The Brief

This spring marks the end of an era for the Community Solidarity Project, a mutual aid nonprofit with a longstanding footprint in Mid-Wilshire. It will no longer run Bernie’s Coffee Shop, a community space located in the historic landmark Johnie’s Coffee Shop, famous for appearing in The Big Lebowski and Miracle Mile.

This year, the organization also stopped running a free supply center called the “Really Really Free 99 Store.” The Community Solidarity Project has provided mutual aid to Angelenos for years and started the distribution center last year to help those affected by the L.A. fires and immigration raids.

Co-founder Michelle Manos is the first to admit she had no idea any of her organization’s projects would last as long as they did.

“If you would've told me in 2016 that we would have a 10-year run here, I might have looked at you like you're crazy or I might have died of shock right there on the spot,” Manos said.

The use of Bernie's Coffee Shop as a community space traces back to the 2016 Bernie Sanders campaign.

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Manos has been a steward of Johnie’s Coffee Shop ever since she helped throw a one-night takeover during Bernie Sanders’ 2016 presidential campaign (that’s how it got the name Bernie’s Coffee Shop). From then, she started a partnership with the Gold family to continue to use the space — first as a campaign center, then as a hub for organizers’ meetings, mutual aid distribution, art events and even on-location shoots with student filmmakers.

Manos said she is “ extraordinarily grateful” for their time in the space, as the Community Solidarity Project looks to extend its work running a free, volunteer-run, large-scale mutual aid distribution site. In order to do so, it is raising the funds to be able to continue operating in a new space.

Getting the project off the ground

The “Really Really Free 99” project started at the beginning of last year, as Los Angeles was reeling from the impact of the L.A. fires. The team at the Community Solidarity Project immediately pivoted to providing mutual aid for fire victims, since it had built up the experience during events like the COVID-19 pandemic.

Following those distribution drives, the Community Solidarity Project connected with a multinational mutual aid organization that had an extra tractor trailer’s worth of resources to donate.

At that moment, with the then-vacant location of the 99 Cents Only store right next door, Manos realized there was an opportunity. The coffee shop and the adjacent store are owned by the family of Dave Gold, the founder of the 99 Cents Only chain.

“I reached out to our partners in the Gold family, and I asked for and received permission to be able to start storing those items inside the 99 next door, which is the original 99 Cents store here at Wilshire and Fairfax,” she said.

From there, the organization started to focus on giving out these supplies and finding more about what residents needed. The Community Solidarity Project’s Ralph Green maintains many of the organization’s relationships with suppliers, including building partnerships with brands and big stores that might otherwise throw out materials.

“They know it's going right back out to the community,” Green said.

The Free 99 distribution center offered all kinds of goods, including hats and apparel.

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Green said the Community Solidarity Project also partners with mutual organizations across Southern California in order to share and trade the resources they’ve been given.

“My personal philosophy as an organizer has always been to say yes to resources and opportunities and then figure it out,” Manos said.

That often means the organization’s members and volunteers end up dedicating large amounts of time to ensuring resources get shared — like one day when Rosalind Jones traversed L.A. County for 14 hours to distribute about 10 pallets’ worth of plant-based ice cream.

“When I tell people our core team is like six or seven people, they're like, ‘That sounds impossible. How did you do that?’” said Jones, who ran the Free 99 distribution center. “I don't know. It just happened. We just started moving things and doing stuff, and then it all came together.”

Some displays at the distribution center, like this one, even resembled a free version of the 99 Cents Only store.

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About the Free 99

As more and more donations came into the Free 99, it distributed food, hygiene products and other necessities, plus other goods like family-planning supplies and hot meals when available. Eventually, it was able to accept donations of beds, desks and bookcases so people displaced by the Eaton Fire could refurnish their apartments for free with quality furniture.

Members of the Community Solidarity Project unloading furniture.

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Karla Estrada, who ran the organization’s furniture distribution program, said they were able to give out more than 150 pieces of furniture to 70 families. She said one woman who came in for furniture even showed her pictures of a new apartment, excited to show off where everything would be going. Estrada said when the woman was saying goodbye, she said, “Thank you for saving the world.”

“That is why we do the things that we do,” Estrada said. “It's because we love our communities. That itself is the gift for me, and I'm very proud of that work.”

