Wildfires, Climate Change, and the Architecture of Resilience

Los Angeles fire map, January 12, 2025 (Google Maps)

As I write this, firefighters are making determined progress toward containing the devastating wildfires that have ravaged large swaths across the Greater Los Angeles Area. The Palisades Fire is 11% contained, while the Eaton Fire is 15% contained. However, at least 153,000 residents are still under evacuation orders, and the situation remains precarious. Fires have raced through the landscape, reducing homes, businesses, and irreplaceable landmarks to ashes. Communities are devastated and in need of urgent help. My heart aches for those who have lost their homes and for the families of those mourning loved ones. 

My wife and I spent two formative years in Los Angeles during the mid-1980s, so the areas touched by the fires are familiar to us. The wildfires are decimating or threatening numerous communities throughout the metro region, including Pacific Palisades, Altadena, Pasadena, Brentwood, Encino, Hollywood Hills, Sylmar, Runyon Canyon, Mandeville Canyon, Bel-Air, and Westwood. We lived in an apartment building on S. Barrington Avenue in Brentwood, one of the areas now endangered by the expanding Palisades Fire. The conflagration is spreading eastward, causing extensive damage and leading to evacuation orders for Brentwood residents and the temporary cancellation of on-campus classes at nearby UCLA. The Palisades Fire alone has consumed over 23,000 acres, roughly equivalent to 36 square miles or about 17,400 football fields. 

Much of LA’s rich architectural heritage is at risk, including the historic Craftsman homes of Pasadena and mid-century Modern masterpieces in the Hollywood Hills. The wildfires have claimed the Andrew McNally House, the Zane Grey Estate, and the Will Rogers Estate. These losses represent not just buildings but pieces of the City of Angels’ historical fabric. Noteworthy structures under immediate threat include the Getty Center, the Hollywood Bowl, and the Eames House (among other important Case Study House Program examples). Culturally significant sites destroyed by the fires include the Bunny Museum in Altadena and the Reel Inn in Malibu, beloved by locals and visitors alike. These structures were iconic examples of Los Angeles' cultural legacy, and their destruction is a significant blow. 

Andrew McNally House, former home of the co-founder and president of the Rand McNally publishing company, listed on the National Register of Historic Places (photo by Einbierbitte, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Relief efforts are currently underway to help those whose lives have been turned upside down by the fires. Organizations like FEMA and the Red Cross are providing immediate aid, while companies such as Disney and Paramount are donating large sums to support response and rebuilding efforts. The federal government has also declared a major disaster, allowing for increased federal help and resources to aid in recovery.

Rebuilding after such widespread destruction will present enormous challenges, both practical and political. The sheer scale of the damage, with over 19,000 structures destroyed (so far), requires a coordinated effort from local, state, and federal authorities. Political obstacles include navigating bureaucratic red tape, securing funding, and ensuring equitable distribution of resources. There will be a need to reform and streamline the permitting processes to expedite rebuilding. Adding to the complexity, many homeowners in the affected areas recently lost their insurance coverage. State Farm, one of the largest insurers in California, canceled hundreds of homeowners' policies last summer in Pacific Palisades and other high-risk areas. This move left many residents scrambling for coverage through the California FAIR Plan, the state's insurer of last resort. The lack of adequate insurance coverage exacerbates the financial strain on homeowners, making the rebuilding process even more challenging.

All told, the scope of rebuilding in the aftermath of the Los Angeles fires will be vast. The long-term recovery process could span five years or more. During this time, affected residents will need ongoing support to cope with the challenges of displacement and rebuilding. Temporary housing, financial assistance, and mental health services will be crucial in helping them navigate this difficult period.

The Palisades Fire viewed from the roof of a high rise building in downtown Los Angeles (photo by Toastt21, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

We here in Oregon are not unfamiliar with the devastating impact of wildfires, which is why we watch what is tragically occurring in Los Angeles with recognition and empathy. Our wildfires likewise threatened homes (or destroyed them outright) and rendered familiar landscapes unrecognizable. Their increased frequency and severity in recent years is a wake-up call to anyone who is paying attention. Rising average temperatures, prolonged droughts, and changing weather patterns have created conditions that are more conducive to their occurrence. Case in point: The current water year is the driest ever on record for southern California. Vegetation is tinder dry. The intensity of the wildfires we are witnessing now in California should not come as a surprise.

