Susan Toler Carr and her husband, Darrell, had to see for themselves. They had received devastating news from a neighbor that their home of 25 years had burned in the fires that had ravaged the Los Angeles area since last week.
The couple fled their Altadena neighborhood last Tuesday evening to go to a friend’s house in Toluca Lake. The next day, they bypassed police barriers by crossing a small street, passing a burning elementary school, destroying power lines, trees and smoldering debris.
When they arrived at what had been their house, most of it was gone. Part of their Spanish-style house built in 1924 was still on fire. Part of the structure was standing, including a wrought iron gate commemorating the life of their son, Justin, who died in 2013 at age 16 while training to swim from idiopathic hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a non-existent heart disease. detected.
The deep heartache the couple experienced almost 12 years ago suddenly resurfaced.
“It was like losing Justin all over again because that house was where he grew up and we kept it as a sanctuary for Justin,” Susan Toler Carr said. “It was a family home where Justin’s presence was everywhere. There is nothing like the pain of losing him. But our house was an extension of Justin.
The couple took most of Justin’s original works with them on January 7 as smoke and embers obscured the sky. But there was much more, such as antiques belonging to Toler Carr’s mother. His father, Burl Toler was the first black NFL referee the first black official in a major sport. A framed jersey he autographed for his daughter hung in Justin’s room. It was destroyed, among many other family heirlooms.
“We knew the potential, but we were hoping to be back home in a few days,” Toler Carr said. “You could never conceive of that.”
Countless pieces belonging to Justin or representing his place in their lives were also destroyed in the fire.
“We have all this in there, so much stuff created by Justin,” Toler Carr said. “It built up over the years and was wiped away in seconds. We know that things are replaceable, but when you have tons of memories…”
His voice fell silent.
Justin, an only child, was an artist, athlete, volunteer and scholar. He performed in school plays. “He was a young Renaissance man,” Carr said.
When Justin was 4, he amazed his parents when he said grace before dinner for the first time, ending with, “I pray for world peace.”
When he diedDarrell Carr was hospitalized after suffering a mild heart attack. “It was too much,” he said.
On Wednesday, Carr, a retired photography professor, said he became dizzy and nearly collapsed when he and his wife saw what remained of their home. It wasn’t the destruction, but rather what their house embodied.
“It was Justin’s house,” Carr said, stopping and apologizing for crying. He pulled himself together and compared his feelings to the famous sculpture, “Melancholy” by Albert Györgywhich represents a man slumped on a bench, his interior hollowed out.
“This is what I feel: empty, sad, hurt. I don’t really have all the words,” Carr said. “But this sculpture represents what I feel. And sometimes I feel like I have no hope. After my son died, that’s how I felt. And now it hits, and this hole in my body has gotten a little bigger.
But the Carrs found some comfort at the scene of so much sorrow: still standing and unscathed, the door built by one of Carr’s students with the words: “Justin Carr wants world peace” across and a large butterfly in the center. Justin competed in the butterfly event as a swimmer.
It’s also the name of the non-profit organization they founded after their son’s death to honor him. The organization awards scholarships to high school students, sells copies of Justin’s original works, and shares information about heart screenings, among other things.
“This is what Justin would have wanted,” Toler Carr said. “He cared about people, from a very young age. And everyone knew our house through this door. It’s amazing that he’s still standing.
She also found it “amazing” that a turquoise butterfly was discovered among the black rubble. “It’s like a war zone up there and a nightmare,” Toler Carr said. “But the portal and the discovery of the butterfly made us happy.”
Before evacuating, Carr climbed onto the roof in 80 mile-per-hour wind gusts with a hose, trying to beat back the fire. The wind almost knocked him over. “So I got on all fours.” He attached a sprinkler to the hose and used a heavy rock to hold it in place while it swung and spread water all over the roof.
“I didn’t want to lose my house,” he said. “I left with the feeling that everything would be okay.”
This was not the case. Now they’re trying to raise money to figure out what to do next.
“It is what it is,” Carr said. “As black people, we know how to survive. My father taught me that “sometimes you have to do the hardest things to get through this life.” I never forgot it. And I taught that to Justin. We will do as my father said, put one foot in front of the other. We have a great support system of friends of all races. We are moving forward. It won’t be easy. But this is what we must do.
“The positive side,” said his wife, “is that we are still alive. So many people are suffering. We are just among them.