Rosalind Jones said many people who came into the distribution center couldn’t believe they weren’t being charged. Some even came up to the checkout counter with bills in hand, ready to pay.

She says she personally assisted people who came in, including an unhoused trans woman who distributed supplies to others in her encampment and a mother whose husband was detained by immigration agents and needed help taking care of her two children.

The end of an era

As of last month, the “Really Really Free 99” project has ended after the landlord began taking on paid leases, starting with a 99 Cents Only-themed art show. The Community Solidarity Project’s leadership was aware of the possibility and had been bracing no longer to have access to the space.

Still, the Free 99 store being asked to leave turned into a flashpoint on social media, as commenters panned the art show for seemingly pushing out the mutual aid group, a situation Manos called “unfortunate.”

 ”We never had any issue with the gallery itself or the artists themselves, especially the local, smaller artists who had the opportunity to work with some of the larger artists that were participating in organizing that gallery,” Manos said. “We're well aware that when a local artist sells a piece of art, they use it to feed their family, they use it to make a repair on their car.”

Manos said she also saw value in how the pop-up gallery provided a third space for people to gather, which is also part of the Community Solidarity Project’s mission with spaces like Bernie’s Coffee Shop.

The Community Solidarity Project's Michelle Manos (left) and Rosalind Jones.

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“If we can find more ways to use spaces that are empty around our city to build community, to build the arts, those things are important,” Manos said.

Manos said vacating the space was difficult, especially since community members — many of whom they didn’t have contact information for due to privacy concerns — needed to be notified, and the store’s stock needed to be moved out quickly.

The Community Solidarity Project now is being asked to leave that space as Metro prepares to open a nearby D-Line stop — no word yet on what it’ll be replaced by — but its members are optimistic they can build on that work as a proof of concept wherever they land next.

“Part of the fantastical part to me is that we're a group of poor people that has found a way to be extraordinarily generous, and it's not something that we could have done alone,” Manos said.

Their hopes for the future

Manos said now that the organization is starting a new chapter, it is hoping to raise funds — at least $30,000 — to secure a new, more permanent location.

Long before running the Free 99 store, the Community Solidarity Project organized other kinds of mutual aid, like mask giveaways.

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“We would hope to be able to continue a version of the free store, as well as a version of the community gathering space,” Manos said. “That has been the magical part, when the community is here and when we're able to pay it forward.”

In addition to monetary donations, the organization also is looking for volunteers to help coordinate mutual aid and staff events, including its annual Queer Fair.

“We're not exceptional in that we thought of something that's never been done before,” Jones said. “We just did something that seemed like it was really hard and seemed like it might even be impossible with the resources and the amount of people we had. But we did it.”

Gov. Gavin Newsom announced Friday that he has requested a yearlong extension of FEMA funding for L.A. fire survivors. Without the extension, the money will run out July 9.

Now the decision on FEMA support lies with the federal government.

The funds have allowed many survivors to afford temporary housing and other daily needs. Most have yet to return home — 2 in 3 survivors who were living in Altadena or Pacific Palisades at the time of the fires are still displaced, according to the latest survey of more than 2,100 survivors by the nonprofit Department of Angels. Nearly 40% of respondents reported they will either soon run out of temporary housing insurance coverage or have already.

The situation is particularly dire for low-income households: Nearly 80% of respondents making $50,000 or less said they didn’t think they could afford housing for three months once coverage ended.

“The data is clear: This recovery is not over,” said Angela Giacchetti of the Department of Angels at a news conference organized by the Eaton Fire Collaborative in Altadena on Thursday. “If you are a survivor, you know this in your bones. For many families, it has barely begun. People have just begun to stabilize. We need federal support that reflects the scale of this disaster and systems that survivors can actually navigate and access over time.”

FEMA assistance isn’t reaching most survivors

The FEMA Individuals and Households Program can provide funding for survivors of disasters to pay for temporary housing, repair their homes, and respond to other challenges that insurance may not cover. It can also help cover costs if a survivor has no insurance.

Gil Barel has been relying on FEMA funds to pay rent on a small back house for herself and her son for the last year. She said they still haven’t been able to return to their rent-controlled Pasadena apartment because of smoke damage, though she still has to pay the rent for it.

Gil Barel is paying rent on a smoke-damaged apartment in Pasadena while FEMA funds have helped her cut the cost of temporary housing.