Communities affected by the wildfires must consider the broader context of climate change and its impact as they rebuild. This means designing buildings and communities that are not only resilient to wildfires but also adaptable in other ways to the changing climate. Though I spent my working life as an architect, I do not consider myself an expert when it comes to resilient design. I do believe using fire-resistant materials, designing buildings with defensible space, and integrating advanced fire suppression systems are crucial. Architects and urban planners can prioritize these strategies to protect structures and their occupants from future wildfires. The wildfires also highlight the importance of urban planning in fire-prone areas. Zoning regulations should consider the natural landscape and the potential for wildfires. Creating buffer zones, maintaining vegetation, and ensuring adequate access for firefighting equipment are crucial steps in mitigating the impact of wildfires on urban areas.

New technologies present opportunities for enhancing the resilience of buildings. Smart home systems can monitor air quality and detect fires early, while drones and satellite imagery can provide real-time data to assist in firefighting efforts. Embracing these technologies can help us design safer and more resilient structures. Additionally, architecture can incorporate both active and passive measures to adjust to severe weather conditions. For example, passive measures, such as using higher insulation values and thermally resistant glazing, can help buildings withstand extreme temperatures. Active measures, such as automated shading systems, can adjust to changing weather conditions to protect buildings and their occupants. Community involvement in the rebuilding process can also help ensure new structures meet the needs of residents while being better prepared for future wildfires. This can include public meetings for input, collaborative design workshops, and volunteer programs to support rebuilding efforts. Such involvement fosters a sense of ownership and resilience within the community, helping it to recover, adapt, and succeed in the face of adversity. 

A Chase Bank branch on Sunset Boulevard burning on January 8 (photo by CAL FIRE_Official, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

I fear we've already passed the tipping point beyond which runaway warming and its inevitable impacts will be a fact of life. This prompts some critical questions: Besides designing for resilience, what other actions can we take to mitigate the consequences of climate change? How will we afford the costs of massive recovery efforts time and time again? The financial burden of rebuilding after each disaster is immense, and as these events become more common, the strain on resources will only grow. Addressing this challenge will require innovative funding solutions, increased investment in resilient infrastructure and, most importantly, a collective acknowledgment of the climate crisis and its implications. The scale of the necessary mitigation efforts will otherwise cripple the world’s economies.

Ultimately, the magnitude of the response will instigate a paradigm shift on a global scale. Acknowledging the role of climate change in the increased risk of wildfires is imperative. How future generations live on this planet will necessarily be different if they are to survive, let alone thrive. The wildfires in Los Angeles are a powerful reminder of the need for resilient architectural design and thoughtful urban planning. My thoughts are with everyone affected by these fires, and I hope we can all find ways to support those who are enduring this difficult time.

Eugene/Architecture/Alphabet: U

U.S. Post Office, Eugene (photo by Tamanoeconomico, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

This is the next in my Eugene/Architecture/Alphabet series of blog posts, the focus of each being a landmark building here in Eugene. Many of these will be familiar to most who live here but there are likely to be a few buildings that are less so. My selection criteria for each will be threefold:

1. The building must be of architectural interest, local importance, or historically significant.
2. The building must be extant so you or I can visit it in person.
3. Each building’s name will begin with a particular letter of the alphabet, and I must select one (and only one) for each of the twenty-six letters. This is easier said than done for some letters, whereas for other characters there is a surfeit of worthy candidates (so I’ll be discriminating and explain my choice in those instances).

This entry’s selection begins with the letter U, for which my choice is Eugene’s centrally located branch of the U.S. Post Office. As is the case now with several of my entries in the Eugene/Architecture/Alphabet series, I gleaned much of the information that follows from the building’s listing on the National Register of Historic Places.

