Help Mimi and her family after the Eaton Fire

Hi, my name is Beth Kuchar, and I’m sure that by now you’ve heard the heartbreaking stories of so many people who have been impacted by the Eaton Fire. I realize that many of us are already experiencing donation fatigue, but let me share just one more story of someone who, until now, has always been on the other side of community service - working to raise awareness for local nonprofits and schools, and helping to strengthen our Pasadena ecosystem.

For many years now I’ve volunteered to support the greater Pasadena community alongside Mimi Carter. A little over a week ago, the same day as her daughter’s birthday, Mimi and her family lost everything in the Eaton Fire. They have lived in Altadena for over 20 years and now there is nothing left of their house and their entire neighborhood.

I’ve tried to imagine what it would feel like to lose everything I have, and I can’t even wrap my head around it. Please consider donating, big or small, to help the Carter family get back on their feet. They are the type of people who will more than pay it forward. If you are unable to contribute financially, sharing this campaign with others in your network would mean a lot.



This is an email Mimi sent to update her friends and family:

I don't know if I will be able to process this anytime soon. This will be my second time as a refugee, first fleeing the Vietnam war when I was 8 and now a devastating fire that consumed my entire community. All I truly know is that I am a single grain of sand in an ocean of grief and devastation.

We left at 7:30pm on Jan.7 when Holly saw our next door neighbors evacuating and urged us to do the same. Paul & I immediately ran around the neighborhood with our battery powered candles and gave them to our neighbors and urged them to evacuate. We left for my parents in Anaheim and the Ring camera signals and messages pinged us every few minutes.We lost our home in the conflagration in the early morning of January 8th, Sophie's birthday. It was gone in mere minutes, reduced to embers and charred remnants. I saw the fire's progress on my Ring camera, a surreal vision embedded in my permanent memory. We lost the home we loved and lived in for almost 15 years, in a community that is a part of my DNA, my heart and my soul. My 85 year old neighbor, Miss Jacqueline, who has lived in her cul-de-sac house for decades and whose sweet tooth was satiated by Paul's cookies or sweets. I don't know if she's okay.

We have opened our home to celebrations big and small, neighborhood meetings, friends' milestone birthdays and engagement parties, our daughters' sleepovers. Our home was the hub. I will forever miss hearing those teenage girls' silly slang talk and laughter. So many of them have reached out to tell me of happy memories in our home and I am so honored to hear from them. Paul & I have never had a celebration for ourselves and talked of a grand blow-out for our 25th anniversary in 2025. All we have left are memories and I think we will hold them close and cherish them as ephemeral treasures. Still, I count us fortunate because we are still here, starting over again.