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Barel doesn’t know what they’ll do if the FEMA funding runs out.

“ I'm really stressed out,” she said. “I think I'm just kind of trying to put that thought aside and hope for the best.”

But in the 15 months since the fires, most survivors have not accessed FEMA funding. About 60% have received no FEMA assistance beyond the initial $770 payments dispersed in the immediate aftermath of the fires, according to the Department of Angels survey.

Many have faced denials, according to disaster case manager workers with Catholic Charities of L.A. and lawyers with Legal Aid Foundation of L.A.

That’s the situation for Gayle Nicholls-Ali and her husband, Rasheed, who lost their Altadena home of 15 years in the Eaton Fire. They’ve relied on their insurance to pay for a rental in Montrose, but that’s rapidly running out. And because they have that insurance, FEMA has denied further support.

Gayle Nicholls-Ali and her husband, Rasheed, lost their home in the Eaton Fire. They plan to rebuild, but the cost is a major hurdle.

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“A lot of our ALE [Additional Living Expenses insurance] is going to run out before we even are able to get into a house,” Nicholls-Ali said.

Without FEMA or insurance support, they’ll have to find a way to pay rent on top of a mortgage. They also face a big gap in the cost of their rebuild versus how much their insurance covers. Nicholls-Ali said without the help of FEMA and other sources of funding, recovering feels further out of reach.

Funds for long-term recovery still in limbo

FEMA funding extensions have been routine in past disasters, including the 2023 wildfires in Hawaii and after devastating flooding in North Carolina in 2024.

But the agency has faced significant cuts during the second Trump administration, and there are indications that disaster aid is becoming increasingly political. For example, President Donald Trump has approved aid for just 23% of requests from states with a Democratic governor and two Democratic senators, compared to 89% for states that with Republican governors and senators, according to an analysis by Politico.

The state has also not received more than $33 billion for long-term recovery, which can help pay for infrastructure upgrades and repairs, as well as help rebuild schools, parks and homes. That money was requested by state and local leaders shortly after the January 2025 fires and hasn’t been appropriated by Congress.

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

Rabbi Amy Bernstein says the wind-whipped fire in January 2025 that scorched much of the Pacific Palisades, destroying her home and damaging her synagogue, “blew everything open” for the community’s faith leaders.

“If our hearts must break, let them break open,” said the rabbi, who leads Kehillat Israel where 300 families out of 900 lost their homes. “This tragedy has really pushed us closer to one another. We’re working to change the things we need changed.”

Faith leaders both in the Pacific Palisades and in Altadena and Pasadena — devastated by the pair of fires that tore across Southern California — have relied on interfaith and community partnerships to rally congregants who are picking up the pieces 16 months later.

They’ve had to learn on the fly about insurance coverage and local land use regulations while still trying to keep their scattered flock together and raising money for basic needs. Pastors in Altadena have had to fight to protect the rights of Black people who decades ago found pathways to home ownership in that community despite redlining — but now risk losing their land to outside developers who sense an investment opportunity.

And throughout this span, faith leaders have had to cater to the emotional and spiritual needs of their communities and think about how they want to rebuild their sanctuaries that were lost or damaged in the fire. More than a dozen houses of worship burned to the ground or were damaged.

Interfaith relationships have become stronger after the fires

This would have been difficult for faith leaders to handle but for the interfaith relationships that became closer and stronger after the fires, said the Rev. Grace Park, associate pastor at Pacific Palisades Presbyterian Church, which burned down.

Methodists, Presbyterians, Catholics, Jews and yogis have not just found common ground in human suffering and loss, but have learned how to lean on one another in a time of dire need, she said.

“It’s a sense of mutual affection and respect, learning from each other and leaning on one another,” Park said. “We’re sharing the joys and the deep valleys of what it means to lead through a time of tragedy.”

Brother Satyananda, a senior monk at the Self Realization Fellowship, lost his living quarters and belongings in the fire. Much of the campus, started by Paramahamsa Yogananda who brought ancient spiritual practices from India to the West, fortunately survived the fire.

Satyananda recalls one day when Bernstein picked up on his sadness and offered him “motherly compassion.”

“We share the same profession where we’re tuned to people in need,” he said. “Now, our relationship has changed because we’re tuning into each other. There’s a greater level of trust.”

