Cathy Smythe stood in the lot of what had been her home on Altadena’s Alta Pine Drive, sifting through ashes and rubble.
She and her husband had left in a hurry before the flames swept down from the nearby San Gabriel Mountains, consuming their home of 24 years along with most of the surrounding houses.
Now she examined the damage.
“There are a lot of memories in this house,” Smythe said in a cracking voice. “It’s hard to leave.”
About 100,000 people were ordered to evacuate this week ahead of the Eaton fire, hastily leaving homes, cars and prized possessions — the creations of a lifetime — amid howling winds driving an insatiable firestorm.
With winds easing, at least temporarily, on Thursday, the still-raging fire eased away from Altadena and back into the foothills, giving residents their first chance to return.
Forest fires have long been a part of life here, but locals tend to think of them largely as the source of nuisance smoke. The Eaton fire changed that notion, destroying as many as 5,000 structures, leaving little behind but brick chimneys and the splattered carcasses of washing machines, barbecue grills and pickup trucks.
But Ms Smythe discovered that the safe containing her first wedding ring had survived. She put the ring in her pocket.
Rosa Bugarín managed to save some personal documents but little else when she evacuated with her husband and two children early Wednesday. They had lived in their Altadena house for 20 years and poured their savings into a remodel when they turned an 800-square-foot bungalow into their dream home.
“I thought I would come back to my house a lot of ash and maybe trees down,” she said. “But not burned down.”
José Nájera had also not thought that the fire would amount to much. He had left with his family around 3:30 a.m. Wednesday because of the smoke, before the flames had reached their home on Mountain View Street. He returned with relatives on Thursday to sift through the wreckage.
There was nothing to be found. Mr Nájera’s sister excitedly lifted a key from the jumble of metal, glass and ash – only to realize the lock it opened long ago was gone.
A few houses down, Ariana Vasquez left piles of food scraps and bowls of water around what remained of the gate outside her home, hoping the cats she’d had to leave behind would return. She had also come looking for the urn with her father’s ashes, but failed to find it.
Two sisters, Andrea and Greta Gurrola, stood together crying in the yard of what had been their uncle’s house on Monterosa Drive, one of Altadena’s hardest-hit streets. All they found intact was a shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe at the back of the house and a statue of Jesus.
Before returning, the sisters had seen clips online of people making light of the devastation.
“I was watching a TikTok Live where someone was recording the burn, and they’re like, ‘Oh, eat the rich,’” Greta said.
Altadena had some rich people, Greta admitted, but many here, like her uncle who came from Mexico, had put everything into their homes.
“At his age, 80, does he have to rebuild it?” she asked. “This is all he’s ever worked for.”
