ALTADENA, California — Ranjit Singh feels fortunate for his situation.

The recent wildfire ravaged homes directly across from his liquor and convenience shop, burning a nearby plant material store and destroying the homes of many customers, leaving the community of Altadena—population around 44,000, just north of Los Angeles—shaken.

Yet, his 40-year-old business survives, although it bears the marks of smoke damage. His house in La Cañada, a few miles away, also remains intact. Thanks to his son and a garden hose, Aveson Global Leadership Academy—a cherished spot for students who affectionately call him “Papa” during their daily visits for snacks—still stands.

However, peaceful nights elude Singh. He feels heartbroken for his customers and the community, which is now filled with uncertainty.

“These are my neighbors,” he expressed. “I’m fine, but what about my neighbors? I want them back.”

The Eaton Fire has demolished thousands of structures throughout Altadena. Once vibrant streets filled with homes, schools, shops, restaurants, and historic sites now resemble a battlefront, littered with ash, fallen trees, and downed power lines.

As Singh and others like him navigate through the aftermath, they find themselves essential to the community’s recovery effort, a journey many fear may never conclude.

Their emotions are complex. Those whose homes were spared feel a mix of gratitude and sorrow for their neighbors who lost everything. They mourn the disruption of their social circles, routines, and the sense of belonging they once enjoyed in their community.

“One person has a house, so they’ll stay, but others may not return,” explained Vickie Mays, a psychology professor at UCLA. “This creates a lot of anxiety about the future of the neighborhood.”

Many residents remain displaced and might be for an extended period. Although some homes are still standing, they may have extensive smoke damage. Areas affected are coated in dangerous ash, and the air quality is poor. In addition, local water sources might still be unsafe for drinking or bathing, with some neighborhoods lacking power and essential utilities.

“We feel like we won Satan’s lottery. It’s such a strange mix of feelings. We are very thankful but also very sad,” Lara Jo Regan shared, an Altadena resident who considers herself “lucky” for her house’s survival yet finds herself unable to return home. “Yes, our house is standing, but our sense of home and community is gone.”

Most neighborhoods impacted by the fire are still off-limits to residents. Even veteran firefighters remark that the devastation they’ve witnessed is beyond anything they’ve ever encountered.

“I honestly don’t know what the next steps are,” said Joshua Sprague, a battalion chief with Victorville Fire Department called to assist in battling the wildfire in Altadena. “I’ve driven through parts of the area, and the sheer destruction is overwhelming. I can’t even begin to fathom where recovery starts.”

‘A cherished community’: Beautiful Altadena devastated by flames

Melinda Bagnerise has deep affection for Altadena.

Originally from Indiana, she’s resided near this unincorporated, working-class area for decades, feeling it embodies a near-perfect community.

“I have lived in other places, but returning to my roots always feels good,” noted Bagnerise. “Being here just feels like home.”

For many years, Altadena served as a safe haven for Black families migrating from the Southern United States. Following the end of discriminatory housing practices in the 1960s, the community grew into one of the few areas in Southern California that embraced a diverse population living harmoniously.

Residents take pride in their rich diversity and natural beauty. Nestled against the San Gabriel Mountains, the community is home to small business owners, artists, and activists. Spacious homes with lush gardens and easy access to hiking trails offer a serene living environment while being just a 35-minute drive from downtown Los Angeles under normal traffic conditions.

Bagnerise described her neighborhood as unique and special, saying it is “filled with love.”

“Diverse backgrounds and cultures came together here, and there were never any problems,” she remarked.

Historically, the mountains have offered more than just scenic beauty. Sean Katt, an engineer at the Pasadena Fire Department, acknowledged that these mountains provide a natural buffer against the Santa Ana winds—strong inland gusts affecting much of California’s coast—meaning it takes a “distinct wind pattern” for fires to threaten Altadena and Pasadena.

“But when it happens, it can be catastrophic,” Katt warned.

The first emergency call to the Pasadena Fire Department came around 6:40 p.m. from a residence on Canyon Close Road, which borders the west side of Eaton Canyon and the Altadena area. At the same time, Los Angeles County stations received calls about the blaze.

There was a fire, and with strong winds, it spread rapidly.

Katt and his team were dispatched. The flames were upon them within minutes of their arrival.

