Sorry sports fans, this column isn’t about Bruin
athletics. It’s about something more important, something
that many of us never hear about.
You see, I have this buddy named Sean. Sean and I grew up
together, played Little League together, went to high school
together and became pretty good friends over the years. You can
imagine how happy I was when, after I got accepted to UCLA, Sean
decided to play baseball here in Westwood.
Sean and I grew up in Scripps Ranch, a nice little suburb of San
Diego. “The Ranch” is an upper-middle class
neighborhood that is usually relatively quiet. Scripps continued to
be quiet until Sunday, Oct. 26 when crackling flames tore through
our peaceful community.
Because a lost hunter with the IQ of a speed bump decided to
start a signal fire in dry brush, and because the Santa Ana winds
are pretty wicked this time of year, 348 families in Scripps Ranch
are now without homes. Sean’s family should have been one of
the unlucky ones.
“I woke up for practice at 8:30 and a friend called me and
said “˜I don’t want to alarm you, but I am watching the
news on TV and a helicopter camera is showing your house on
fire,'” Sean said to me.
Sean, obviously upset at the thought of losing the centerpiece
of his childhood, attempted to continue with his day.
“I went to practice, and went into Coach (Gary)
Adams’ office. He immediately asked how close the fire was to
my house,” Sean continued. “I told him that my house
had already caught, and he told me that I could go home, or do
whatever I needed.
“Word traveled through the team, and everybody was showing
a lot of concern,” Sean said.
At the end of practice, when the team came into a huddle, like
they always do, junior Brandon Averill addressed the team.
Averill called on his teammates to help their distraught friend,
and the team responded astoundingly.
Because Sean’s parents had likely lost most of their
family photographs, the Bruin baseball players and their families
bought him a camera and a blank photo album to help start a new
collection.
Because Sean’s family would be out of a place to live if
their house had in fact burnt down, numerous players offered their
houses to Sean’s parents temporarily.
Because they knew how heavily the situation was weighing on
Sean’s mind, teammates constantly called him, asking him how
he was doing.
Because kind feelings were not enough for some of the players,
they cut substantial checks made out to Sean to help his family try
to relocate their lives.
Because the team wanted to do everything to help their teammate,
Sean knows that he has another family here at UCLA.
“It was completely overwhelming,” Sean said.
“We really are like a family. We all practice together, go to
class together, live together. What these guys showed me during
that tough time really was amazing.”
The most amazing thing about the vast support that Sean’s
teammates offered was that they did so without knowing for certain
the fate of Sean’s house. As it turned out, baseball had
something to do with saving Sean’s house as well as saving
Sean’s sanity.
“The best we can figure,” Sean said, “is that
a fireman dumped out a bucket full of baseballs that was in our
back yard and used pool water to put out the fires.”
Sean is lucky to still have a house standing. Many of our
friends and neighbors are not so fortunate. I can only hope that
once the flames subside, and once the smoke clears, others will
find the support Sean found that day.
“We are really lucky,” he said. “It’s a
miracle that my house made it.”
Sean is right. He really is lucky.
Go to scrippsranch.org to find out how you can help
displaced families. E-mail David at
dgrahamcaso@media.ucla.edu.