New Ills for the Neediest

Dreams of a better life ended for farm laborer Armillo Aparicio when wildfires destroyed his family’s single-wide trailer home.

“Everything was burned,” said Aparicio, 27, the father of three, whose home was on a section of San Diego’s San Pasqual Indian Reservation, known as Little Tijuana because of the large number of Mexican immigrants who live there. “We were not able to get anything out.”

The Aparicios had been renting their trailer for $350 a month from a San Pasqual tribal member when the Paradise fire swept through Oct. 23. They moved in with a friend of his sister. Now, 10 people cram into the three-bedroom house, jostling for sleeping space on shared mattresses, sofas and floors.

The predicament is typical for dozens of immigrant families, many of them seasonal migrant workers, who scratch out a sparse existence on San Diego’s numerous Indian reservations, depending on agricultural labor and odd jobs to survive.

The Paradise fire burned across rugged terrain north of Escondido, destroying 176 homes and 192 outbuildings and killing two people. Two Indian reservations -- San Pasqual and Rincon -- were particularly hard hit. Officials said the actual number of properties burned could be much higher because of the scores of mobile homes and trailers that were located on Indian reservations and therefore under the jurisdiction of the tribal authorities. Those properties have not been fully accounted for.

Although the Cedar fire to the south has received more attention because it was far more destructive, officials said the Paradise fire has taken a heavy toll on those who could afford it least.

“They were already poor,” said Ellen MacPhee, a religious education coordinator at St. Stephen’s Catholic Church in Valley Center, about 35 miles from San Diego, who has spent recent weeks organizing the church’s donation and fire victims assistance campaign. “A lot of them don’t have checking accounts. They are renting. So now they have absolutely nothing.”

Many live on Indian reservations because housing is less expensive than in the urban centers and work is more readily available on surrounding farms and in people’s homes.

In Valley Center, county officials estimate that about 90 families, many of them migrant workers, lost their homes. The exact number is unknown because some of the laborers are undocumented and it is widely believed that they are afraid to seek assistance.

The blackened, undulating landscape of much of San Pasqual is littered with heaps of charred and twisted metal, remnants of dozens of rickety trailer homes that many of the migrant residents who were renting doubt will ever be replaced.

Lacking insurance and savings, most families have found shelter in the homes of friends and relatives, in some cases worsening already cramped living conditions.

“What this [crisis] is going to do is exacerbate incredible overcrowding,” said Claudia Smith, border project director for the California Rural Legal Assistance Foundation in Oceanside. “People don’t live only in encampments anymore, but they live in substandard, overcrowded conditions. They even rent parts of living rooms.”

With no place else to go, officials say, some families have been living in their cars. Aparicio said he was determined to save some of the $1,000 or so a month he earns plucking plants and loading trucks at a local commercial nursery. He wants to use the savings to get a new home where he and his family can live independently again.

“I just want a place where I can live with my family and not with other people,” he said.

Food and clothing have become even harder to acquire for immigrants forced to share living quarters. Many now rely on donations from benefactors and local churches.

At St. Stephen’s Catholic Church, where fire victims are given socks, underwear, bedding, towels, blankets, pillows and toiletries, 75 to 100 people have come to the church seeking help since relief became available Monday, said MacPhee, the church representative.

With her 6-month-old baby Erica strapped to her chest with a blanket fashioned as a holster, Maria Nicolas sifted through racks of shirts, pants and jackets and picked through boxes of shoes Thursday, trying to find items that would help piece together her life. A few days earlier, she had collected blankets and sheets from the church, but her list of essential items was long.

Nicolas and her husband lost everything when flames destroyed the two-bedroom trailer they were renting for $550 a month. The couple narrowly escaped the blaze with Erica and their 4-year-old son Nicholas. They sat in their car for several hours in the parking lot of an abandoned supermarket, unsure of where to go for help. A friend eventually agreed to take them in.

With her husband unemployed and standing on street corners every morning hoping that someone will pick him for a job from among the dozens of other men waiting for curbside hires, Maria Nicolas said, he worries whether the family will ever be able to get back on its feet. And she is still haunted by the prospect of becoming a fire victim once more.

“I have a lot of fear that it might happen again,” said Nicolas, 23, who came to the United States from Guatemala six years ago. “As soon as we hear the [fire engine] sirens, we panic.”

County officials said they were trying to encourage members of the immigrant community not to be afraid to seek help at emergency assistance centers. Though some advocacy groups believe officials need to do more to make the immigrant communities aware of fire aid available.

It took Victor Raul Hernandez, a Mexican ranch hand at a chicken farm in San Pasqual, a week to find out about the county’s assistance site at Valley Center. His boss eventually informed him.

“I didn’t know they were located there and offering help,” said Hernandez, 50, who lost personal belongings that were stored in his garage, including furniture, truck parts, kitchen utensils and tools. The fire razed the garage but spared his house.

“My concern was there was no discernible attempt from the point of view of transmitting messages through the Spanish-language media,” said Smith, the rural legal assistance representative, noting that in times of crisis it is often the Latino immigrant community that is forgotten.

County officials said greater efforts are being made to disseminate information in Spanish through the media, and poster and fliers were being distributed in English and Spanish stating that assistance is available for everyone.Despite the obstacles, many Valley Center families said they were determined to rebuild their lives.

“I’m going to keep working and get back on track,” Hernandez said.

“So many of them started out with nothing, but they are very resourceful people.” added Olivia Leschick, an administrator for Migrant Education, a federally funded academic program for agricultural workers. The group is aware of at least 30 migrant families with school-age children who lost their homes. “They are survivors.”