French media reported that firefighters were sent to the site in the southern port city after the facade of the Russian consulate was struck by two explosive devices.

Fire crews in San Bernardino have rescued a woman trapped in an underground storm drain. She was safely removed and taken to a hospital for a check-up, with no visible injuries.

About 100 people have been evacuated and 125 firefighters are tackling a fire at Chiltern Firehouse.

On the night of October 8, 2017, a small fire ignited near the northern tip of Napa Valley. Hot, dry winds gusting up to 80 miles an hour drove the blaze southwest toward the city of Santa Rosa, where it hopped over Highway 101––six lanes wide at that point––into neighborhoods, including one called Coffey Park. Nearly everything in that subdivision, including 1,422 houses, burned completely.

Yet today, a casual visitor would not think the neighborhood was the site of a recent catastrophe, instead finding custom homes with tidy yards, clean sidewalks, and trees that have matured into juveniles. That’s because Coffey Park residents rebuilt and reoccupied 80 percent of the houses there within three years. The recovery wasn’t total. Five Coffey Park residents died in the fire. Some people decided to relocate. A few lots remain empty. But the community has endured, and in many ways is thriving, or so several residents told me after I knocked on their doors last month, looking for lessons that could be useful for people displaced by the recent Los Angeles–area fires in Pacific Palisades and Altadena.

What do you know now, I asked dozens of residents, that you wish you had known when you lost your house? I also asked local officials for their reflections on how to rebuild.

Santa Rosa, with roughly 175,800 residents, is far smaller than Los Angeles (population 3.8 million), let alone L.A. County (population 9.7 million), with many attendant differences in how the local government runs. And the number of structures destroyed in the Palisades and Altadena fires combined is nearly three times what Santa Rosa lost in 2017. But like Pacific Palisades and Altadena, Santa Rosa lost whole neighborhoods that no one expected to be consumed by wildfire, including Coffey Park.

[M. Nolan Gray: How well-intentioned policies fueled L.A.’s fires]

Santa Rosa officials emphasized to me that, in their experience, recovery requires local government to be flexible. But perhaps the most important transferable lesson that I gathered on my visit there, one touted by both residents and officials, is that neighbors can hasten their area’s recovery if they organize. Banding together helped Coffey Park residents in conflicts and negotiations with federal, state, and local officials. And it didn’t just yield more political power. It helped neighbors benefit from one another’s strengths, compensate for their own weaknesses, and create a stronger sense of community than before.

At 9:45 p.m. on the night the fire started, Von Radke was upstairs in the two-story house in Coffey Park where he and his wife had lived for more than 25 years. He’d undergone hip-replacement surgery two weeks prior and was turning in early. He recalls the wind blowing mightily as he drifted off to sleep. Hours later, he woke up and smelled smoke, but, groggy from painkillers, he at first dismissed it. Eventually he woke his wife, Jan, and hobbled downstairs. When he looked out a window, he saw embers in the air and 40-foot-tall Italian cypress trees bending 45 degrees in the wind.

It was past time to flee. But just backing out of the driveway took five minutes. The whole neighborhood was trying to evacuate. Traffic stopped for 20 minutes or more. Von saw people trying to fight fires with garden hoses, and more and more houses aflame. He and Jan might need to flee on foot, he thought, knowing how hopeless that would be in his condition. “For the first time in my life, I thought I was going to die,” he recalled. Finally traffic started to move.

Like many others who saw the fire up close, Radke went on to suffer “a significant amount of PTSD,” he told me. When we spoke in the front yard of his rebuilt home, a small two-story house surrounded by a well-tended garden, he focused on the psychological needs of the survivors. In the months after the fire, while they were still scattered in various hotel rooms and rentals, some of his neighbors began convening to talk through their escape experiences, their struggles, and how to rebuild. The best-known gathering came to be called Wine Wednesdays; it still occasionally takes place. To work through his own experience, Radke said he found a therapist who donated his services to fire survivors.

“It’s psychologically challenging to let people help you––to go to the local school and pick through donations of hand-me-down clothing to get you through those first weeks––but it’s important to learn a bit of humility,” Radke said, “because people want to help and you need help.”

Once the fire was out, Coffey Park residents were eager to return to their properties, and confused and frustrated by not knowing when they would be allowed in. Jeff Okrepkie, who’d lived in the neighborhood for five years, craved reliable information, and had more ways of getting it than most: As a commercial-insurance agent, he had colleagues who dealt with homeowner’s insurance and contacts with developers and contractors.

