Couch for a Cause: Palisades Fire Survivor Finds Comfort in New Couch From Poly & Bark

What do you hold onto when your home, workplace, and neighborhood are gone in under an hour? For Marc Lamaze, a martial arts instructor from the Pacific Palisades, answering this question became a grim reality. Marc’s story is one of the most personal Palisades fire victim stories I’ve come across—because it’s not just about what he lost, but how he’s trying to rebuild.

I got to know Marc after he reached out earlier this year. He's a talented martial arts instructor who has served as a cornerstone of his community, teaching generations of children martial arts at the local dojo. Marc had spent years building a tight-knit community, and it was clear how much he cared about everyone in it. So when the deadly Palisades Fire tore through Southern California, it had a devastating impact on his world. 

In his email, Marc revealed that his home and dojo were destroyed. His students, colleagues, and neighbors were all now displaced. And he was left trying to figure out how to piece back together his world. However, even in the face of unimaginable loss, I was struck by his hopefulness and resolution. He spoke of dreams for the dojo to reopen and shared stories about the start of his journey to find a new place to live. 

So when he asked if I knew anyone who could help him get a couch, I knew this was bigger than furniture. This was about helping someone reclaim a piece of normal. And it's something I knew Couch.com—and our friends at Poly & Bark—could do.

A Fire That Changed Everything

The Palisades and Eaton Fires tore through Los Angeles in January this year, forcing nearly 200,000 residents to evacuate as flames engulfed entire neighborhoods from the hills to the coast. Families from Malibu to Santa Monica, and deep into the Palisades were told to leave their homes with little to no warning.

The damage left behind was catastrophic, with officials still trying to grasp the true impact on the community. But one thing is certain: the fires cost people their homes, schools, and livelihoods. And for survivors like Marc, the road back to normalcy is long and winding. For people like Marc, rebuilding after a fire isn’t just about replacing furniture or four walls. It’s about redefining what home feels like.

From Fire to Nowhere in 45 Minutes

Marc remembers the exact moment it started.

“I went outside to take the trash out,” he told me, “and I saw smoke on the horizon. That’s not a cloud, I thought.”

From his street, he could see flames creeping along the ridgeline near Skull Rock in the Santa Monica Mountains. Within minutes, he was alerting his neighbors and packing his go bag: a backpack, a computer bag, and whatever documents he could gather. “I’d practiced this,” he said. “I kept it by my desk in case something like this ever happened.”

Even with preparation, the evacuation happened faster than expected. Marc was in the shower – the quiet abruptly shattered by the sound of the evacuation alarm, followed by the knocking of his landlord on the bathroom window and his roommate at the front door. 

“We gotta go.”

Marc threw on clothes and hurried into a pickup truck. “My landlord and his roommate brought nothing. Just a phone and a wallet. They thought we’d be back in a few hours.”

They never went back.

What It’s Like to Lose Everything

The fire cost Marc more than four walls and a roof. The priceless physical tokens of his life lay in ashes – books he collected, photos, a black belt certificate earned after decades of training, letters from his parents, uniforms, and trophies from the dojo, all gone. 

“You think you still have something,” he told me. “You think, oh, I’ll bring that next time—or show it to someone. Then you realize, wait. I don’t have that anymore. It’s gone.”

There’s something especially harsh about losing everything to fire. It leaves a gaping space where your life used to be and nothing to remember it by. And yet, none of this pain has prevented Marc from faithfully showing up for his community and forging new beginnings.

A Dojo Displaced, a Community Scattered

What followed the fires were months of limbo. Marc spent nights in a Hilton near the airport, in a rented camper van in Westchester, in crowded Airbnb rentals. He counted seven different places over 70 days.

“I was basically homeless,” he said. “I picked parking lots that had a Ralphs, a CVS, a bank, a place to grab clean clothes. It wasn’t glamorous.”

Through all of it, he stayed firmly connected to his martial arts community. 

