This article is part of an ongoing series tracking the experiences of families affected by the January 2025 Eaton Fire in Los Angeles. These narratives highlight the challenges of recovery from disaster, long after the headlines fade.
When Donny Kincey evacuated his parents’ home in Altadena, California, flames cascaded down the mountains like liquid fire. The sky turned white with heat, and he could smell his hair singeing. Yet, he instinctively locked the door behind him.
Kincey reflected on this as he stood among the charred remains of his childhood home weeks later. “It’s strange. You don’t really think you’ll lose everything,” he remarked. “There’s still that hope.”
Over 100 days have passed since the Eaton Fire became one of California’s most destructive wildfires, devastating over 9,000 properties. Each affected family faces a unique recovery journey, considering factors like mortgages, insurance, and community support. For some, the idea of dedicating their retirement to rebuilding is overwhelming.
Residents are still grappling with their losses and new identities as survivors. It remains uncertain what Altadena will become, but residents like Kincey continue to dream, despite evolving visions.
An uncertain timeline
Kincey never envisioned living elsewhere. His ancestors relocated from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Altadena after the 1921 race massacre. It was one of the few places in redlined Los Angeles where Black families could purchase homes. Kincey’s family bought several properties in the area in the 1950s.
The house Kincey lived in, once owned by his great-aunt, was passed down to his sister. He rented it from her, transforming the garage into an art studio. Despite his preparations for “fire weather,” the fire’s intensity forced him to evacuate. Before leaving, he grabbed cherished paintings, then returned to his home to sleep, only to be awakened by the advancing fire.
Kincey tried to douse the flames with a hose, but the water stopped. He watched as embers set neighboring houses ablaze. Eventually, his own home succumbed to the fire. Struck by debris, he fell to his knees and prayed, overwhelmed by the loss of everything he valued.
In the aftermath, Kincey spoke at a press conference about preserving Altadena’s historic Black community. Now, he’s more accustomed to discussing the fire. Despite plans to keep their properties, the timeline for returning is unclear. They opted for the Army Corps of Engineers’ free debris removal, but wait for insurance updates adds uncertainty.
A parent of one of his students offered him temporary housing, but Kincey faces uncertainty without ownership of his family’s properties. He considers buying or camping on the land once it’s cleared of debris, as long as he can return to Altadena.
“Altadena is not for sale”
Lara and Robert Lund received their Altadena home keys the same week they learned of Lara’s pregnancy. It’s the only home their children, Llewellyn and Freyja, have known. After the fire, they returned to show their children the loss.
“It was hard for them to grasp it,” Lara said. “What does it mean that our house, our neighborhood burned down?”
The Lunds evacuated in the night, driving 35 miles to Lara’s sister’s house. When they tried to return for Robert’s tools, the fire’s intensity forced them to flee, leaving everything behind.
Their entire block was destroyed. The Lunds quickly cleared their property and plan to rebuild using existing designs for a small dwelling. While waiting for permits, they rent a temporary home, facing high costs due to price gouging despite protections. They pay double their mortgage in rent, while still covering their mortgage and waiting for insurance guidance.
They consider living in a trailer during construction to cut costs, hoping their return will encourage neighbors to rebuild. For now, their property remains empty, marked by a sign declaring, “Altadena is not for sale.”
Every single emotion
Donny Kincey and Lara Lund believed the fire would have to consume the entire town to reach their homes. It did, leaving a path of destruction. Yet, some buildings remain untouched, often due to fire-resistant designs, firefighting efforts, or sheer luck.
James Griffith and Sue Dadd evacuated their home but found refuge in their nearby art studio. Neighbors’ efforts to fight the fire helped save their property. “You feel embarrassed,” Griffith said, acknowledging the tragedy around them.
Their amphitheater, the Folly Bowl, survived. They dedicated time to restoring their home and garden, using the work as therapy. Griffith hasn’t painted since the fire but hopes their space will continue to support the community.
They decided to host summer concerts at the Folly Bowl, inviting the community to share their space and support Altadena artists. “There’s a connection here that I’ve never felt anywhere else,” Griffith said.
This article has been updated to correct the spelling of Freyja and Llewellyn Lund.
Original Story at www.sierraclub.org