What we need, he thought, is a forum where residents can gather to ask questions and get accurate answers from knowledgeable sources. He called a friend at a nearby junior college who agreed to donate use of its auditorium, and spread the word about a community meeting. Officials from the city, builders, and insurance experts were all on hand. “I thought I had done my good deed,” he told me. “Then people started asking me, ‘When is the next meeting?’”

[Read: What the fires revealed about Los Angeles culture]

With Sonoma County Supervisor James Gore, Okrepkie organized a bigger town hall, drawing hundreds of attendees to an arts center. At that gathering, Coffey Park residents divided themselves into five groups based on their addresses, and each group nominated a captain to represent them. Weekly meetings followed, and soon Okrepkie founded Coffey Strong, a nonprofit to help residents get back into their homes as quickly and easily as possible. “Organizing in that way helped us continue to share information, but more importantly, it legitimized us in the eyes of government agencies,” he said. “If they were contacted by Coffey Strong, it wasn’t one person calling; it was one person who represented thousands.”

The group began to solve problems no one had anticipated. When the neighborhood had been built, the developer had constructed walls around its edges that residents assumed belonged to the city but were in fact the responsibility of homeowners. Had residents known that earlier, they would have had the damaged walls hauled away during the free debris removal offered to them as part of disaster-relief efforts. Now they faced having to pay thousands of dollars for the walls’ removal, and still more to replace them piecemeal. Coffey Strong raised $500,000 for the project and persuaded contractors to donate labor.

After many of the initial hurdles to rebuilding had been cleared, the U.S. Postal Service told residents that instead of having mailboxes at their houses, as before, they’d now have centralized mailboxes, a proposal that many of them strongly rejected. “When your neighborhood burns down, it’s a total loss of control, and for a lot of people, rebuilding your home, which involves making a lot of choices, restores a sense of control,” Okrepkie said. “So when someone from the federal government comes and tells you, We’re doing this in a way that’s worse than what you had, and you have no control, it upsets people a lot.” Under pressure from Coffey Strong, as well as allies in the city, the Postal Service reversed course.

While Coffey Park residents were organizing, city staffers in Santa Rosa had to figure out how to support people affected by the fire citywide. Initially, the new demands were almost overwhelming: First responders were exhausted; municipal structures and infrastructure had been destroyed in the fire; city officials had to coordinate with Sonoma County, the state of California, FEMA, and more. Thousands of residents were displaced, all wanted information, and meanwhile, normal city business wore on.

Gabe Osburn was a municipal employee working in a role unrelated to fire recovery who lived in a house just beyond where the fire had reached. Feeling survivor’s remorse, he expressed interest to his boss in helping with the recovery. Osburn started attending community meetings for fire victims as a representative of the city and soon was assigned to advance fire recovery full-time on behalf of the planning department; he would be among the primary city employees working with residents to rebuild, and ultimately attended more than 300 meetings with fire victims, he told me. The goal, Osburn said, was not just to restore the 5 percent of the city’s housing stock that had been lost. “It was important for us to keep the fire victims here,” he said. “They were the fabric of our community.”

A metal heart at a park in the Coffey Park neighborhood commemorates the 2017 fire in Santa Rosa, California.

Early on, Osburn feared that the area’s small construction industry would be unable to supply enough contractors, laborers, and materials to rebuild affordably. As it turned out, free markets and assistance from flexible regulators was a powerful combination. Builders responded to the new demand for construction. And the city offered steep discounts on building permits, created a permitting center dedicated to fire recovery, and worked with surveyors to go through the areas most affected by the fire instead of requiring each resident to pay their own surveyor to clarify property lines. If residents wanted to change the footprint of their house, city planners worked with them. There were limits to what the city would allow, but multiple residents told me that the staff tried to get to yes, rather than insisting on strict adherence to the rules as they’d existed before the fire.

Walking around Coffey Park, I met some of the beneficiaries of that government flexibility. Julio Alvarez told me that he and his wife had been underinsured. A discount on permits enabled them to rebuild. And the ability to change their floor plan from two stories to one has helped the couple as they get older.

Rod Julianus was at first determined to rebuild his house exactly as it was. Then he thought better of it: The house had been filled with furniture that his late grandfather had made in a factory in Holland and given to his parents upon their marriage. He realized that if he rebuilt the same house with the same floor plan, he would spend the rest of his life looking at the spots where that furniture had been. Switching floor plans made his psychological recovery easier. He advises anyone planning to rebuild to consider if changes might help them, too.

