Last week, the Eaton Fire destroyed Carrie Myers’ home. So was the North Lake Avenue pet store she bought from her uncle more than 20 years ago.
The simultaneous loss of her home and Steve’s pet left her grieving the polar opposites of the community she had been a part of all her life.
“Here’s the problem: There’s no one there,” said Myers, 56. “Even if the pet store survives, I can’t continue the business because no one lives there. Everyone’s gone.”
The Eaton Fire has burned more than 14,000 acres. An entire neighborhood block of Altadena was wiped out. The number of destroyed buildings continues to grow by the thousands, but the full extent of the damage is still unknown.
The unincorporated town above Pasadena is home to more than 42,000 people. Unlike other parts of Los Angeles County, where it’s not uncommon for residents to commute many miles between home and work, many Altadenas live and work in rustic hillside communities.
The fire left many residents grappling with how to rebuild when their homes, incomes and communities were destroyed.
Janet Lee’s family home was destroyed in a fire. Nearby, the street where their favorite restaurant, which has been serving the community since the 1980s, went up in flames. Fair Oaks Burger, the Lee family’s “American dream” since immigrating from South Korea, has managed to survive as nearby establishments collapse.
It is one of the few remaining eateries in the area.
But Lee calculated that 80 percent of the restaurant’s customers were left homeless in the fire that devastated Altadena. It also claimed the life of a longtime patron.
She wonders who will come back and keep the business going if the restaurant is able to reopen.
“How do you rebuild when your entire community is destroyed?” said Lee, 52, who started working in restaurants as a teenager.
“I really hope people stay.”
Altadena Hardware has been a community staple for more than 80 years and has been owned by the Orlandini family for the past 15 years. The home of my parents and brother, who now co-own the space, survived the fire. But their store disappeared, and the loss also affected their employees.
Rob Orlandini, 38, said the store’s future is clear and it will be rebuilt. When and how remains unclear.
“It’s my livelihood and my brother’s livelihood,” he said. “It’s crazy how you put everything you have into your business and then one morning it disappears.”
Several of the businesses and schools that were destroyed were owned or worked by local residents whose homes were also destroyed. Residents who run landscaping and childcare businesses. Owner of the dive bar “Rancho” for many years. The staff at Pizza of Venice, where loyal customers were regulars.
A fundraising campaign has been launched to seek support. However, a week after the fire, many people who had deep ties to the local community were grounded and unable to return to the scene to assess the aftermath and plan next steps. It got serious.
Angel Bonka, 45, said it was her “dream” to move to Altadena, where she and her husband have been raising their daughter since 2018. In this community located at the base of a mountain, Bonka’s morning routine included a walk to her daughter’s elementary school. She also worked there.
Her home on Raymond Street was an unofficial annex to the historic Pasadena Waldorf School community, she said. Her family’s door was regularly opened and accepted.
Both places are now gone.
“My daughter lost her school campus and she lost her home,” Bonka said, adding that the destruction was “very far and wide, but also very close to home.”
Bonka said she and her husband, who is retired, are applying for insurance on their home and the school is trying to figure out how to stay open without the K-12 campus, where at least a dozen employees have been left homeless. He said that A high school and kindergarten campus not far away survived the blaze thanks to teachers and families.
For now, the family is living in an extended-stay hotel, but they don’t know what will happen next.
Tiffany Hockenhull, 38, made a harrowing escape from her grandparents’ Altadena home in the 1960s. Hours earlier, her brother had taken shelter in his home on Calecita Street as the fire spread. It seemed safer there than where he lived to the east. The fire then jumped west, sending “basketball-sized embers” raining down on her street and destroying nearly every home, including hers.
“I’ve never run like this in my life,” she said in disbelief. “That’s something I would never wish on my worst enemy.”
He lost his home three weeks after his mother died.
Nearby, the elementary school where she taught as a leadership coach also burned. With schools closed, she has no income. It is unclear when or if he will be able to return to Elliott Arts Magnet Academy, which suffered extensive damage in the blaze. For now, she’s taking her time to process things and hopes the community will recover.
“Once this healing process begins and ends, the reconstruction is underway,” she said. “You know, we might even rebuild while we’re healing.”
People stop to view the scene of a burned-out business along North Lake Avenue in Altadena.
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
Bruce Steele loved bees. They had unique personalities, he said, as you might say about a beloved pet. The 40-year beekeeper has been caring for them and talking to them as he worked for decades.
Last week’s fire destroyed 185 hives throughout the Altadena area, including his home hive. This modest ranch house sits in the middle of a grove of oak trees, and he and his wife have lived there for more than 25 years, running a bee pollination and honey-making service.
Steele, 75, is grieving the double loss of his haven and his beekeeping business. He is in the early stages of considering how to rebuild, but he can’t imagine life without bees. His lifelong passion for bees has been his main source of income for many years.
“At this point, I’m determined to keep doing it. There’s no way I can see myself not doing it,” he said.
“That’s a mountain to climb.”