Pastor BJ King, who leads LoveLand LifeCenter, worked with the late Rev. Cecil B. Murray to heal communities and build interfaith coalitions after the 1992 Los Angeles riots.

“Back then, there was a choice whether or not to get involved,” he said. “But with these fires, there is no choice. It has affected everybody.”

Pastors have had to acquire new skills

King’s congregation has switched to online services after their leased church building in Altadena suffered smoke damage. Twelve families lost their homes. In addition to helping meet people’s basic needs, King has created a program organizing gatherings to connect therapists with those in need of mental health.

“Many people didn’t even know they needed that,” he said.

One of the most powerful roles faith leaders have played after the fire is to “continue to talk with power, people in charge,” said Pastor Jonathan DeCuir, who leads Victory Bible Church in Pasadena. He and others in the region have continued to meet with local officials and even conferred with Gov. Gavin Newsom to keep things moving for their communities.

DeCuir chairs the board of a nonprofit called Legacy Land Project, which provides financial aid, legal support and guidance on building contractors, as well as medical care to those affected by the fires.

The disaster has brought a level of camaraderie that DeCuir says he has never seen among the region’s clergy.

“Denominational lines have been crossed,” he said. “Even if we have different theological stances or approaches to ministry, we are all now looking at how to care for our people and community. If we don’t come together, Altadena will never ever be the same. The people won’t be there anymore. That, to me, is terrifying.”

While a church is more than a building, physical churches do appear as “beacons of hope” in traumatized communities, said Pastor Mayra Macedo-Nolan, executive director of Clergy Community Coalition in Pasadena. Her group has lobbied for houses of worship to be prioritized on the same footing as businesses in the rebuilding plan.

“When people start seeing churches rebuilding in Altadena, they’re going to feel like it’s going to be OK because the churches are coming back,” she said.

Reimagining a purposeful future

Pastor Jonathan Lewis, fourth from right, holds a groundbreaking service at the site of the burned Fountain of Life Nazarene Church to mark the beginning of its rebuilding in Altadena, Calif., April 26, 2026.

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Members of the congregation join in prayer during the groundbreaking ceremony at the site of the burned Fountain of Life Nazarene Church, marking the beginning of its rebuilding, April 26, 2026, in Altadena, Calif.

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Pastor Jonathan Lewis poses for a photo with his congregation during a groundbreaking service at the site of the burned Fountain of Life Nazarene Church, marking the beginning of its rebuilding, April 26, 2026, in Altadena, Calif.

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On April 26, the Altadena Fountain of Life Church broke ground to build a new sanctuary after their house of worship, which had stood for over three decades, was destroyed in the fire. Pastor Jonathan Lewis, who ministers to about 75, hopes the church will be ready in time for Easter next year.

“It’ll be a Resurrection Sunday for our church, too,” he said.

Alexis Duncan, who grew up in Altadena attending that church, came to the groundbreaking with her 6-year-old daughter. She lost both her home and her church building.

“It means everything to me that they’re rebuilding because I want the church to be there for my daughter as she grows up,” she said. “This new beginning gives me and my family hope and the encouragement to come back.”

Some churches like Altadena Community Church, a United Church of Christ congregation, are pausing to rethink their future purpose. The Rev. Michael Lewis, who took over in February after the previous pastor retired, said the congregation is looking into several possibilities for the one-acre lot, including affordable housing.

“We know that a church is not intended to be a landlord and the pastor is no property manager,” he said. “But, we’re also thinking about who is able to return to Altadena? How will this rich, economically diverse community that was scattered by the fire come back?”

The church has been around since the 1940s. A haven for actors, poets and musicians, the former sanctuary also served as a vibrant performance space. Lewis said they hope to incorporate a performance stage into the new facility.

“It’ll look different from what we had before,” he said. “Once we figure out how to build community, we can decide what physical structures will help us support that community.”

As for Kehillat Israel, on May 15, members will carry their Torah scrolls back to their sanctuary, marking one of the first returns by a house of worship to the Palisades since the disaster.

Judaism has had “a long history of starting over,” Bernstein said.

“It’s encoded in our cultural approach to the world, that there are things that can always be taken away from you,” she said. “But what you become can never get taken away.”

The sky above Los Angeles State Historic Park in Chinatown will be dotted with color Saturday with the annual Kite Festival.