U.S. Post Office

I was hardly familiar with Eugene prior to my studies in architecture at the University of Oregon. Upon arriving in September of 1980, I distinctly remember much of Eugene’s architecture underwhelming me, the university campus and a few pre-urban renewal examples downtown notwithstanding. Of the latter, the U.S. Post Office (built 1938-1939) stood out. An example of the classically inspired Federal Art Deco idiom (rare for Oregon and the only one of its kind in Lane County), the building is unique thanks to its symmetry, scale, polychrome terra cotta, and WPA murals. I immediately found the building appealing, and it continues to be among my favorite works of architecture here in my adopted hometown.

I like the fact that, architecturally speaking, the most prominent post office in Eugene is found on the north edge of downtown along Willamette Street. As a true community landmark, the building is sited fittingly on the city’s principal commercial and cultural axis. 

The architect Gilbert Stanley Underwood designed Eugene’s U.S. Post Office. Underwood is historically important for being responsible for the design of several of the great lodges of the National Parks and National Forests (including Timberline Lodge), stations for the Union Pacific Railroad, as well as more than 20 post offices, courthouses, and other major buildings commissioned under the auspices of the Federal Architects Project. His mastery of both the Rustic Style for the great lodges and the Art Deco style for his Union Pacific Railway stations and federal buildings speaks volumes about his design talent. 

Detail view of the polychromatic terracotta cladding on the Willamette Street façade (photo by Tamanoeconomico - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=79242947) 

Art Deco architecture, especially in the context of the New Deal, is fascinating for its unique blend of modernism and classicism, embodying the fundamental optimism of the style. Like many other Art Deco projects, Eugene’s U.S. Post Office possesses flattened ornamentation and clean lines denoting modernity, combined with vaguely Egyptian and Cubist allusions. The building showcases blue and cream-colored terracotta, with black and buff-colored accents. Pilasters separate the multicolored window bays. Overall, the Willamette Street-facing main façade clearly signals its importance as a public institution by means of the scale and Classically symmetrical composition of its architectural features. 

Lobby (photo by Tamanoeconomico - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=79242948) 

Inside, the lobby is somewhat cramped with its public service counter, mailboxes, and intrusive vestibule, especially during busy times when many customers must queue up; the tightness is relieved somewhat by its tall ceiling. The oddly random and spare placement of marble wall panels is puzzling, and the overabundance of necessary signage is visually distracting. 

Serving to relieve the lobby’s banality are the two murals painted by Portland artist Carl Morris, one at each end of the space. The murals--titled Agriculture and Lumbering—are a legacy of the United States Department of the Treasury’sprogram to bring outstanding works of art within reach of as many American citizens as possible. The program set aside 1% of the cost of construction of new post office buildings expressly for this purpose. Morris’ murals for the Eugene Post Office are representative of these paintings in that they are “American scenes” depicting ordinary citizens at work. 

Agriculture (1943), mural by Carl Morris, north end of the lobby (photo: public domain) 

Lumbering (1943), mural by Carl Morris, south end of the lobby (photo: public domain) 

Beyond their visual appeal, I’ve always appreciated the cultural significance of New Deal and WPA buildings. They exist as symbols of resilience, reflecting the federal government’s efforts to provide jobs and stimulate the economy during the depths of the Great Depression. They were intended to be monumental and enduring, symbolic of the stability and permanence of important public institutions during an uncertain time. They stand today as exemplars of a distinct and widely admired style of architecture, and as a testament to the broad social and cultural impacts of the sweeping relief, recovery, and reform programs enacted by the administration of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. 

I’m hopeful Eugene’s one and only example of its architectural type will continue to serve for many years as the city’s downtown branch of the U.S. Post Office. I can’t imagine it assuming another, more suitable role befitting its architecture, one commensurate with its location, prominence, and place within Eugene’s architectural heritage.

Project 2025

SketchUp model of our house. I'll use the model to help explain the scope of our planned renovation to a prospective contractor. 

No, not that Project 2025. Instead, I’m referring to my own Project 2025, which is to buckle down in the new year and finally attend to sorely needed home improvements. Because I am now retired, I’ve run out of excuses. The list of maintenance needs I’ve deferred for far too many years is embarrassingly long. 

