By Mickala Becktor and interview of Laura Sévin
One of the first things you notice when moving to the Pasadena/Altadena area is the breathtaking view of the San Gabriel Mountains—a beautiful backdrop to our daily lives. But overnight, that familiar view turned into our worst nightmare. Now, almost three months later, the scorched canyons and the empty neighborhoods of charred homes remain a daily reminder of what happened on the night of January 7.
On January 7, in the midst of a record-breaking windstorm, a fire broke out in Eaton Canyon, Altadena, just after dark. It spread rapidly, fueled by fierce winds, and evacuation orders quickly escalated across Altadena, Sierra Madre, Pasadena and La Canada. By nightfall, almost everything above the 210 Freeway was under an evacuation order or warning.
What unfolded that night and into January 8 was devastating. The fire became one of the most destructive in U.S. history, consuming over 9,400 structures and killing at least 17 people. Words fail to capture the magnitude of loss.
We all know someone who lost everything. We’ve all felt the ripple effects—whether through the suffocating smoke, the mass evacuations, the closure of JPL, or schools shutting down for weeks. Witnessing the suffering of our friends and neighbors was heartbreaking.
Yet amid the destruction, we also saw extraordinary resilience. Neighbors opened their homes, communities rallied together, and acts of kindness reminded us of the strength within us. This post exists to acknowledge and remember what happened—both for those who lived through it and for future members joining our community.
I would like to say a special thank you to Laura Sévin and her family for sharing their story, without your voice this post would not have the same meaning.
Introduction to Laura and her family
Hi! I’m Laura, originally from France, I’m an interior designer currently a stay at home mom. My husband is German and works at JPL, we moved to Pasadena in April 2022. At the time, I was pregnant with our first son, who’s now 2 years old, and we’ve since welcomed our second son, who’s 5 months old. When our first was about 6 months old, we moved to a townhouse in Altadena and absolutely loved it—being close to the mountains and in a more family-oriented community has been amazing.
Before the fire
What was your day like before the fire? Were you preparing for the storm?
There was a big storm. My son’s daycare in Altadena was closed, and my husband was working from home, so we were all together. Since we live near big trees, we decided to sleep downstairs in the living room just to be on the safe side—and to keep our older son from worrying, we turned it into a fun little indoor camping adventure.
When did you realize there was a fire?
Around 7 p.m., while we were setting up for our sleepover in the living room, I went upstairs to grab more pillows and close the window shades. That’s when I looked outside and saw a fire in the mountains—not too far from us.
The evacuation
What was the evacuation process like for you and your family?
Between the storm and the fire, we didn’t feel safe at all. We decided to leave quickly—probably between 7 and 8 p.m. I called a friend in Pasadena, and we ended up having a sleepover at their place. Since they also have a 2-year-old, it was actually exciting for our son, which helped keep the situation light. What we thought would be a one-night stay turned into a week sleepover. I’ll never be able to say how grateful we are for them.
What did you take with you before you left?
Just the essentials—clothes for a couple of days, diapers, a folder with important
documents, and a futon and blanket.
Did you ever imagine that your home might burn?
Not at all. We live near the mountains, but not high up, so we never imagined the fire could
actually reach us. We assumed we’d be back the next day or, at worst, after a couple of days if the air quality was bad or if we lost power.
What emotions were running through your mind as you left?
A mix of worry and, strangely, excitement. We really tried to keep things light for our toddler and make it feel like an adventure. At the same time, we were messaging neighbors in Altadena to make sure they knew about the fire. Since we had a clear view of the mountains from our townhouse, we wanted to spread the word to those who might not.
After the fire
When did you find out you had lost your home?
We found out at 8:15 a.m. the next morning. A friend of mine, who also lives in Altadena,
saw our house on fire on TV, took a picture, and immediately called me. Honestly, I didn’t
process it at first. I just hung up, looked at the photo, and started crying. The night before, I
had been glued to the firewatch app, tracking the evacuation zones, but I never thought our home would actually be lost. To make things worse, our neighborhood never received an official evacuation order. Some of our neighbors only realized they had to leave when the fire was already dangerously close, with sheriff deputies waking them up in the middle of the night. It still breaks my heart to think about what they went through.
Did you return to see what was left of your home?
My husband went about a week after the fire to see if anything was left. There wasn’t. I
couldn’t bring myself to go back until more than a month later—it was just too much to
handle. Even then, seeing our neighborhood completely reduced to ashes was heartbreaking.
What were the hardest things to lose?
The hardest losses were the sentimental things—art and souvenirs from
our travels, and personal drawings I had made over the last 15 years. As an expat who has
lived in three different countries, we’ve always taken only the most meaningful items with
us—things that make a place feel like home and tell our story. But the worst loss was the baby keepsakes. I had a small memory box for each of my sons with things like ultrasound pictures, their first beanies and socks, hospital cards, and knitted gifts from their grandma. Losing those felt like losing irreplaceable pieces of their early days. On the administrative side, even though we took our most important documents, we still lost a lot of paperwork, and we’re still trying to replace some of it.
Community and moving forward
How has the community supported you and your family?
The community has been incredible—so much generosity everywhere. People donated
clothes, toys, household essentials, and even businesses pitched in with free coffee and
care packages. CISC has been amazing, especially with kids’ clothes and toys. When my
husband went back to work, they also provided much-needed support and social interaction for me and the kids by opening the Casita.
Were there any acts of kindness that really stood out?
Our friends were just beyond amazing. They welcomed us into their homes, helped with
donations, and even showed up to clean and build furniture when we moved into our new
place. With two kids to take care of, I don’t think we could have managed without them.
Is there anything you would like others to know about losing everything in a fire?
It sucks. It just sucks. It’s not even about the material things—it’s the overwhelming process of rebuilding your life from scratch. Finding a new home, refurnishing everything, replacing documents, setting up utilities, updating addresses—it’s exhausting. And on top of that, applying for relief aid (FEMA, Red Cross, etc.) is an incredibly draining process.
Honestly, I’m so grateful for my husband, who stayed on top of all the administrative work. I don’t know how we would have handled everything otherwise.
How are you and your family doing now after 2 months?
We’re doing better. We’ve moved into a new apartment and have mostly refurnished, though it still feels a bit impersonal. We also had to find a new daycare for my toddler—his daycare burned down too. It’s been a long road, but we’re moving forward.
Thank you Laura for sharing your story with us, we wish you and your family all the best going forward.
Editor’s note: Thank you for reading if you got this far. If you have any experiences of your own that you would like to share, no matter how big or small, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me at blogcisc@gmail.com and I would love help turn it into a blog post for our community.
Mickala Becktor.
Via Pasadena 