Jeff Garris, a Retired Pittsburgh SWAT Officer, Faces a New Battle After Losing His Home
By Zach Armstrong
It happened again: Jeff Garris found himself making a valiant effort in the heat of a tragedy that would make headlines around the world.
Soon after receiving an evacuation order, he rushed to his new home at Pacific Palisades Bowl Mobile Estates to gather whatever belongings he could, then drove to his sister-in-law’s nearby home. Her neighbor, a bedridden 99-year-old woman, needed to be placed in a wheelchair and moved across the street to prepare for evacuation. While assisting the woman, Garris received messages and images from neighbors showing blazes erupting and firefighters on the scene.
That PPBME home was what Garris had planned to make his permanent and final residence. Upon returning days later, he found it had been reduced to a heap of melted aluminum and twisted metal, dust and ash–mounds of rubble that were once his most precious possessions: the piggy bank his grandfather lent him, mountain bikes he had just built for himself and his son, a photo album of his childhood, heirlooms passed down from his wife’s grandmother, and so on. Almost everything had vaporized in a matter of hours.
“I’m overwhelmed,” said Garris, who hadn’t yet purchased home or renter’s insurance in the short time since moving to Los Angeles. “I know it’s going to be a rough time, but we’ll figure it out and get through it,”
Garris moved to Pacific Palisades less than two months before the disastrous fire ignited on Jan. 7, which has charred more than 23,000 acres and destroyed 1,280 structures. Now, he joins the thousands of members of his new community who are displaced from their homes, piecing together plans for what direction to take while processing the devastation.
One relic that perished in flames was an honor for his most significant act of bravery during three decades with the Pittsburgh Bureau of Police: the Courage Under Hostile Fire Award, recognizing his response to the Tree of Life synagogue shooting.
On the morning of Oct. 27, 2018, Garris was eating his weekly pancake breakfast with his son when he received an active shooter alert. He jumped into action, breaking several traffic laws on his way to the scene. Inside the synagogue, carnage awaited: blood-covered bodies filled the space. The shooter had positioned himself on a floor with narrow, winding hallways. Garris was in the center of a team of SWAT operators slowly advancing on the assailant when gunfire erupted.
“He obviously staged the room to provide the best ambush situation possible,” Garris said of Robert Gregory Bowers, the shooter, who ultimately surrendered and was arrested. “His aim was to murder as many cops as he could.”
Six years later, after a long career in public service—including roles as a beat cop, river rescue pilot and SWAT operator—Garris decided it was time for a fresh start. He, his wife Debbie, and their 17-year-old son Tristan moved to Pacific Palisades just before Thanksgiving to be closer to their other son, Markus.
In the weeks leading up to the fire, plans were in motion for Tristan to start at James J. McBride Special Education Center and for Garris to finalize the purchase of the PPBME home—a residence that had belonged to his wife’s siblings, where Garris and his wife had already been staying for almost two months.
Now, Garris, his wife, and Tristan are using a credit offered by Airbnb to stay in a residence a few blocks away from James McBride, where Tristan is set to soon resume school. Once their youngest is back in the classroom, it will give them some needed breathing room to coordinate a recovery plan.
To help get them back on their feet, GoFundMe donations are pouring in. At the time of this writing, a campaign launched for Garris exceeded its $35,000 goal, currently at $61,190.
“You don’t need to personally know someone to help them with disaster relief,” Garris said. “A lot of people don’t have a strong network of support. If people have the means, it’s something good to do for your fellow man.”
Donations for Garris can be made here.
