Los Angeles was dying. Most of the world was changing—changing rapidly, involuntarily, blundering through vast climate change.—Octavia E. Butler
These winds were different.
Hurricane-force gusts, reaching up to 80 miles per hour, rattled Southern California on January 6. The wind felt like a ghost train, keeping many residents awake. As an Angeleno, I’m used to nature’s unpredictability, but these winds and the resulting fires were unprecedented. The Eaton Fire, which destroyed 9,418 structures and covered 14,000 acres in the San Gabriel Valley, is now the costliest natural disaster in U.S. history, surpassing Hurricane Katrina.
Living in Northwest Pasadena, a mix of urban and wild landscapes, I was drawn to its wilderness beauty—giant deodars, cypress trees, and sycamores. My connection to the area deepened over time, thanks in part to my friend Darryl, who introduced me to the community’s hidden gems and rich history. Darryl, a musician and history buff, shared his knowledge through text messages and walking tours.
On January 7, I rescheduled a car appointment due to concerns about fallen trees and power lines. The City of Pasadena urged residents to stay home. That evening, I saw Darryl filming the fire near his home, the flames alarmingly close.
My neighborhood faced evacuation warnings, but official notifications were inconsistent. I relied on the Watch Duty wildfire app for updates. The winds and fires were terrifying, a reminder of the unpredictable power of nature. Meteorologist Edgar McGregor’s warnings on the Altadena Climate and Weather page were prescient. He alerted us to the fire danger, saving lives through his updates.
By January 8, the Eaton Fire had claimed 17 lives in West Altadena, a historically multiethnic neighborhood known for its Black homeownership. The community’s history of overcoming racially restrictive housing covenants was now at risk of being erased.
As the fire threat diminished, I returned to assess the damage. Ash, debris, and scorched landscapes told a grim story. Some spots I cherished did not survive, and the community faced the challenge of rebuilding. Darryl’s property was devastated, his garden and family history reduced to embers. A GoFundMe was set up to support his recovery.
In the aftermath, the community came together, grateful for first responders and determined to rebuild. The future of Altadena remains uncertain, but the resilience and hope instilled by Octavia Butler’s vision of adapting with grace and compassion are guiding principles. As Edgar McGregor urged, it’s essential to show compassion and support for one another in these challenging times.
Original Story at www.sierraclub.org