lives, and basically wiped out the communities of Pacific Palisades and Altadena.

Even if we’re among the lucky, we know someone who wasn’t. We care about someone who wasn’t. We’ve probably been to those places and we definitely register how likely it was that disaster could have come to us in our homes too.

And so, instinctually, we ran plays to help. Teamed up and oversupplied supply drives, poured millions of dollars into GoFundMe campaigns. Fed each other and fostered each other’s pets. Artists got creative in support and teens found targeted ways to help other teens. Ingenuity abounds here.

It’s like we needed to move, to get together and do something. The anguished frenzy reminded me of the scene across the street from then-Staples Center in those days after Kobe’s death, when thousands of people gravitated to that block of restaurants and bars and a purple-and-gold memorial grew. And grew. And grew.

People came together from every pocket of our fragmented city, to mourn, to leave mementos and deeply personal notes, written in English and Spanish. With love, they placed original artwork and flowers and candles and basketballs and sneakers and an endless assortment of relics connecting fans with their Lakers hero, the five-time NBA champion, 18-time All-Star, Oscar winner and proud Girl Dad.

I remember someone playing Tupac quietly. I remember being embraced by strangers, and trying to hold back tears.

I remember being proud of L.A., this diverse, audacious city — or collection of cities, technically — built in the desert by the ocean. Proud to live here and be from around here, to be raising my kids here and standing with everyone who feels the same way.

It’s how I’ve felt this month, too.

That’s what connects these L.A. moments, said Andrea Thabet, a historian, writer, researcher and native Angeleno who specializes in L.A.’s story.

“A unifying moment of collective trauma,” she called it, saying that it felt good “seeing people marvel about how much people love Los Angeles, or love people in Los Angeles. How much people want to come together, how people sprung into action so quickly … I was glad to see other people who don’t know L.A. or live here, seeing the community that has been here all along.”

That includes Kobe and his family, of course. Vanessa, his widow, partnered with the nonprofit Baby2Baby and handed out essentials to children and then she showed up at Dodger Stadium with the Mamba & Mambacita Foundation to donate thousands of shoes.

On Instagram she shared some sentiments too, and man, if they didn’t strike a chord.

“Kob and I used to live in the Palisades when we first got married … we have so many beautiful memories from living in L.A.,” she wrote. “There are no words to make all the loss and devastation any better. My heart and prayers go out to everyone in LA who are affected by the fires.

“We love you, L.A. #LASTRONG.”