When Jens Lindemann and his wife drove away from their home they had lived in for 18 years on January 10, never, in a million years, did they think that would be the last time they ever saw it upright.

“We had no clue that it would be that kind of danger,” the Alberta trumpeter said of the wildfires that lapped up his family home on Palisades Hill, one of thousands of properties lost in the L.A. fires that have left 29 people dead and forced hundreds of thousands to evacuate their homes.

He and his wife spent their next nights in a hotel and at the home of a friend. On Jan. 21, they visited their property one last time, to take a look at the devastation wrought by the fires.

Lindemann took out his trumpet and played a short version of “Smile” by Charlie Chaplin, recorded on camera by his wife Jennifer Snow.

The video of his performance has since gone viral internationally, with an outpouring of support for the brass soloist online and through various platforms.

“There has been no shortage of people reaching out with compassionate words,” Lindemann said, “and anything that they can possibly do to help and that has been a huge, huge plus for both my wife and I in terms of just the healing process.”

The short performance, he said, was an unplanned “benediction.”

“It’s a song about heartache and trying to get through it by smiling one way or the other. If you adopt that you’ll figure out a way on the other side,” he said. “That’s why that felt like the tune to play.”

But Los Angeles no longer feels the same to Lindemann. “If you ask me the obvious question, would I move back there? I can’t answer it honestly and the likelihood is no,” he said.

Even after he had played his song on the rubble of his home, he and his wife “couldn’t stay there long.”

“It was just too much,” he said. “It’s what I call this is going to be a pre-fire and a post-fire life.”

Airborne photos taken of the red roofs of the homes on Palisade Hill where Jens Lindemann and Jennifer Snow had resided for 18 years.Provided by Jens Lindemann

In the weeks since, the couple found a house in Scottsdale, Arizona and have made that home for now.

“It’s a beautiful home,” he said, adding that it is owned by a Calgarian. “It feels like I’m on a retreat, a musical retreat, a spiritual retreat, a healing retreat, it’s very difficult to put into words. But it’s fantastic to spend time alone with your own thoughts and start to rebuild.”

A couple of days ago, Snow flew to Newfoundland to spend time with her family. “She decided that being around family and network of people that also cared for her was the place to be,” he said.

But Lindemann has opted for solitude.

“I’m off all social media,” he said. “I’ve spoken very, very little in person to people. I text a little bit,” he said. “Being in isolation has actually been a really healthy thing for me to do.”

Now, he spends eight to 10 hours a day practicing his music for an upcoming concert in South Carolina. “Music has been my salvation,” he said. “Practicing puts you completely in the moment of what you’re working on and that prevents you from second guessing what you might have done differently in the past, or worrying about what your future will be.”

The concert, on Feb. 15, will be a redemptive event for him. “It’s when I truly want to be able to turn the page and try to find a way to start moving forward.”

In the weeks since, the waves of grief and “sudden, strange forms of PTSD” have lessened, he said.

“When this started, it was literally hour-to-hour of our emotional waves,” he said. “They are still very present and we’re not denying them.”

“We’re still literally going day-by-day,” he said. “It’s been mind numbingly exhausting and soul crushing.”

This isn’t the first time Lindemann, who has taught at the Banff Centre and performed with the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra, has shared his story on a public platform. Since the fires, he has given interviews with multiple media platforms.

But retelling the story of what happened is still a challenge, he said. “The only way I can truly have this interview is by taking the phone and walking around and moving so there’s just enough distraction that I don’t really have to get lost in personal and emotional thoughts about what this all means.”

It’s not just about losing their home, he added. “There were thousands of people in the Palisades, the village that I live in, who were also affected and this was out community.

(It) has affected the psyche of an entire town and that’s the worst part of it. You ache for everybody and they ache for you. And this is not the kind of thing that’s going to go away simply by rebuilding and buying new stuff.”

In the five minutes the couple had to grab their things and evacuate, Lindemann said he grabbed eight of his 35 trumpets and a couple of important documents.

“All have a very personal story to me,” he said.

The jacket he took has an Order of Canada pin on it. “It’s like a glint that catches the side of your eye and you realize, oh, I’m so proud to be Canadian,” he said.

“It’s almost bizarre because you’re not thinking rationally. You’re just grabbing the things that seem immediately obvious.”

What’s the first thing that comes to mind that he wished he could have taken? “Probably photographs. Photographs from way back in the day … I’m talking about from our youth,” he said.

But there’s no benefit to thinking like that, he said. “We’re trying very hard not to play the coulda’, should have, would have game,” he said. “You can’t go back and say, if you had to do this again, what would you grab?”