It was 6:30 at night on Tuesday, January 7th. The power had been out all day and the wind was kicking up a storm. My mom came into my room, eyes wide, with a lantern, and told me that there was a fire in Eaton Canyon and we had to evacuate. I froze and immediately thought of the time, several years ago, when my mom had us practice escape routes and pack go-bags. It had sparked some anxiety in me. I jumped up from my bed and started packing. 

I tried to stay calm while collecting my valuables. But as a 16 year old, what valuables do you really own? Most clothes you grow out of, you are always buying new things, your room is filled with random items, and any possessions that the younger you had thought were important are now barely a thought in your mind. 

I started with my toiletries and the items I use everyday: my pajamas, favorite jewelry and makeup. Next, I went for my vintage clothing and grabbed my leather jacket, jean jacket, purse, and jeans I got in London. Then I grabbed my favorite stuffed animals, which reminded me of all the baby clothes I had been saving in a box. I opened the box and took out a few of my most treasured pieces. I walked over to my bookshelf and stared at my record player and the small record collection I had been building. I decided to leave it. I looked at all the books I had collected over the years. I decided to leave those as well. Then I saw my memory box, photos of my grandparents, and a little painting I picked out when I went to Morocco. I grabbed all of this stuff without a second thought. 

While I was packing, three of my friends called me, two of whom lived in Altadena. I asked one what she was packing and she said, “Just a couple of shirts and some personal stuff. It’s not going to be that bad, right? We’ll be back tomorrow.” I agree with her, saying, “Yeah, it’s probably not that serious,” 

We got our animals – two cats and a dog – in the car, put our stuff in the trunk and headed to my grandmother’s house. 

I had just walked out my front door for the very last time. 

The first four days were a blur. Life was unorganized and stuff was scattered everywhere. After those few days, I decided to go volunteer at the Pasadena City College charity drive. I knew I couldn’t just sit at home feeling sorry for myself when there were people in much worse situations than me.

It felt so good to volunteer because almost nobody knew me and no one was asking me if I had lost my home, how I was doing, or telling me how sorry they were. They just knew I was there to help. 

Today, a few weeks later, I can look back on everything that happened and see that I was extremely lucky to have grown up in beautiful Altadena. That’s what people call it – “Beautiful Altadena.” It’s on license plate frames, stickers, and hats. The hiking trails, the parks, the schools, the houses, and most importantly the people made it home. A truly beautiful home.

All of my favorite childhood memories took place in Altadena. I went to Odyssey Charter School (North). My classmates and their families would often take a quick walk up to the farmers market after school was out. Sometimes they would stop at Junior Mart, the local convenience store.

I was lucky enough to experience walking to Cafe De Leche after a sleepover at my friend’s house. I got to experience the beautiful hikes up Mt. Wilson and down in Eaton Canyon. I put on makeup for the first time in my childhood best friend’s home on Thurin Avenue, just a few blocks from my place. I learned to swim at the Gerrish Swim and Tennis Club and perfected my strokes at the Altadena Country Club. I had little league games in Farnsworth Park. I saw horses, and sometimes a llama, on their daily walks past my living room window. I could see the stars from my backyard at night. I walked down Christmas Tree Lane every December to see the Christmas lights. I attended Girl Scout meetings and sleepovers all over town. 

Every time I realize that people will never get to experience the Altadena I did, my heart hurts.

While I am devastated that my house where I spent virtually all my childhood is gone, I am forever grateful to the community. Nothing can ever describe the gratitude I have for growing up in beautiful Altadena.