My wife Lynne and I purchased our house in 1989. Like many young couples at the time, we expected the little 3-bed, 1-bath rambler to be our “starter” home, eventually trading up as our needs grew. Fast-forward 35 years and here we still are. We chose not to have children, so that impetus to pursue a bigger residence never arose. Our lifestyle has always been very modest. We seldom have guests over, obviating any requirement for generous entertainment space. We don’t have so much stuff that we’re bursting at the seams. At some point it became clear to us it would be our “forever” home. It remains perfectly adequate to meet our foreseeable needs. 

Most would charitably describe our house as bland and characterless, one of the countless nondescript post-war tract homes built during the early 1950s on what was then the south edge of a rapidly growing Eugene. While undeniably plain and simple, it does have its charms, specifically the elements of its original interior décor that remain. These include the pink and black tile in our bathroom, the metal-trimmed Formica countertops, custom built-in shelving, its brick fireplace, and vintage light fixtures. Lynne wishes to see any renovation we undertake not erase these mid-century features or at least replicate them. 

So, it’s a light touch that we’ll apply to our improvements, architecturally speaking. No grand makeover is in the cards. That said, there are many significant fixes desperately requiring our attention, first and foremost being repairs to our one and only bathroom. The bathtub and shower plumbing are shot, which will necessitate tearing open the wet wall and entirely replacing the controls and piping. On other fronts, the gutters and downspouts need replacing, as does our kitchen flooring. I fear we have some dry rot and carpenter ant damage to address at the roof eaves. And the metal roof over our back deck requires repair and the deck itself needs refinishing. For safety and reliability reasons, we are also considering modernizing and increasing the capacity of our obsolete electrical system. 

Future-proofing our home is another goal. We intend to age in place, so including provisions now to make this possible is sensible. It helps that our house only occupies one level. We can add grab bars during our bathroom renovation, replace our traditional faucets with lever-style types, and plan for the eventual installation of ramps to complement the stairs at our front and back entrances. 

Our front and back yards are also in desperate need of some TLC. What exactly we will do is an open question. One thing for certain is figuring out why so many of our old shrubs and bushes are dying recently. I suspect poor drainage may be one issue. Poor soil quality or diseases may be others. 

Will we undertake the work ourselves? Mostly, no. I’m no handyman, nor am I a contractor. I will be happy to hire professionals to do the job right. Lynne is not looking forward to the disruption the project will cause. My plan is to work with our contractor(s) so that we can limit the time we need to be away, taking advantage of that opportunity to go on a special trip somewhere. 

Perspective plan view of our house.

It might seem unusual to some, given my professional background, that I am not interested in a more architecturally ambitious renovation. Why shouldn’t I view refreshing our home as an opportunity to stretch my design muscles? After all, many architects have done so themselves, sometimes with enviably impressive results. Cost is not the issue, nor is any lack of confidence in my abilities. The reason is two-fold: 1) Lynne likes our house exactly as it is, and indeed it has provided us with all we have asked of it; and 2) I want to avoid paralysis by over analysis. Designing a renovation for our own home would undoubtedly lead to overthinking and perfectionism. It’s already bad enough that I’ve kicked the can down the road this far. 

By tackling our very personal Project 2025, we’re going to ensure that our humble abode remains comfortable and functional for years to come. The end result will be worth it, even if it won’t be an architectural marvel. The improvements will extend our home’s useful life while enhancing ours. I simply have to remind myself of this and set aside the associated anticipation and trepidation. My New Year’s resolution is to stop procrastinating and just do it. 

Here's to a productive 2025. I wish all of you a Happy New Year ahead!

Yes In My Backyard

College Hill Cottages by Cultivate, Inc. (rendering from the firm's website).

Oregon's missing middle housing mandate and its implementation in Eugene are pivotal steps toward addressing our housing crisis. By increasing affordable options and fostering inclusivity, we can build a community that reflects our values while dispelling myths about how these changes will impact our neighborhoods.

I’m an advocate for the introduction of middle housing types throughout Eugene. For a variety of reasons, I view these types—ADUs, duplexes, triplexes, fourplexes, townhouses, cottage clusters, and live-work developments—to be viable models for rethinking the way we design, locate, regulate, and develop homes. And yes, this means introducing them within environs historically zoned for single-family homes. If you must, call me a YIMBY. I embrace that label, but not because I favor unchecked development. Instead, I support thoughtful, well-integrated solutions that address our housing crisis while respecting Eugene’s unique neighborhoods. 