After losing the dojo space, the kids who used to come after school now had nowhere familiar to go. Knowing how much unity and friendship meant at a time like this, Marc and fellow instructor Gerry Blank decided to start from scratch. 

They sourced uniforms from KI International, a longtime partner in Inglewood. They replaced belts. They called in favors.

One of those calls led to Master Ye, a fellow martial artist in Santa Monica who gave them three nights a week to use his studio. “He put our name on the door,” Marc said. “He didn’t have to—but he did.”

The result? A makeshift dojo. But more importantly, a place where displaced kids could see each other again. “Some of these kids hadn’t seen their friends since the fire,” Marc told me. “They come in, and it’s like a little class reunion.”

A Couch Is More Than a Couch

As Marc and his small tribe slowly began to rebuild, a family from the dojo offered him some relief: A temporary home. “Their son trained with us since he was six,” he said. “They offered us the place they were moving out of—just cover utilities. That’s it.”

It was a home. It was safe and quiet. But it was empty.

“For weeks we sat on bar stools. I had four suitcases, some storage containers, and no real furniture. We got a bed. We got a TV. But we didn’t have a couch.”

That's when he emailed me. It was a simple, honest request. A couch to make him feel at home again. 

I reached out to our friends at Poly & Bark, one of our favorite brands. They’ve got a warehouse and outlet in Moorpark, and I figured there must be a floor model or a return. Something we can make work.

They didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” they said. “Tell us where to send it.”

No red tape. No press release. Just: “Yes.”  

What arrived wasn’t just any piece of furniture—it was a Poly & Bark couch that brought comfort, warmth, and a touch of normal back into Marc’s life.

With Poly & Bark’s help, we delivered a Napa 72" Apartment Sofa—one of their best sellers. It’s compact but deep enough to stretch out on. Durable, clean, and comfortable. If this were a traditional Napa Sofa review, we’d talk about its clean lines, full-grain leather, and plush feather-down cushions. But for Marc, it was something more.

A Couch For a Cause

In the middle of loss, a sofa might seem small. But for someone who spent weeks sleeping in a van, sitting on barstools, a couch is a big help in creating a sense of normalcy and stability in a temporary space.

The Poly & Bark Napa Sofa, upholstered in semi-aniline Italian-tanned full-grain leather, features feather-down cushions, a solid kiln-dried hardwood frame, and luxurious seat support. It’s refined with a dash of rustic charm, designed to patina beautifully with age, and built for comfort and character. 

It’s the kind of piece you build a home around, and it became an anchor for Marc’s new beginning. This kind of real-world Poly and Bark review is worth more than stars or social media posts.

A Note About Poly & Bark

People ask, is Poly & Bark legit? Marc’s story says more than any review ever could. When we reached out, They stepped up without a second thought—no strings attached, no need for recognition. They just saw someone in need and said yes.

That kind of response isn’t common, and it says a lot about who they are. Poly & Bark believes what we believe at Couch.com—that a couch is more than just a place to sit. It’s a cornerstone of home, especially when the rest of life feels unpredictable.

They design their furniture to fit real lives: the Sunday brunches, movie nights, the spontaneous sleepovers on the sofa. Their pieces are beautiful, built to last, thoughtfully made, and accessible to people who want great design without showroom markups.

In a moment like this, it wasn’t about branding or PR. This moment turned into more than a Poly and Bark review—it became a reflection of what it means to show up for people when it matters. It was really about showing up. And they did. This wasn’t a campaign or a stunt. It was a Poly & Bark furniture donation made quietly and generously—because someone needed a place to land.

What Comes Next

Marc’s story doesn’t have a Hollywood ending just yet. He’s still in temporary housing. The dojo still needs a permanent space. The whole community is still recovering.

But for now, he’s got a couch. A place to sit. To rest. To be with people he cares about. And sometimes, that’s enough to remind you that life is still moving forward.