I spent a couple of weeks in Pennsylvania for work and missed the recent fires in Southern California…it was only this week that I finally took a moment to drive through Altadena, California (just eight minutes from my home) and see the destruction of the Eaton Fire myself.
The Destructive Path Of The Eaton Fire In Altadena, California, A Photo Essay
It was unbelievable. These were streets I knew well. You may have seen videos or read news reports about how the fire-destruction area looks like a war zone, but this took me back to Ukraine and Afghanistan…you have to see it to understand the mass scale of the destruction.
Street after street, block after block, the same thing. The same story. Nothing but chimneys and debris…
And it’s personal too. I know four families who lost their homes.
At one…all that was left was the chimney and wrought iron circular staircase that reminded me of a vintage 747.
This was real. I spent countless hours in that house with my dear friends. Coffee on the terrace. Dinner in the kitchen. Conversations in the dining room. I went down those circular stairs…
I could close my eyes and picture the house as it looked before.
And the rooms…
It hit me hard…it’s more than losing your house…it’s losing memories and the time and effort you put into making a house a beautiful home. It’s like losing a life work you had labored so long to create. A home is like a piece of art, that has personality and character and charm and is all the more evident when you know the homeowners and see their character in the house.
* * *
There was a man in his 70s who was digging in the front yard of a house. I stopped and talked to him. He had been in Altadena for his entire life…he was digging through the ash looking for memories…and devasted.
Many homes still stand, but every home is empty…the smoldering ash has decimated the air quality, making it hazardous to remain. Weeks after the fire was contained, electricity is only now being restored. Traffic signals are still off. Businesses are closed.
The clean-up process will be a marathon of its own and rebuilding will take years. Altadena will never be the same.
I’m not going to focus here on the upside…that despite the massive destruction only 17 lives were lost. One should not use the word only when describing human life and death. That’s 17 too many, but it could have been far, far worse considering the magnitude of the property damage.
I’m thinking of that Lee Greenwood God Bless The USA song, which starts, “If tomorrow all the things were gone I worked for all my life, and I had to start again with just my children and my wife…” and it is true: homes can be rebuilt, but lives cannot. And it is heartening to see the community rally and support relief efforts, helping those in need with shelter, food, and clothing.
But today I mourn with those who mourn and I reflect, again, on the brevity and fragility of life.
Eight minutes away, wow! You really lucked out! Good for you.
Well done, Matthew.
What an amazing but serene collection of pictures. You friends home looked amazing. Hope they are doing ok under the circumstances.
But the “endangered” and protected Braunton’s Milkvetch wasn’t harmed. Great frakin’ choice.
Matt, Thank you for sharing
In biblical times God used fire to cleanse as well.
I am sorry for your friends’ loss, but I am glad to hear that your home is safe.
The most eerie thing to me in these photos is how some random items remained untouched – oranges on an orange tree, a mailbox, a wicker chair, half of a fence door, a dining table, the community book share. It’s something you see often here in Tornado Alley, where a tornado strips one house down to the foundation, and leaves another two doors down completely unharmed. Never something I imagined would also be true in a wildfire.
Thank you for the beautiful tribute, Matthew!
Overfill visual essay.
Thank you.
Predictive text kills me.
Powerful visual essay.
Thank you