Robert D'Amore Fire Disaster Home Fundraiser

On October 24th, my father, Robert D’Amore’s, home of 20 plus years and neighborhood of 35 years in La Mission in Baja, California burned to the ground. The situation was so different than what we’ve seen in recent days here in California. The communication and news on the fire were minimal, with conflicting reports on where the fire was and where it was going. There was no evacuation plan, and such a small force of people warning neighbors and battling the fire.


I was in North Carolina when the fire broke out, and my godmother happened to see Facebook posts about the fire. She called me, and immediately I called my father, telling him to grab his medicine, paperwork and his photographs. He managed to make it down the hill through heaps of smoke and ash blowing all around him. He said it was a living hell as the flames were burning everything around him. 


Mexican, American, the fire did not discriminate, it burned right through walls and roofs exploding propane tanks all over the hillside. My father watched the explosions in disbelief and horror with his neighbors from the soccer field below.


My goal is to raise $30,000 to help my father rebuild his health, his home, and his life. The community needs help rebuilding and whatever  funds we can raise above and beyond his immediate we will use to help the people of La Misison.


Over 20 years ago, he built his house by hand for $5,000. I spent my childhood visiting my father in La Mission when there was no electricity, and horses and cows roamed free. There was cactus and dirt, and cowboys. All my days in Mexico were magic with my father. It was a kind of old western paradise. 


I loved inventing and creating and exploring with my Dad, and I have followed in his footsteps as a photographer focused is on weddings and families. I created my first real photographs there with his Rollieflex camera which helped me get into Art Center College of Design. 


My father is a master photographer. He devoted his life to his work and spent most of his life struggling. His house was filled with 50 plus years of photographs and tools. Photographs from the 60’s in Northern California, the 70’s in Paris, Spain and England, the 80’s to 2000’s in Baja, Mexico. There were so many stories in his house waiting all these years to be seen.  


There was a darkroom full of photographs, negatives, cameras and  enlargers, friend's artwork, letters from my uncle to my father, many family photos and special family heirlooms - these are now burnt amongst the ashes of his home. I was heading down there to visit in November to help organize and start archiving his incredible body of work. Anyone who is an artist and especially photographers will understand the loss the most and the guilt I feel for not doing it sooner. 


His dedication to his photography and his sense of humor, generosity, compassionate heart, sense of theater, story telling - it is all magical to me. He was proud of building his meager, simple house. Proud to have a roof over his head and to store the photography. He did as many trips into the house to save the artwork as he could with his bad leg. He said if he made one more trip, he would not have made it out. I have the best parts of him in me and I have him in my life still. I am so grateful for that. 


A friend bought my Dad a cell phone the other day, so we are finally able to communicate which is a huge relief. Someone else gave him a couple pairs of pants and some t shirts, socks, and underwear. I asked if he needed anything and he said, “please don’t buy me anything new.” He hates new things and is good reusing and recycling as most people are in Mexico with limited resources. I asked if he needed a jacket, he paused, and said yes. I asked if he had his diabetes medicine and glucose tester and he said no. It’s back to basics rebuilding a life for him. 


As photographers we spend our lives keeping records, stopping time, saving moments. We protect history with photographs that help build highways back in time to reconnect to emotion and identity and idea. Highways to growth, to happy times, sad times, to loved ones, places, change. We make moments permanent.


My Father spent his life housing records and artwork, so what the fire destroyed was more meaningful to him, me, our friends and family, the community, the art world than any other object inside. It’s incredible the weight and significance a simple piece of paper can carry and how fragile that is.


My Father is 76 and in pretty good shape for a diabetic with neuropathy who survived a serious carotid artery surgery a few years ago. He wants to rebuild his house and we are figuring out if the walls still have integrity, and how much rebuilding will cost. If we can't rebuild, then maybe we can use the funds raised to buy a mobile home or used RV. 


My Father is a proud man and he is frugal, but he is also generous. He has a huge heart. One of the first things he said to me was how sad he was for his neighbors and neighborhood and that he was so touched by how kind people have been to him. Someone bought him lunch the other day and he just couldn’t stop talking about that. 

I started this fund to help him raise money to rebuild his home. He is going to live a different kind of life now without carrying the weight of the past on his shoulders. He said he felt a sense of freedom he has never experienced before. He has spent so long struggling in the shadows surviving and I want him to be able to enjoy this next chapter of his life in the light.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart and my father's too.

Aurelia D'Amore



ps...
I also created an auction to sell original photographs if you are interested in contributing that way. 
Go Here For More Info
http://www.damore.biz/robert-richard-damore