Will Los Angeles be as good a municipal partner to its fire-affected residents as Santa Rosa was? L.A. officials have already started waiving some building requirements, and the city certainly has more resources than Santa Rosa. But I’ve heard horror stories from both homeowners and businesses about the city’s endlessly complex rules, so I fear that, because its bureaucracy is so big and difficult to navigate, it could fail the fire victims. (Pacific Palisades is part of the city of Los Angeles, while Altadena is an unincorporated community in L.A. County and will be subject to county building rules and agencies.)

[Nancy Walecki: The place where I grew up is gone]

Can residents of Altadena and Pacific Palisades improve their recovery by organizing themselves? There, I am more hopeful. Like any neighborhood, even a suburban one where the homes are mostly of similar size and value, Coffey Park is filled with people of all sorts. Knocking on its doors, I encountered friendly invitations to come inside and gruff suspicions that I was soliciting. I met professionals with contacts in industries as varied as home construction and therapy, canny people you’d want negotiating a lawsuit on your behalf, and warmhearted sorts you’d want commiserating with you after the loss of a wedding ring or a pet. As individuals, everyone in the neighborhood lacked something important that recovery required. Collectively, they had the qualities and connections they needed.

Santa Rosans have gotten used to sharing their knowledge with other communities that suffer from fires. Some of the advice they relayed to me was practical and time-sensitive. Remember to cancel your cable bill or home alarm system or land line so you don’t continue to be charged. Walk your lot with a metal detector before the rubble is hauled off. And start looking for and vetting contractors now––everyone who rebuilds will need one. When you find one, have a lawyer look at the contract. Before submitting a list of lost objects to your insurer, walk through a home-goods store to jog your memory of forgotten items. Residents also recommended resources including After the Fire, an organization that helps communities recover from wildfires, and United Policyholders, a nonprofit that helps insurance consumers.

Jeff Okrepkie now sits on the city council, and Gabe Osburn is the head of planning; both have shared what they’ve learned with officials and residents of Los Angeles, Maui (the site of the 2023 Lahaina fire), and beyond. As for Coffey Strong, the nonprofit is now inactive, having succeeded in its core mission: getting residents home. The group’s website remains online as a resource. Among its attestations: “Nobody can or should shoulder all of this alone.”

This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here.

So you’re a world leader and you’ve been threatened by the American president. What now? First, take some consolation: You’re not alone. The first two weeks of the second Trump administration have seen the White House trying to wring policy concessions from allies and adversaries both near and far.

Now to come up with a response. Simply ignoring Donald Trump is not an option. The United States wields so much power that even if you think the president is irrational or bluffing, you have to reply. Any leader must calibrate a response that will speak not only to Trump but also to their own domestic audience. This may be Diplomacy 101, but Trump will nonetheless expect your answer to be fully focused on him. “Trump doesn’t seem to have any concept that maybe other people have publics to which they’re accountable,” John Bolton, who served as national security adviser in his first term, recently told me.

As heads of state scramble for the best response, we’ve seen several different approaches. Each has clear upsides—but also some pitfalls.

Fight Fire With Fire

Example: Colombia. On January 26, President Gustavo Petro posted on X announcing that he’d turned back two American military planes full of deportees. “We will receive our citizens in civilian airplanes, without them being treated as delinquents,” he wrote. “Colombia must be respected.” Trump promptly threatened huge tariffs; Petro fired back, threatening tariffs of his own and saying, “You will never dominate us.” In the end, Petro agreed to accept military flights but also got assurances from the U.S. that Colombians would not be handcuffed or photographed, and would be escorted by Department of Homeland Security staff, not troops.

Why it might work: Trump doesn’t actually like conflict, so he might blink. (While the presidents sniped at each other, their respective aides were hammering out an agreement.) He also sometimes respects a bold, brassy response—just ask his good pal Kim Jong Un of North Korea.

Why it might not: If Trump had gone through with 25 or 50 percent tariffs, Colombia’s economy would have been devastated. It’s a high-risk play.

***

Make a Deal

Examples: Mexico, Panama, Denmark. These countries aren’t powerful enough to fight Trump outright, so they’re looking for a way to compromise. This weekend, the White House announced large tariffs on Mexican and Canadian goods, but this morning, Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum Pardo announced that she had struck a deal with Trump to avoid tariffs. “Mexico will reinforce the northern border with 10,000 members of the National Guard immediately, to stop drug trafficking from Mexico to the United States, in particular fentanyl,” she posted on X. “The United States commits to work to stop the trafficking of high-powered weapons to Mexico.” That’s a concrete commitment from Mexico and a rather vague one from the U.S., but it allows Mexico to escape tariffs and save some face. Elsewhere, Panama is promising to not renew an infrastructure agreement with China after Trump threatened to seize the Panama Canal. And Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen is offering the U.S. a chance to expand its presence on Greenland, even as she says the island is absolutely not for sale. “If this is about securing our part of the world, we can find a way forward,” she said.

