Recovering: One year after the California wildfires
One year after the Eaton Fire, Altadena residents are struggling to recover their losses.
Altadena, Calif. – Newlyweds Ryan and Jasmine LaBelle were on their honeymoon in Fiji, enjoying a romantic seafood dinner and a chef-decorated signature dessert to celebrate their newlyweds, when their cell phones started dying.
Frenzied text messages, neighborhood alerts, sad and devastating voicemails from family members. Something really terrible was happening back home, and the situation seemed to be getting worse by the minute.
It was January 7, 2025.
The fire tore through the dry hillsides of Eaton, at the base of the Pacific Palisades and San Gabriel Mountains. The Santa Ana winds were relentless, pushing the hungry embers back.
Ryan Lovell’s oldest sister was in California watching the flames move closer and closer to their Altadena home. The house where her remarried brother and sister-in-law lived with her and planned to raise their family. The same house that Ryan was brought home to when he was little.
Of course, another generation was to live there. That’s what their mother, Gloria Lovell, always intended. Gloria is a nurse who manages racism in the workplace, is one of the few black people, and manages to buy a house with her ex-husband. She scraped together her nurse’s salary to raise her children here.
Therefore, for the patriarch, intergenerational wealth can only exist in the form of the family. four walls. A home in which her children and their descendants might thrive. Something tangible that she can leave behind as a legacy of love. She believed it might help level the playing field for black families.
The playing field will be leveled. And that’s not quite how Gloria LaBelle once envisioned this future promise.
Achim Airitam, Ryan Lovell’s sister, knew she needed to evacuate the 1912 Craftsman at 2172 Maiden Lane. The lights flickered and I couldn’t find my flashlight. she panicked. What important documents does she need to obtain?Will she be able to escape safely? where is she going go?
“She was unable to collect her mother’s remains, her parents’ wedding album, or her childhood memorabilia. She had little time to escape,” Lovell told me. “It broke her.”
Burnt houses. Burnt memories.
Even though it’s been almost two weeks since wildfires ravaged parts of Southern California, I knew exactly what I was witnessing. Simply put, it was the worst natural disaster I have experienced in my 32 years as a professional journalist.
Blocks of brick chimneys stood unwaveringly and defiantly among the rubble of charred homes. Burnt memories. A burnt dream.
leveled.
Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department deputies and cadaver dogs continued to search for human remains. Missing person. Their families and friends desperately tried to contact them, but they received no response.
The hillsides, once green, or at least brown, appeared black. You can trace the path of the flames simply by examining the once lush vegetation that served as the gateway to the Altadena area.
Towering palm trees had been destroyed from trunk to leaf, but remained upright. Citrus trees such as orange, lemon and grapefruit have abandoned their bounty to the ground. A burnt sweetness and flavor that remains even when there is moisture inside.
When I visited Altadena after the fire, I was struck by the sight of tearful residents rummaging through their property, looking for anything they could salvage. They were not allowed to return home for two weeks because of the toxic burn.
I wanted to comfort them. Please hug me. But I saw their stony faces, their sorrow, their unbelief. What can I do as a stranger? I think at first glance it would have looked like I was there just to do my job, to report on this tragedy.
I was. But I wasn’t. Los Angeles was also my home until a few months before the wildfires.
I prayed for them. I prayed that God’s mercy would guide and comfort them through this most devastating reality. Because those were definitely some of the most awful images I’ll take with me to my grave.
While in the field, meeting these people and experiencing their palpable grief and loss, I constantly fought off waves of vomit, but only because I was wearing a full-face respirator mask to protect my lungs from toxins.
I can’t go back completely. So I can’t imagine the eternal mental and physical suffering of the people who actually lived in Altadena and survived this nightmare.
“Mayberry for African Americans”
The Eaton Canyon fire progressed rapidly, destroying approximately 9,500 buildings and damaging over 1,000 more, burning more than 14,000 acres and killing 19 people.
