A Terrible Week That Was

So I’ve lived in Southern California’s beautiful San Gabriel valley since Kindergarten. For the past ten years I’ve made my home in Pasadena, and about a 15-minute drive north up Lake Blvd to the city of Altadena.

And from Day One in Kindergarten, my view of the majestic San Gabriel mountains has been an inspiration (although during the 60s and 70s, sometimes the smog clouded the majesty.)

My Pasadena memories are plenty and consistently bring a smile. But I realize sometimes it’s the rare negative experiences that retain a kind of hauntingly lengthy lifespan. I don’t know about you, but I have a short list of mind’s eye reproductions of unbelievably bad days. I can replay the events vividly from where I was standing and it seems like last week’s January 7 and 8 will join the ranks of the JFK assassination, the LA riots, and 9/11. Last week was personal. I was an eyewitness.

As of January 7, 2025, the only Pasadena nightmare from which I’ve never fully recovered was just a Rose Bowl football game played on January 4, 2006. Last week, the indomitable forces of nature fed by man’s contribution to climate change erased what I’d been sheltered and entitled enough to perceive as tragedy.

Last week, Pasadena might have lost a neighbor and arguably an embodiment of our better Southern California angels.

The California chaparral was only behaving the way it had for centuries when the seasonal Santa Ana winds advanced to tropical storm speeds over the dry brush to land a beautiful, eclectic, historic town on the Princess Bride “mostly dead” list.

If my math is correct, Altadena celebrated its 137th birthday last year on November 3. “Altadena” comes from the Spanish “Alta” meaning upper, and “dena” from Pasadena. A history of Altadena lives in the book, Altadena: Between Wilderness and City by Michele Zack; I’ll be reading it.

2025’s ethnically diverse community evolved by way of white flight during the 60s and 70s. As of the 2020 US Census, Altadena’s population is 41.2% White, 29.5% Latino, 19.7% African American, and 5.2% Asian.

For me, the now memory of churches, parks, schools, libraries, and small businesses create a visual resembling an updated culturally fast-forwarded SoCal version of a Norman Rockwell painting. Notable Altadena residents have won Pulitzers, Nobel prizes, and Olympic gold medals. For decades, Altadena remained on the Pasadena want list, an annexation by Pasadena was thwarted in 1956 as were attempts that followed. The city has long been emblematic of independence, grit, and a distinctive racial/cultural mosaic.

Tuesday January 7th began as a beautiful sunny Southern California day. I even posted an Instagram video during my morning Pasadena walk down Oak Knoll to the sound of the Beatles and “Good Day Sunshine.”

And by nightfall and the next few days, a close call during the Eaton fire meant surviving the experience and maybe losing everything. A friend and colleague lost her home; it was burned to the ground; her neighbors, whose Pasadena restaurant is my regular Thursday dinner stop, also lost their home to the fire Wednesday night. At least a dozen friends, patients, and friends of friends lost their homes.

And yeah, Rotisserie Chicken of California was open for business on Thursday night, the owners having slept on the restaurant floor in sleeping bags the night before. I was there on Thursday, just hoping to share some concerns and hugs. But the restaurant was open for business, as usual, and the love inside coming from friends, customers, and family provided light and support and even some smiles. It’s hard to review the night of January 9th without shedding a tear.

Yesterday, I read a New York Times article, “Shattered in the fire: A Historic Black Haven,” written by Corina Knoll. The story featured Ms. Shirley Taylor, an Altadena resident since 1979. Turned out, one of Ms. Taylor’s two sons, a super successful businessman, speaker, and contributor to the community, is a former patient.

The article was an eye-opener, and a condensed history of Altadena, west of Lake Blvd. My travels up Lake have occasionally gone all the way up to the mountains for a hike to Mount Lowe, or far more often a righthand turn on Mendocino and then just past the Altadena Town and Country Club to the Altadena Golf Course. I’d make a left on New York only for the path to Brookside Park in Pasadena or to enter the 210 west. And I'd been driving through a historic thriving middle class African American community, with my eyes on the road and missing the beauty.

From the New York Times article and interviews coming from west-of-Lake residents, the typical community of families included networks of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents within a neighborhood of folks looking out for one another.

Reading Corina Knoll’s piece also reminded me of the stories I heard of my Mom’s Blandino famiglia and neighbors during their LA days, a span that lasted from the early 1900s to just beyond my Kindergarten years.

I’ll be learning more about the town I’ve frequently driven through. I’ll be pulling for Altadena. And considering the extent of the destruction coming from the Eaton fire disaster, Altadena’s chances might be viewed as a longshot. But understanding the history of the place and the character of its community, I wouldn’t bet against it.