Increasing the supply and diversity of housing, providing types that meet the needs of more residents, is necessary if Eugene is to remain an economically vibrant and desirable place to live and work. The scarcity of housing has driven rents and home prices to untenable heights, making it clear that our existing zoning system isn’t serving everyone. Expanding housing choices is a logical and necessary step toward affordability. To its credit, the Oregon Legislature recognized this when it passed House Bill 2001 in 2019—notably, with bipartisan support. The bill required updates of local rules that have limited the types of housing that can be built within areas zoned for single-family dwellings. 

Diversifying housing options means more people can live closer to work, school, and services, fostering communities where people from varied backgrounds can thrive together. Welcoming middle housing reflects the values of inclusion and fairness that should guide Eugene’s growth. 

Critics fear middle housing will result in gentrification, but this oversimplifies the issue. In high-value areas, adding supply can stabilize prices and expand access. Policies like inclusionary zoning and tenant protections can further minimize displacement while maximizing affordability. 

Concerns about changing the character of our neighborhoods are also common but often unfounded. The City of Eugene has implemented design standards (EC 9.5550) to help ensure that new developments integrate with existing surroundings. And many middle housing types, such as duplexes or bungalow courts, are already part of Eugene’s architectural heritage. In this regard, missing middle types are not a departure from our past but a continuation of it. 

Several recent projects are examples that revitalize that tradition while adapting to modern needs. These include the Lucia Townhouses and the Skyview Houses in the Friendly neighborhood (both designed by Studio.E Architecture), the College Hill Cottages (designed by Cultivate), and the 4 Oaks Grange Cottage Cluster (by Aligned Architecture). Granted, the Lucia Townhouses occupy property originally zoned as C-1 Neighborhood Commercial rather than R-1, but as part of the Friendly Garden Food Court development, the project demonstrates its compatibility with the surrounding single-family residences. These examples, and more on the boards, showcase how increased density can coexist with livability and aesthetic appeal. 

Lucia Townhouses, by Studio.E Architecture (photo from the firm's website).

4 Oaks Grange Cottage Cluster, by Aligned Architecture (photo from the firm's website).

Does the insertion of denser housing types within established residential areas exacerbate parking concerns? Will this be even more of an issue considering the elimination of minimum off-street parking requirements? Perhaps. That said, it is increasingly probable that many residents in middle housing developments will be those who have chosen to not own cars, particularly in areas near transit corridors where public transportation, biking, and walking are more accessible options. Evidence from other cities shows that middle housing doesn’t always lead to proportional increases in car ownership. Portland and Minneapolis are cases in point, having demonstrated how eliminating parking mandates can encourage alternative transportation options without significant harm to neighborhood parking availability. 

Parking management strategies such as residential permit programs can prioritize long-term residents' access to curbside spaces, while time-limited or priced parking can discourage non-residents from monopolizing neighborhood parking. Developers, though no longer required to provide off-street parking in designated areas and for certain types of development, often include some parking to meet market demand. This flexibility allows for thoughtful design tailored to the specific needs of new developments. 

Higher-density housing within the urban growth boundary helps reduce car dependency, cuts greenhouse gas emissions, and preserves the natural landscapes and agricultural lands around us. These housing forms make more efficient use of land and infrastructure, supporting our broader efforts to combat climate change. Smaller footprints and the potential for energy-efficient designs make middle housing a practical and sustainable choice for Eugene’s future. 

As I wrote back in 2018, leaving our comfort zone may be unsettling, but we’ll need to if we and our community are to adapt and thrive. Resistance to the introduction of new and creative housing solutions responsive to our changing demographics and marketplace is symptomatic of our fear of change, but we ignore it at our own peril. If Eugene is unsuccessful, more progressive cities will profit from our intransigence when it comes to diversifying our housing stock. Cities exist within a competitive landscape, and it’s a zero-sum game: their gain is our loss when it comes to competing for talent, investment, and businesses. 

Ultimately, we’re talking about more than housing—everyone should support building a stronger, more resilient community as Eugene continues to grow. More residents nearby mean more customers for local businesses and services, better support for public transportation, and richer social networks that come from closer connections. By welcoming new neighbors, we’re not only addressing a housing crisis; we’re helping our city be the best it can be. This is what being a YIMBY means. 