The ensuing hours felt like a surreal nightmare. Katt and fellow firefighters kept repositioning to combat the blazing inferno as howling winds fueled its spread. While some homes were saved, many were lost.

“We would describe it as a war zone,” he recounted. “Smoke and orange flames everywhere—until flames appeared.”

Eventually, Katt switched his focus to saving lives over property. By morning, he’d rescued four individuals, including two elderly women with disabilities trapped in a home on Mariposa Street.

Days later, as Katt drove his fire truck through the devastated streets, he struggled to identify the remains of a previously occupied house without looking for the curb numbers—a common issue in the neighborhoods most impacted by the fire.

“It was like hitting reset on Altadena,” remarked Jeff Grogan, a captain with the Pasadena Fire Department who also responded to the fire. “Schools, doctors, grocery stores—everything was gone.”

Bagnerise experienced fortunate circumstances. On Wednesday, she returned to her home for the first time since evacuating, relieved to find it still standing. Initially overwhelmed with joy, her relief turned to horror when she discovered large pieces of smoldering debris in her yard.

“It made me realize how dangerously close my home was to the fire,” she reflected. “It alters your perspective on everything.”

‘In recovery mode’: The community starts cleaning up

While firefighters battled the wildfires, Arto Sultanyan also put up a fight.

He evacuated his wife and three children—ages 10, 7, and 6—to a hotel when mandatory evacuation orders were issued. Sultanyan remained behind, determined to protect his home and small farm, armed only with a respirator mask and garden hose. He dashed between nearby fires, ensuring his house and a neighbor’s property were spared from the flames. Embers flew around him, burning holes in his clothes, and when he ran low on water, he resorted to filling buckets from his pool.

He persevered through the ordeal.

Although Sultanyan’s home remained standing after the fire, he mentioned that this ordeal has profoundly impacted him.

“What I did was inspired by the news of another man’s tragic end,” Sultanyan shared. “His wife had gone, and when they returned, they found him in the driveway with the hose in hand. Would I do it again? No, I wouldn’t. But in that moment, I was all in. We had to resist the flames.”

In the days that followed, Sultanyan found himself in a devastated area, with his house lacking both water and electricity. For a time, the evacuation order prevented him from seeking food and supplies, risking his ability to return.

Most of the neighborhood remains closed off to the public. Emergency responders, law enforcement, utility workers, and the press have access, while residents and other civilians are mostly restricted from entering the heavily damaged zones.

This ongoing situation has caused increasing frustration among Altadena’s residents. They want to return home, even if it means digging through ashes and debris to salvage any cherished items that might have survived.

“It’s quite challenging,” Regan spoke out from her temporary stay at a Motel 6 in Pasadena, where she is with her daughter and son-in-law. “Hotels expect you to check in by 11 a.m. for another night, but how can you know?”

Erik Hernandez, a deputy fire marshal for Napa County and the public information officer for the Eaton Fire, stated that the officials are currently in “recovery mode.” Before residents can return or “repopulate,” a team of first responders and utility workers must first ensure the area is safe for civilians.

This includes clearing roads, conducting search-and-rescue operations, repairing utility lines, and assessing damage to properties. They are also tasked with removing dangers like lithium batteries, which are common in many household items and can explode when exposed to extreme heat, along with unstable chimneys that could collapse.

Once residents are able to return, firefighters warn that safety measures will be critical, particularly for those searching through the remains of their homes.

“Our division has instructed us that if residents attempt to return, we will aid them in looking for belongings,” explained Sprague, the battalion chief from Victorville, as he pointed toward a destroyed house. “However, it’s a risky undertaking right now.”

Even those fortunate enough to have houses still standing might not be able to move back in right away. Many structures that survived the fire show smoke damage, and toxic ash is pervasive in the most severely affected areas. Officials fear that some neighborhoods’ water supplies may also be compromised.

“The clean-up and recovery will be a lengthy process,” Hernandez noted.

Some residents may not have the luxury of waiting. The majority of Altadena’s population isn’t as affluent as those in Pacific Palisades, an area that received nationwide attention when its mansions caught fire.

“The job security and income vary significantly,” explained Mays, a UCLA professor focusing on health disparities among different racial groups. “The types of jobs held by those residents differ, alongside their financial standings.”