Why it might work: Trump is fundamentally transactional, and in each of these cases he’s getting a win without having to do anything besides issue a threat.

Why it might not: Trump is getting a win without having to do anything besides issue a threat. He might be satisfied for now, but he also might conclude that you can be easily bullied—so he might come back for more later. Giving in to Trump could offend your domestic audience and win only a temporary reprieve.

***

Try Targeted Threats

Example: Canada. Facing similar tariffs to Mexico, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau initially announced his own tariffs. Trudeau’s list included a few particular goods produced in red states that support Trump, including Kentucky bourbon and Florida orange juice. At a press conference Saturday, Trudeau spoke directly to Americans. “Tariffs against Canada will put your jobs at risk, potentially shutting down American auto assembly plants and other manufacturing facilities,” he said. “They will raise costs for you, including food at the grocery store and gas at the pump.” Late this afternoon, Trudeau announced that he and Trump had struck a deal in which Canada made hazy commitments to border security in exchange for Trump pausing tariffs.

Why it might work: This strategy is effective for countries like Canada, large enough trading partners that they can inflict real pain on the U.S. economy—which gives their threats some heft. Trudeau's tariffs were also cleverly tailored for maximum political impact in the U.S.

Why it might not: Trump backed down now, but Canada still stands to lose more than the U.S., and Trump knows that Trudeau is a lame duck.

***

Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick

Example: China, the European Union. Trump has already imposed new tariffs on China and has threatened Europe as well. China’s government promised “necessary countermeasures to defend its legitimate rights and interests,” and French President Emmanuel Macron said today, “If our commercial interests are attacked, Europe, as a true power, will have to make itself respected and therefore react.” (Confidential to the Élysée: “True powers” don’t usually need to announce themselves as such.)

Why it might work: Trump doesn’t like conflict, has many reasons to work with American allies in Europe, and already lost a trade war with China in his first term. These vague threats are a sign of some strength, following Theodore Roosevelt’s maxim about foreign policy.

Why it might not: You think Trump’s going to be scared off by vague threats? This could just whet his appetite. Trump’s exchange with Petro suggests that threats work only if he thinks you really mean it.

Related:

What Trump’s finger-pointing reveals The price America will pay for Trump’s tariffs

Here are three new stories from The Atlantic:

Purging the government could backfire spectacularly. The Democrats show why they lost. The race-blind college-admissions era is off to a weird start.

Today’s News

Secretary of State Marco Rubio was appointed to be the acting administrator of the U.S. Agency for International Development, which Trump wants to shut down, according to Elon Musk. Trump signed an executive order that sets up plans for a U.S. sovereign-wealth fund. The fund could be used to pay for infrastructure projects and other investments, including buying TikTok, according to Trump. The Treasury Department reportedly gave Musk and members of the Department of Government Efficiency access to the federal payment system, which contains sensitive information for millions of Americans.

Dispatches

The Wonder Reader: “To stay in or to go out, that is the question,” Stephanie Bai writes. The cost-benefit analysis of weekend plans never ends.

Explore all of our newsletters here.

Evening Read

Illustration by The Atlantic. Source: Getty.

The Illegal Drug at Every Corner Store

By Amogh Dimri

To judge by the shelves of America’s vice merchants, the nation is in the grips of a whipped-cream frenzy. Walk into any vape store or sex shop, and you’ll find canisters of nitrous oxide showcased in window displays—ostensibly to catch the eye of bakers and baristas, who use the gas to aerate creams and foams. At the bodega near my apartment, boxes of up to 100 mini-canisters are piled up to eye level, next to Baby Yoda bongs.

In fact, culinary professionals generally don’t shop for equipment at stores with names like Puff N Stuff or Condom Sense. The true clientele inhales the gas to get high.

Read the full article.

More From The Atlantic

David Frum: The tasks of an anti-Trump coalition The truth about Trump’s Iron Dome for America If RFK Jr. loses Trump’s campaign to dismantle the government

Culture Break

Warner Bros. Entertainment

Watch. Companion (out in theaters) is a horror movie that has already given away its twist—but it has others in store, David Sims writes.

Celebrate. This year’s Grammys ceremony showcased the next generation of willful, distinct talents, Spencer Kornhaber writes.

Play our daily crossword.

Stephanie Bai contributed to this newsletter.

When you buy a book using a link in this newsletter, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.