When I think of Altadena, California, I think of the amazing trees and the beautiful people. Christmas Tree Lane, right in the heart of last week's Eaton Fire, was a December drive-through destination, where a volunteer community group each year decked out towering evergreens up both sides of the street for several blocks, to the delight of young and old.
Both the Eaton (Altadena) Fire and the Pacific Palisades Fire have been the most destructive and traumatic events that have ever crushed the spirit of folk in Southern California. The loss of life is of course the most tragic part of this disaster, and the loss of homes follows that closely. I have read that Pacific Palisades is also another beautiful town with a unique sense of community, but I will talk here of Altadena because it's a town that I know personally.
I will not address here the backdrop issue of galloping incompetence of state and city leaders, as well as bureaucrats running the utility and water companies. But the displaced residents of both Altadena and Pacific Palisades are already convinced that a new firestorm is brewing that will have to do with much more than simple underbrush and empty reservoirs.
On Saturday, Nic Arnzen, vice chair of the Altadena Town Council, commented that in the area of the municipality that he represents, at least two thirds of the houses are gone, including his own. When asked if there had ever been a similar event, Nic responded that "no," the Eaton Fire was "the most traumatic and disastrous event in Altadena's history." As of Sunday, with about 27% of the Eaton Fire contained, at least 7,000 structures burned to the ground, and over 22 square miles of destruction, Altadena was changed forever.
Our relationship with Altadena began in 1976, when the Altadena Baptist Church offered to support our ministry in South America. That help continued through to our retirement in 2012 from 42 years of overseas service in South Asia and South America. Even before retiring in Altadena, we counted many Altadena residents as personal friends.
In the early 2000s, we sold a house we owned in Portland, Oregon, where my wife had grown up, and bought a house in Altadena. People told us we were doing things backwards; one was supposed to sell his house in California and move to Oregon and buy another house...along with a horse farm, of course.
At the tim,e Altadena was about the only place in Southern California where we could afford property, but we chose Altadena not because of the real estate. Rather, our three kids, who were born in India and Nepal, raised in Argentina, and university-educated in Oregon, had decided that the Pacific NW was too cold. (They grew up in the semi-tropics; I told them that Minnesota was cold, not Oregon.) But they also thought Oregon was too white -- quite funny, since all three look more like their mostly Swedish mother. All three moved to Altadena, where we had friends and a church that received them with open arms. Our Altadena house, thankfully still standing, was where our daughter and family lived, and we built a granny apartment in the backyard when we retired. That daughter and our son were both married at Altadena Baptist.
The Altadena Baptist Church, which went up in smoke last Tuesday night, along with the homes of at least 18 families connected with the church, has been a microcosm of the larger Altadena community. The church is about one third black; one third white; and one third Filipino, Hispanic, and everything else. It's a church that has worked hard over the years to mirror the community around it in its membership.
Some decades back, black professionals in Los Angeles County began to migrate to Altadena. I have talked with urban experts from several large cities around the U.S., and it seems that Altadena could have the largest community of black professionals anywhere in the U.S. My personal friends over the years have included black judges, the first black L.A. fire chief, and black musicians. The community also includes many middle- and lower-middle-class black families, Altadena being one of the few places in L.A. County where they could afford to live.
I remember going to play golf at the Altadena Municipal Golf Course dressed in my grubbies and packing a bag of used clubs purchased at Goodwill. I have teed off with black professionals dressed better than Tiger, and in their bags were a couple thousand dollars' worth of clubs. But that's OK -- if this small-town Washingtonian could afford it, his bag would sport the same clubs.
What has deeply impressed me over the years of my relationship with Altadena is the easygoing friendships across racial lines, something that I enjoyed in seven different countries around the world. I remember a backyard barbeque at the home of Paul Devaughn, since gone to his reward. That home was right off Christmas Tree Lane and is now gone. Sitting there with Paul and with Billy Mitchel, professional jazz pianist, I learned some history that I'll never forget. Both were students at Morehouse College in Atlanta back in the Civil Rights days. Both told stories with no pretension about Mrs. King fixing these poor students fried chicken on Sunday afternoons because they also attended Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Baptist church. Billy talked about getting in trouble for playing jazz piano in a practice room at Morehouse -- echoes of Jerry Lee Lewis at his Bible College. They talked about those experiences with the same nonchalance that I can have talking about my college time in Vancouver, B.C.
I do have one friend in the movie industry who purchased a property in a corner of Altadena that is almost totally black. One neighbor told him he was not welcome - a bit of anti-white racism that was totally out of spirit and out of tune with the vast majority of Altadena residents of all backgrounds.
As one would drive higher and higher up the hills in Altadena, those hills actually being the first slopes of the San Gabriel Range looking down on this small paradise, the trees would get taller and seemingly greener. Altadena Drive, now in the heart of the destruction, was one of the most beautiful drives I have experienced anywhere in California.
A few years back I left Altadena, following two grandchildren, and moved some hours east in Southern California. But I have returned to Altadena many times because of friends and a very special church. I will continue those odysseys, but my heart grieves at what I will certainly find.
So many questions plague the dear Altadena residents, especially those who lost so much during one night of exceptionally high winds and flames. How will they rebuild? What will Altadena look like afterward? My personal question: How long will it take for the trees to grow again? But if community spirit has anything to do with rebuilding, Altadena stands a fighting chance.