The festival had its beginnings as a joyful protest in 2021, back when a proposal for a Dodger Stadium gondola included cutting through the airspace above the park. Organizers say last year’s Kite Festival drew a crowd of about 7,000.

“The Kite Festival, [for] some people, it’s their favorite day in Los Angeles,” said Sue Bell Yank, executive director of Clockshop, the nonprofit arts org that runs the festival. “It’s the time when they really feel connected to their city. More so than any other time.”

This year’s programming includes a kite-making station where you can build your own flying art for a donation of $5, along with art workshops and the unveiling of a large floating, inflatable sculpture by Guatemalan kite artist Francisco Ramos.

An international team of disease detectives is now racing to connect with the more than two dozen passengers who disembarked the MV Honius cruise ship on the Atlantic island of St. Helena before the hantavirus outbreak was identified.

These individuals have flown across the world, including to the United States.

The risk of further spread of this virus is low since it requires close and prolonged contact with an infected individual — and those infected seem to transmit the virus for only a brief period of time. But public health officials want to make sure the outbreak is contained.

Here's how authorities are using the practice of contact tracing to contain the outbreak and keep the hantavirus from spreading.

Contact tracing 101

The concept of modern contact tracing dates to the 1930s and was part of an effort to stop the spread of syphilis. It involves locating the close contacts of anyone who may have been infected. "By identifying people who are at risk of infection," says Preeti Malani, an infectious disease physician at the University of Michigan, "you try to get ahead when people don't have symptoms yet with the goal of preventing the infection from continuing to propagate."

This is a well-tested approach for containing an infectious disease. "It's the oldest tool in the epidemiologic toolbox," explains Malani. "We thought about this a lot early in the pandemic with COVID. But we also do contact tracing for sexually transmitted infections, for things like meningitis and even measles."

Malani likens contact tracing to monitoring ripples in a pond, "trying to prevent those outer rings from propagating by isolating individuals and by identifying individuals who might be at risk of infection."

The idea that "there's a time period where people don't have symptoms but could be harboring the virus, that's what contact tracing helps identify," says Malani.

It starts by pinpointing someone with an infection or suspected infection of the disease in question — in this case, hantavirus. Epidemiologists then look to see with whom they've recently had close contact since these individuals are more likely to have been infected.

This hunt for those with the greatest probability of infection is important. "Otherwise, it becomes an impossible web to contain because everyone is connected to everyone," says Boghuma Titanji, an infectious diseases doctor at Emory University. "So you have to stratify by high, intermediate and low-risk contacts."

The next step involves public health agencies ordering precautions for those who are infected or who may be infected but aren't showing symptoms yet. Such measures may include quarantine, so that an individual doesn't come into contact with even more people — who may then become infected.

One challenge that hantavirus presents is that its incubation period can last up to several weeks. In other words, "people take a long time to become symptomatic after they've been exposed," says Titanji. "Some of these primary contacts would have to be monitoring themselves for symptoms for up to 45 days to be at the tail end of that very long incubation period."

Aboard and ashore

The work isn't high-tech but it is painstaking, requiring officials to reconstruct the many interactions someone may have had over days or weeks.

Onboard the cruise ship, "you might have an individual who is a source of an infection," says Titanji, laying out a hypothetical example. "And then they were sitting at a dinner table with one individual who then goes back to their cabin and shares a bed with their partner who has a conversation with someone else on the deck."

Once someone disembarks the ship, the number of potential interactions can grow quite quickly. This is why officials were concerned when a KLM flight attendant fell ill after being aboard a flight with one of the infected cruise ship passengers. Fortunately, the flight attendant ultimately tested negative for hantavirus.

Titanji is heartened by what she's seen playing out so far. "It seems like the international collaborative effort has been really robust and the mechanisms for containment are in place and underway," she says.

Public health officials argue that contact tracing is a powerful approach that will reduce further spread. "We can break this chain of transmission," said Abdi Mahmoud, the director of the World Health Organization's health emergency alert and response efforts, at a press conference on Thursday.

He has good reason to be confident. Contact tracing was vital during the fight against COVID-19 and helped end the Ebola crisis in Liberia, containing the epidemic there more than a decade ago. Some of the contact tracing even involved hours-long hikes through the jungle to a remote village.

Authorities are hoping for similar success with this hantavirus outbreak.
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