Change can be challenging, and the road to implementing middle housing in Eugene has been long and contentious.(1) But this journey reflects our resilience and commitment to doing what’s right. Missing middle housing isn’t something to fear; it’s a chance to grow responsibly and inclusively. Let’s embrace this opportunity to make Eugene a place where everyone—no matter their income or background—can find not just a house, but a home. 

(1)    Oregon’s House Bill 2001 mandated middle housing in single-family zones across large cities, including Eugene. The Eugene City Council first adopted the Middle Housing Code Amendments in May 2022. Although the ordinance initially went into effect in July 2022, it faced legal challenges that resulted in a remand by the Oregon Court of Appeals in October 2023. The court’s decision highlighted technical issues related to compliance with public facilities and services standards, prompting the city to adopt a revised ordinance in March 2024. 

Despite further challenges and another remand by the Land Use Board of Appeals (LUBA) in July 2024, the City Council finally approved Ordinance 20716 on November 25. It incorporates lessons from the previous legal decisions while ensuring compliance with state requirements. The ordinance will become effective on January 2, 2025. To say the legal and procedural journey to this point has been complex is an understatement.

Architecture is Awesome: #38 Seeing Stonework Sparkle Like New

Inside the nave of the reconstructed Notre-Dame de Paris (photo by Quirinale.it, Attribution, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=156416099)

This is another in my series of posts inspired by 1000 Awesome Things, the Webby Award-winning blog written by Neil Pasricha. The series is my meditation on the awesome reasons why I was and continue to be attracted to the art of architecture. 

There’s something magical about seeing a place you thought you knew suddenly transformed. It’s like meeting an old friend who shows up glowing with joy—still the same, but somehow more alive.  

That was my reaction upon seeing photos of the newly restored Notre-Dame de Paris. After five years of painstaking work following the devastating 2019 fire, the iconic cathedral has reopened, brighter and cleaner than it’s been in centuries or perhaps than it’s ever been. What a difference.  

I visited Notre-Dame in 1979, stepping inside on a gray, blustery All Saints’ Day. The interior was dim, shadowy, and cloaked in centuries of mystery. Candlelight flickered on soot-darkened walls. It was hauntingly beautiful, in the way only something so old can be.  

Now? Notre-Dame absolutely sparkles in photographs. Workers meticulously cleaned its stonework, revealing the original limestone as it once was. The stained glass certainly appears brighter and more vivid than I remember. It’s as if someone pushed the “restore to factory settings” button, removing layers of lampblack to unveil the cathedral as its original builders envisioned it. The result is a reminder that restoration isn’t about erasing history but rather about revealing it.  

Some people aren’t so thrilled. They say Notre-Dame has lost its character, that the dim, dusty gloom was part of its soul. I get it. That aged patina was steeped in history, a connection to centuries of pilgrimage and prayers. On the other hand, Gothic cathedrals were meant to dazzle. Their architecture was about light, color, and lifting medieval spirits skyward.  

How I remember the nave appearing, before the fire (photo by Willtron, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=351596)

If I am fortunate enough to visit Paris again, I expect entering the restored Notre-Dame will feel dreamlike. Relying solely on the pictures that have been circulated widely, the soaring vaults seem even taller now. The bright LED lighting—the target of much of the criticism from detractors—makes the stone appear luminous. The intricate carvings pop against the gleaming masonry.  

The sleek, contemporary design of the new altar by Guillaume Bardet has also raised some eyebrows. But to me, it’s a sign that Notre-Dame isn’t just a relic of the past. It is very much alive, growing, evolving—a bridge between what was and what can be.  

Inside Notre-Dame, the weight of time is palpable—and for those who believe, so is the hope of renewal. The space has seen war, revolution, and fire, yet the cathedral still stands, a testament to all those who invested immense efforts in maintaining or repairing it over the centuries. Notre-Dame is a magnificent monument to the human spirit, one everyone agrees was worthy of the most reverent restoration possible.  

Seeing something ancient shine like new? That’s AWESOME. 

Next Architecture is Awesome: #39 The Comfort of a Corner