By Anissa Durham
Word in Black
For decades, Altadena functioned as a rare constant in the Los Angeles area: a place where Black families owned homes and passed something on to their descendants. That all changed with the Eaton Fire.
One year after the fire tore through Altadena and neighboring communities, destroying thousands of homes and displacing families who had lived there for generations, the neighborhood remains in flux. Rebuilding has been slow, uneven, and expensive. Some residents are pressing forward. Others, finding it too difficult, have left. But collectively, their decisions may determine whether one of Los Angeles County’s most stable Black enclaves endures.
Zella Knight understands that uncertainty all too well.
“Though the physical fire is over, the remnants of that fire still continues,” she says.
Knight lost her family’s Altadena home in the Eaton Fire. The house had been in her family for decades. It was the first place her parents moved after migrating from Jim Crow Mississippi in the 1960s. In Altadena, they found a neighborhood where Black folks were able to buy and own.
Knight, who is 62 and now lives 20 minutes west in Sun Valley, had already endured profound loss before the fire. Her mom died in 2022. Her father followed in 2024. Five months later to the day, fire decimated their family home.
Knight is one of four siblings. Her younger brother, Robert, who lived with a disability, had been living in the family home, with in-home care support. The arrangement, Knight says, was meant to give him a sense of independence.
On Jan. 7, 2025, Robert was evacuated from the house. Two days later, the home the family knew and loved was ash. In the months that followed, Robert lived with Knight. And then, in August 2025, Robert died.
“Given the fact that he couldn’t go back to the only place he knew … he was very distraught and upset about that,” Knight says. “It created a lot of trauma and stress and I think that was a contributor to his passing.”
The remnants remain
For much of the 20th century, discriminatory housing policies dictated where Black people could live in Los Angeles County. In the 1960s Altadena was a 95 percent White and 4 percent Black community, due to redlining and racially restrictive covenants. But, during the Civil Rights Movement, these racist laws became unenforceable. The unincorporated community in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains became one of the few places offering home loans to Black and Brown people.
By 2022, the Black homeownership rate in Altadena was about 30 percent higher than other parts of Los Angeles County. There was also nearly a year over year increase from 2018 to 2022 for homeownership in the community. According to the Associated Press more than 81.5 percent of people owned their homes in Altadena in 2023 — an outlier in a region defined by housing insecurity and rising rents. Many of those homes were held by families like Knight’s that had lived there for decades.
Churches, schools and organizations reflected long-standing friendships and relationships. Neighbors knew each other. Families stayed.
The Eaton Fire disrupted all that. The official cause of the Eaton Fire has yet to be determined. But the U.S. Department of Justice has blamed Southern California Edison for the fire. And the Los Angeles Times reported that the utility provider did not repair aging transmission lines.
It burned more than 14,000 acres. 19 people died and more than 9,000 homes and structures were destroyed in Altadena. The fire took 25 days to extinguish. A year later, the demographic consequences are tougher to measure; it’s unclear how many Black residents remain.
Gov. Gavin Newsom requested $33.9 billion in federal disaster aid, but the money has been slow to reach Altadena residents. According to reporting from The Associated Press, as of late 2025, fewer than one dozen homes have been rebuilt in the area burned by the Eaton Fire. And a recent report from Redfin shows investors are scooping up nearly half of the lots in Altadena.
Last year in the aftermath of the fire, Vickie Mays, professor of psychology at the University of California, Los Angeles, told Word In Black she was worried about what will happen to the Black residents of Altadena. It’s understandable that people want to stay with their close-knit community, she said, but Altadena residents are going to experience a new normal.
“Not everybody has the stomach to rebuild in the same place. Some people don’t have the money,” Mays said. “So, what you’re looking at is, your neighborhood as you knew it is probably not going to be your neighborhood of the future.”
The cost of rebuilding
William Syms lost his home in the Eaton Fire and currently lives in Glendale, a former sundown town just east of Altadena. The 41-year-old spoke with Word In Black last year just days after losing his home when he was still absorbing what had happened. One year later, the husband and father of two young children says the loss brought his family closer together, but he admits it’s taken a toll. Nevertheless, he’s still determined to rebuild the house that burned down.
To him, Altadena is a community he plans to continue to raise his children in.
Syms is busy submitting plans for approval to rebuild his home. Fingers crossed, he hopes to get the greenlight by the end of January. He anticipates the build will take place between June and December of this year. In an ideal scenario, the family would celebrate Christmas 2026 in their new Altadena home.
“Life is good because we’re here and we have the chance to create another chapter in the legacy of this family and community,” he says.
In the meantime, life has been tough. Though the Syms family eventually secured long-term temporary housing, for months they’ve shuffled bags between homes, often keeping clothes in different places. He never thought of himself as homeless, though, he says. And even though his children are exhausted, they’re some of the most resilient people he knows.
One of the biggest challenges? A lack of affordable and available housing. “Prices, mysteriously, overnight got astronomical,” he says. And dealing with insurance companies has been a slow trickle. While they have been responsive, Syms says, it’s an arduous and cumbersome process.
“It almost feels like the apparatus is situated to push you out or make you quit,” he says. “The rebuilding process of just finding housing has been a barrier. But having the community around us has allowed us to push forward.”
In recent months Syms has run into community members at church and other events that have reinforced his belief in the power of Altadena. A few weeks ago, a beloved tradition continued in Altadena: Santa Rosa Avenue, affectionately known as Christmas Tree Lane, had its annual lighting — the mile-long stretch of road is home to the oldest large-scale outdoor Christmas lighting display in the United States.
“My commitment to the community, my love for the community, has deepened because of how we’ve come together,” Syms says. “We aren’t going anywhere. Community can heal. But we still need help.”
This article was originally published by WordinBlack.com.