With a new year just beginning, victims at LILA of the January 2025 fires in Los Angeles tell their stories and reflect on their journey through their quintessential experiences of grief.

By Malachi Newman with Loïc McAllen, Imogen Freiwald, Nzoi N’Gouamba – Photos by Carys Thomas.

January 2026 marks the one-year anniversary of the Eaton and Palisades fires, which devastated families across Los Angeles. The Eaton Fire incinerated approximately 6,000 homes, the Palisades Fire around 7,000. Thirty-one people lost their lives. 

Now, with 2026 to promise new opportunities, LILA fire victims ponder their lives as they are now and as they once were and how the tragedy of losing most—if not all—of their possessions, heirlooms, and treasures so instantaneously has affected their lives and the way they see the world around them. Below are stories and reflections of four LILA students who were forced to relocate because of the 2025 wildfires.

Loïc McAllen, 9th grade – Eaton Fire victim

For a few years before the fires, the highlight of my weekends was often a walk up to northern Altadena. We would walk for about thirty minutes, admiring the peaceful beauty of the neighborhood. I remember vividly getting a coffee at Café de Leche on Lake Avenue and then, on the way back, stopping by the library to pick up some graphic novels. The week before the fires, while still on my winter break, I wanted to go on the walk. The timing didn’t work out and my dad said that we would go next weekend. The Eaton Fire started four days later. 

The day of the fires, I didn’t go to school because of the extreme wind. That night I remember when my mom got a call from my dad. He was driving back on New York Drive and had seen the fire roaring. We ran to the window, and in the distance you could see this fiery shape in the dark. It almost resembled a scorching ball of flame. We packed our bags and got out as quick as we could, refuging ourselves in a hotel on the other side of the freeway. From our hotel room window, I could see the shattered tops of streetlights bouncing violently down the avenue. 

We ended up staying at the Burbank Marriott for what felt like an eternity. Thankfully, our house did not burn. But our neighborhood did. Altadena was my home. All my friends’ houses and places I used to go to had burned. I realized that we would not return and that even after everything would be rebuilt, it would not be the same. 

A year later, I think back on that night and all the chaos and sorrow that followed it. I know there is hope for Altadena. The community will continue to thrive and, no longer living there, I still consider myself part of the community. The areas that were lost will live on in my memory. Where I live now doesn’t feel nearly as close to home, but with time I adjusted and began to accept my new neighborhood. Accepting it doesn’t mean I am replacing Altadena. It means I am finally at peace with what happened and can move on. If I regret one thing, it is that I never got to do that final walk.

Nzoi N’Gouamba, 8th grade – Eaton Fire victim

My experience in the community of Altadena was actually pretty nice because there were just small houses everywhere and everyone was really friendly. I had some neighbors, but I didn’t actually interact with them. And there was a local library and they used to throw parties every night, and that was really nice. And Christmas Tree Lane obviously was fun. So the community was just really nice and helpful to me and I really enjoyed living there. 

It started at night. I was in my house, just eating, and I went outside, and I was like, “Oh. It’s really windy out here! I wonder what’s happening.” It was dark and there were pink clouds everywhere. That was also weird because it was night and that shouldn’t have been happening. When we went back inside to sit down, there was a knock at our door. Luckily, if it wasn’t for my neighbor, we would actually probably still be in that house while it was burning down. They came and told us, “Oh, hey. There’s a fire nearby and you should evacuate.” 

It took a while to evacuate. We had to drive all three of our cars back and forth to my grandma’s house. Usually it takes us five minutes, but that time it took us thirty minutes, which is really odd. We were calling all our family members who live up on the mountains to warn them. And by the time we went up to my grandma’s house, we got the warning. That was when it was really close to our house, which was really weird because we had a fire department right next door. 

A few days later, we drove over to a hotel to get far, far away from the fires. My sister and I have asthma, so it’s really bad for our lungs. When school took a break because of all the fires to make sure the students were okay, it was a really devastating moment for me and my family, as well. That was actually the first time I’ve ever seen my parents cry. My dad actually was just crying. I wasn’t actually aware that my house burned down until after [my parents] took me to a park and had to tell me and explain what happened. When I went back to LILA, it was actually a pretty nice experience. Everyone was asking how I was doing and if I was okay or not. 