Regan shared that her husband is still employed, and as seniors, they receive Social Security, allowing them some financial flexibility to stay in a budget motel for “a couple more weeks.” However, extended temporary housing could start to impact her daughter’s college savings.

Even if the evacuation notice for her area is lifted, life won’t return to normal quickly. The items Regan salvaged from her home carry a strong smell of smoke, and while her neighborhood was relatively unharmed, it’s surrounded by areas that have been completely destroyed.

“I’m not sure I’d feel safe returning with all this destruction around,” Sprague remarked. “Yet, remaining options are limited. Many local hotels are at capacity, and while evacuation centers were available, people now seek more than just a cot.”

‘Tough Times’: Will Altadena Bounce Back Amid Anxiety and Hope?

Jenn Tolbert, who leads St. Mark’s School in Altadena, knew her home and the school were lost when the alarm system began sending alerts.

“The heat detectors were triggering, and I dreaded the worst,” she reflected. “It felt like I was watching my campus and home disappear from afar.”

Approximately 325 students attend the Episcopal school, which offers education from preschool to sixth grade. Fortunately, one building— a newly built preschool— survived the destruction and so did a few items: the school’s sign, a lion-shaped bollard symbolizing its mascot, and several lunch tables.

“That’s the miracle we cling to; it brings us hope for the future,” Tolbert stated.

The exact nature of recovery in Altadena remains uncertain. Many residents fear that some of their neighbors may be pushed out, unable to afford the costs of rebuilding.

For generations, many families, particularly Black and Hispanic ones who have lived in the area for decades, have passed down their homes. Despite this history, some might lack sufficient insurance or any insurance at all. Homeowners without a mortgage do not have a legal obligation to maintain insurance, leading some to allow their policies to lapse or fail to update them as property values increased.

“I worry deeply for them,” expressed Glyn Samuel, a lifelong Altadena resident. “They represent a significant part of our community. Losing them means losing a part of ourselves.”

Mays noted a significant indicator of the community’s plight; local residents are posting on fundraising sites like GoFundMe asking for substantial amounts— often $100,000— as opposed to smaller figures meant just to get by during tough times.

“These requests reflect the grave resources needed to replace homes. Others, in wealthier areas like Pacific Palisades, may have the funds to rebuild,” she observed. “There’s real concern about whether these families can regain what they’ve lost.”

Despite these challenges, hope remains alive among many residents. Bagnerise indicated worries about investors purchasing properties to convert them into rental units but believes in Altadena’s enduring strength, which has been evident over the years.

“Altadena is going to emerge even stronger,” she affirmed. “We must unite in this.”

As the reality of the fires begins to settle, others are taking proactive steps. Singh plans to reopen his store swiftly to provide essential items, tools, and groceries that are often missing from his inventory. By transforming his liquor store into a general store, he and his team hope to play a role in the recovery.

“We adore this community,” he asserted. “We’ll contribute whatever we can for as long as we’re able.”

Tolbert recognizes that her school will play a vital role in supporting students and their families as they navigate recovery over the coming months. On Friday, she toured temporary locations that will allow the school to resume operations and address the social and emotional needs of the community.

“I believe that our students are learning a valuable lesson about facing challenges in life,” she remarked. “When hardships arise — and they will — it’s about persevering with the support of your community.”

Sultanyan broke the heartbreaking news to his children that their beloved tortoise, Chief, did not survive the fire. He mentioned that the kids handled it surprisingly well.

“When my son arrived, he immediately rushed to the chicken coop, and all that was left were screws,” Sultanyan recalled. “He told me, ‘I have the screws. I just need wood to fix it.’

Sultanyan is also beginning to reflect on the turmoil he faced during the fire and the aftermath.

“At least I still have my house, my health, and my family,” he said. “But wow, what a nightmare we endured.”

Sasha Hupka reports on county government and election processes for The Arizona Republic. She shared this story for the News Network while on a special assignment in Los Angeles. Reach out to her at sasha.hupka@arizonarepublic.com. Follow her on X: @SashaHupka. Follow her on Instagram or Threads: @sashahupkasnaps. On Bluesky, follow her at: @sashahupka.bsky.social.