But it was so much more than that.
It was a community filled with black and brown people who created what one survivor described as “Mayberry for African Americans.”
It was a place of refuge for black people fleeing the Jim Crow South in the early 20th century in search of a better life and respite from systemic racism. This was where home ownership was passed on to the next generation and was often the herald of family wealth. This was the place where families settled, grew, loved, and ultimately lost.
This quaint community, 13 miles north of mainland Los Angeles, has long been a haven for the approximately 44,000 people who live here.
The Great Migration played a central role in California cities such as Los Angeles, Oakland, and San Francisco, where blacks moved primarily from the South to establish a better life free of overt racism.
Altadena became “that place.”
Until it isn’t. Until a fire broke out.
Since the civil rights movement, small business entrepreneurs, artists, and activists have flourished. Although the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Fair Housing Act of 1968 officially abolished “redlining,” the practice of denying blacks and other communities of color access to housing, many people of color continued to move to Altadena during the 1960s and early 1970s.
But like many disasters that disproportionately affect Black and brown people, warnings and evacuation orders were delayed, particularly in western Altadena, resulting in more wildfire deaths than other parts of Southern California.
“I have no intention of returning to Altadena,” former resident Joel Moiseau-Phillips told me. “I’m heartbroken, but there’s no clear, affordable, acceptable path forward. And on top of that, I’m worried about the health of those who stay or come back. And it will never be the same. It was a lovely little oasis of diversity, with a wonderful black community inside, and it’s not coming back.”
establish firm roots
As a final farewell dinner to their Fiji honeymoon, the resort’s chef once again gifted Ryan and Jasmine Lovell with original sweet treats. It’s completely personal. And surprisingly sweet.
One container contained vanilla pastry with a swirl of strawberry icing. The chef carefully scribbled a heartbreaking message from the heart.
That was one word.
sorry.
As the couple prepared to leave Fiji and packed their suitcases, their hearts were heavy as they thought about what they would see and experience when they returned to Southern California, but they vowed to love each other through the hardships and traumas ahead.
They returned home with a typical baggage and a baggage of fear of the unknown. But they also returned home with an amazing blessing. Unbeknownst to her parents, Kayla was also on board when they said goodbye to Fiji.
When Ryan returned to Los Angeles, he visited his childhood home. A house that no longer exists. All that remained was the garage. And a chimney. He began collecting everything he could, including his mother’s medical books, his sister’s food supplies, and a few family photos.
After decades of family gatherings for the holidays in Altadena, the Lovell family has settled into a new reality. Ryan and Jasmine have a newborn. Kaila is her name. She was born on September 16, 2025.
“About two days after we found out we lost our home in the Eaton fire, we found out that my wife Jasmine was pregnant with Kayla, so she has been a blessing to us throughout this whole tragedy,” Ryan Lovell said.
they didn’t know what to do. where are you going? They had a plan. However, it caught fire. FEMA provided little aid in the short term. Therefore, they lived with their families until they had the mental and physical strength to meet their fiancées.
The Lovells eventually purchased a home in Upland, realizing that they could not bring a new child into the world without proper housing. They had to do the right thing for the next generation. Just like Gloria did.
“We moved here at the end of June of 2025,” Lovell said. “Obviously due to the circumstances surrounding the Eaton Fire, we had to really get serious about finding a place to live. So we spent the first half of 2025 just looking for a place to call home. We wanted something to buy, something that would give us solid roots since we were uprooted a little earlier this year. So this was a very important search for us.”
The land in Altadena continues to be owned by the family. But there’s nothing there except the garage. And a sign that says “ALTADENA. Not for sale.” They, like many people, are underinsured and the cost of rebuilding is unimaginable. After all, owning real estate in Los Angeles is ridiculously expensive. Even if it’s just dirt and burnt memories.
Suzette Hackney is a national columnist. Contact her at:@suzyscribe
