
A lifelong resident of Pacific Palisades, adjusting to life after the fires
“You have to adapt and survive.” Pacific Palisades resident George Wilken is adjusting to life after wildfires ravaged his hometown.
LOS ANGELES — It’s not the flames that haunt firefighter Brett Klemme.
These are the pictures.
On Jan. 7, the day the Los Angeles wildfires broke out and forced mass evacuations, Klemme recalled, he walked into a burning house in Pacific Palisades and saw pictures of two young children that reminded him of his own.
Klemme, 39, said he felt a deep sense of satisfaction when he and other firefighters extinguished the flames at that house. They later returned to find the house burnt down.
“It was such a hard hit,” Klemme told USA TODAY during a recent interview. “I wanted to tell (homeowners) that we did everything we could to save your home.”
The wildfires have killed at least 28 people, destroyed more than 15,000 buildings and affected countless firefighters like Klemme. “We just have this guilt about what we could have done better,” he said.
The emotional toll suffered by firefighters may be easier to assess after the wildfires die down, suggested Hugo Catalan Jr., director of behavioral health services for the United Firefighters of Los Angeles City.
“Once (firefighters) get back to normal station life, that’s when we’ll start to see members trickle in and probably in large numbers,” said Catalan, one of four mental health therapists on staff.
Although Catalan said he is optimistic because firefighters are “one of the most resilient groups of people,” he also acknowledged concerns about self-harm.
The suicide rate for firefighters is 18 per 100,000, compared with 13 per 100,000 for the general public, according to research cited by the US Fire Administration.
“Everything went wrong for us”
Jeff Dill, who leads national suicide prevention workshops for firefighters, said he is concerned about the situation in Los Angeles.
“Emotions start to come into our lives like, ‘hey, I feel helpless, I feel guilty, I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing,'” said Dill, a retired fire captain who founded the Northern Lass Firefighters Behavioral Health Alliance Vegas, Nevada.
Emotional problems among firefighters are exacerbated by betrayal, according to Dill.
“Betrayal by management in terms of better equipment, better pay, more people, less overtime so that we are not exhausted and drained,” he said.
Klemme, the firefighter who said he saw pictures of young children inside the burning Pacific Palisades house, doesn’t blame anyone for the struggles he and other firefighters have faced trying to better contain the damage. But he pointed out that they ran out of water and had no radios as they battled hurricane-force winds for the first 24 hours.
“It all went wrong for us,” Klemme said.
Observing the situation from his office in North Las Vegas, Dill said, “When we see what’s going on in L.A., I’m starting to get scared...I have 34 plus years in the fire service and now I see my brothers and sisters responding without water. Or they don’t have enough facilities when people call and say I need help, I’m trapped and they can’t get to them.
“It’s a big problem in our fire culture. And yet, knowing this, we are still culturally brainwashed that when we put on this uniform, we must react, act strong, bold, bold, give help, not ask for help.
Gallows humor in the firehouse kitchen
The door closest to the back entrance of Fire Station #69 in Pacific Palisades leads to a room with a large picnic-style table.
The kitchen table, that’s what they call it.
“Probably the most therapeutic room in the world,” said Mike Romero, 50, a firefighter who works as an apparatus operator. “Many problems are solved here. At least we think.’
On a recent afternoon, firefighters filtered into the room, where up to 20 of them huddled around the kitchen table before their shift each morning.
“Do you know why chiefs’ badges are gold?” one firefighter asked a visitor. “It’s from all the melted wedding rings.”
The gallows humor was welcome as the table hummed with chatter. About the houses that “exploded” in the fires. On the need to celebrate “small victories” like partially preserved structures. And about the value of gathering at the kitchen table.
“We’re good at knowing when someone is out and needs an arm around them,” said Brian Sacramone, 58, a firefighter and paramedic. “But we could be better.”
A small memorial outside the firehouse serves as a sobering reminder. Inscription on painted rock: “Tear up our brother Dan ‘The Ram’ Ramirez.”
Daniel Ramirez, a 23-year veteran firefighter and paramedic, husband and father of three grown sons, died by suicide on August 1, 2023.
He was 56.
Ramirez was on leave due to physical injuries, according to Capt. Eric Nakamaru of Fire Station #69.
Sacramone recalled how he and other firefighters visited Ramirez in 2023. and the time together is marked by loud laughter.
Friction between generations
The spirit of the kitchen table permeates a peer support program where firefighters are trained to support others who may be reluctant to talk to a licensed therapist.
Catalan, director of the union’s behavioral health program, said he believes firefighters, especially younger ones, experience less stigma about mental health.
“There’s always friction between the older generation, the new generation, and they’re like, ‘Oh, they’re too soft. They don’t put work before their lives,” Catalan said. “And I tell some of these younger firefighters that it’s healthy to say, ‘No, I want to go home.’ I want to be with my family.’ Because we’ve also seen a lot of people who are older and then retire and have nothing else…
“Most of the guys who are on the union board, and even the president, will tell you that they’re from a generation that sucked and they’re not that in tune with mental health. A lot of it is new to them.”
Sacramone, the Pacific Palisades firefighter paramedic, said asking for help is no longer seen as weakness — a sign of a changing culture in a dangerous and stressful profession.
The annual We Remember Night, started by the Nevada Firefighter Behavioral Health Alliance a decade ago, will be held on May 16.
Fire platforms will be lit and candles will be lit in memory of the firefighters and those in EMS and dispatch who took their own lives – and for the families who have suffered the tragic loss.