Altadena neighbors' bonds move them to stay and rebuild

The Eaton fire destroyed more than half the homes on Highland Avenue. Nearly everyone vowed to return.

- By Colleen Shalby

JASON ARMOND Los Angeles Times A COMMUNAL table sits in the middle of Highland Avenue as neighbors enjoy a block party in Altadena.

Before the fire, Heather Rutman could look up the street from her front yard to see if her mom was home. Sometimes when her kids were playing outside and her mom was coming back from the store, they'd jump in her car to go play at Grandma's house.

In the late afternoon, Highland Avenue came alive with families playing catch, neighbors walking dogs together, children biking and skateboarding. At night, Rutman often joined her neighbor Pearlin De Long on her strolls, catching others along the way. A 30-minute venture could easily turn into an hour of vigorous conversation.

This long block in Altadena — canopied with oaks and camphor trees and bookended by two roads — offered a rare small-town feel in the L.A. metropolis. And the people who landed there planted deep roots.

More than half the neighborhood is gone now. But in the months that passed since the Eaton fire, the neighbors have continued to talk remotely and meet regularly to figure out how to rebuild their little world, where parents raised their kids where they had grown up, where the neighbor who had chickens shared their eggs, where residents of all ages watched annual fireworks shows and gathered at block parties and movie nights.

About 30 homes burned down on this street in the Eaton fire; fewer than 20 remain standing. But 10 months after the fire, nearly every resident has vowed to return.

"We know we have something special," De Long said. "From the moment we moved in, we knew this was different."

The tight bonds that Highland Avenue bred are a driving force behind the rebuilding efforts.

It was a street lined with Spanish, Craftsman and ranch-style homes, set back behind wide lawns and shaded by stately trees.