and the clergy for the spiritual, but miraculously the center remains open and offers a place to eat and rest. The harmony of physical and spiritual meet and coalesce, members of all religions working together to save homes.
More rabbis drove up the mountain to help and support Rabbi Brod in his most extraordinary and brave work. Tragedies bring misery and at times bring out the best in people. At this time of overwhelming tragedies we must reach out and touch somebody by extending time, effort and spiritual support. The best thing we can do is be positive and charitable.
We salute all the brave people involved but most of all, we pray for the welfare of all our citizens of this wonderful state.
The motto of our country is "In God we trust." It is the job of clergymen to help that trust be realized.
Rabbi Eli Hecht is vice-president of the Rabbinical Alliance of America. He is the director of Chabad of South Bay in Lomita, which houses a synagogue, day school, nursery school and chaplaincy programs.

Bad times require angels, and often they are us

Similar acts of selflessness have been witnessed across the Southland.

At Camp Gan Israel in Running Springs, four Hasidic rabbis have been serving firefighters kosher meals while the blazes rage in the San Bernardino Mountains.

"This is a holy place," Josef Broed, a rabbi in the Orthodox Jewish movement called Chabad, told the Associated Press.

"God is going to watch over our place, and we will survive."