Swanson: From Kobe Bryant’s death to wildfires, LA unites in times of crisis

LOS ANGELES – We all remember where we were.

In our kitchens, in our cars, coaching our kids. Just waking up after a night out, or sitting down to eat, or about to paint a set piece for my daughter’s middle school play …

Kobe Bryant. Helicopter crash. Dead.

A hoax, we assumed. A mistake, we presumed. There was just no way.

Five eventful years later, we can all still vividly recall those moments on Jan. 26, 2020, when we learned Kobe and his 13-year-old daughter Gianna were among nine killed in a helicopter crash near Calabasas.

And, oh, the shockwave that news sent through L.A., this whole city, knocked over by grief. I never imagined I’d again experience bereavement on such a massive scale.

And then L.A. started burning.

Awfully different awful scenarios, I know.

It’s just I can’t think about Kobe without thinking about how L.A. responded in those days and weeks after his death. And I couldn’t help but think about that while witnessing people react to the wildfires this month, watching how L.A. has mourned and rallied, grieved and come together again.

Major international news, but for us, it was personal.

Most people hadn’t met Kobe, but everyone in L.A. felt like they knew him. The refrain that echoed that week was repeated by Carlos Villasenor, who told me: “It feels like a family member passed away.” That was natural, psychologists said, and common sense too: When you and your family bring someone into your living room night after night for 20 years, when you experience so many ups and downs with him, when you’ve watched him grow up and maybe grew up with him, yeah, it’s going to feel that way.

And Kobe represented us. His aesthetic, his artistry, his ambition and audacity – all of it flew in the face of assumptions that L.A. is somehow vapid and without substance.

Because the thing that Kobe championed most was hard work. Hard work and passion. And even if you weren’t a Lakers fan, or a fan of sportball at all, if you’re from here, you know. That’s what’s up.

And now, these wretched wildfires. The Palisades and Eaton fires and others that darkened our sky and sent us scattering. That destroyed more than 16,000 structures and took 28 lives, and basically wiped out the communities of Pacific Palisades and Altadena.

Even if we’re among the lucky, we know someone who wasn’t. We care about someone who wasn’t. We’ve probably been to those places and we definitely register how likely it was that disaster could have come to us in our homes too.

And so, instinctually, we ran plays to help. Teamed up and oversupplied supply drives, poured millions of dollars into GoFundMe campaigns. Fed each other and fostered each other’s pets. Artists got creative in support and teens found targeted ways to help other teens. Ingenuity abounds here.

It’s like we needed to move, to get together and do something. The anguished frenzy reminded me of the scene across the street from then-Staples Center in those days after Kobe’s death, when thousands of people gravitated to that block of restaurants and bars and a purple-and-gold memorial grew. And grew. And grew.

People came together from every pocket of our fragmented city, to mourn, to leave mementos and deeply personal notes, written in English and Spanish. With love, they placed original artwork and flowers and candles and basketballs and sneakers and an endless assortment of relics connecting fans with their Laker hero, the five-time NBA champion, 18-time All-Star, Oscar winner and proud Girl Dad.

I remember someone playing Tupac quietly. I remember being embraced by strangers, and trying to hold back tears.

I remember being proud of L.A., this diverse, audacious city – or collection of cities, technically – built in the desert by the ocean. Proud to live here and be from around here, to be raising my kids here and standing with everyone who feels the same way.

It’s how I’ve felt this month, too.

That’s what connects these L.A. moments, said Andrea Thabet, a historian, writer, researcher and native Angeleno who specializes in L.A.’s story.

“A unifying moment of collective trauma,” she called it, saying that it felt good “seeing people marvel about how much people love Los Angeles, or love people in Los Angeles. How much people want to come together, how people sprung into action so quickly … I was glad to see other people who don’t know L.A. or live here, seeing the community that has been here all along.”

That includes Kobe and his family, of course. Vanessa, his widow, partnered with the nonprofit Baby2Baby and handed out essentials to children and then she showed up at Dodger Stadium with the Mamba & Mambacita Foundation to donate thousands of shoes.

On Instagram she shared some sentiments too, and man, if they didn’t strike a chord.

“Kob and I used to live in the Palisades when we first got married… we have so many beautiful memories from living in L.A.,” she wrote. “There are no words to make all the loss and devastation any better. My heart and prayers go out to everyone in LA who are affected by the fires.

“We love you, L.A. #LASTRONG.”