What I really disliked about the fires was that the government was not really helping my family in general. We were trying to get money to help us build, and they weren’t really helping with that. My mom was breaking down in tears every day because they wouldn’t help. And that’s where I felt really bad because I really wanted to help, but I couldn’t. So, we raised a GoFundMe to get help. And now I think it’s really nice because we’re actually starting to rebuild our house and we’re going to another one right now to rent. I think the fires actually really helped me see more how impactful it can be to lose something you really love and cherish.

Imogen Freiwald, 8th grade – Palisades Fire victim

Although I didn’t get to do much during the actual evacuation, I was there before and afterwards. During the school break, we couldn’t go outside because of the wind, which, thinking back on, makes sense of why the fires were so easily spread—partially because it was really dry, it was easier for the fire to go around. The supervisors at school thought there could be debris or something that we could breathe in, so we weren’t supposed to go outside at all. We basically just had a normal school day towards the end, but at the end of the day I thought my babysitter was gonna pick me up from school, but then a good friend of mine came up to me and said: “Hey. No, you’re coming home with me today.” And originally I thought he was joking until I checked my texts to find my mum texted me saying that I would leave with him that day. I wondered why, but assumed mum had her reasons and didn’t question it. 

I went with my friend and his dad to their house. While or after doing homework, I got a call from my mum where she finally explained the situation and said they were evacuating and that I wouldn’t get to go home. On the call, it was already dark, and my parents were in our camper van going down the mountain. Thanks to all the evacuation warnings we got before, I already had a bag packed and ready with all the special or irreplaceable items, along with pictures of the contents in case I took anything out. When I learned about the evacuation happening I felt so bad that I wasn’t able to help my parents. We have four pets—two cats and two dogs—and, even though my parents saw the fire climbing the mountain at around 11 AM, packing the animals had to be last. My mum even said that Raven—one of the cats—almost didn’t make it because she kept hiding and, being a small black cat, she’s hard to find.

I didn’t get to go home for almost a year. I only saw the destruction from photos. I just had to wait by my phone to see if there was any more news that could come in. Our neighbors had rented an Airbnb because they knew things were going to get dangerous and, since we got all those evacuation warnings beforehand, they thought to get somewhere to evacuate to for about a week, which was kind of smart. They had an Airbnb for their friends who didn’t have anywhere to go. There ended up being three families total, all staying in this small house with a pool, which was nice. Although, the house was small, and even just walking in the house felt really chaotic and stressful. My parents needed to think of a new living situation, and soon, because Airbnb only lasted until Friday. It was really hard to find somewhere that could fit everyone, but we eventually found one in Studio City. It was a cool house, but not ideal. 

Topanga was absolutely insane in reaction to the fires. Not only were some people sneaking by the police and firefighters to get stuff from their houses that they forgot to pack, but also at the same time, the firefighters’ job was so hard because there were people in Topanga who would guard their houses and say that the government’s not gonna help them, so they’d “take matters into their own hands” and they would stand outside and not put out their own fire, or would, but badly. 

Anyway, we lived in the house in Studio City for quite a while. Once the lease was up, my parents had had enough of that house, which is how we found the house that we’re currently staying at. It’s been pretty good there and things are getting better with the recovery. It’s close to the old house so we can keep an eye on construction progress, and it’s about the same routine as before.

Malachi Newman, 8th grade – Eaton Fire victim

My family had just returned from a trip to beautiful Hawaiʻi for the holidays; we were celebrating and excited for New Year’s Day. It had been only a few years since we had moved to Altadena. We would always tell one another how much we loved our area and community. When we were warned of the Santa Ana winds, we were only concerned about trees falling over, but not of a fire. We evacuated early to a hotel with important belongings we didn’t want to lose. I remember that night seeing smoke and fire out of the window and wishing for the best. We heard of several friends’ homes that had burned. I hoped. The next morning, we heard that our home was gone. We were all depressed and frustrated with the world. And nevertheless, I remember it not being all of the ‘stuff’ lost that made us grieve, but the memories attached to so many things that had more significance than just their physical form.

Throughout the whole melancholy, everyone was advising me to focus on the ‘silver linings’ of the situation: what we still had. My school was not destroyed, we had not lost any family—like the few evacuees who had, and we had family, friends, and fellow fire victims to support us throughout the process. I think this ‘silver lining’ concept really helped me overcome the conundrum. I now feel so much less connected and attached to physical objects, and loss is now more of a given than an obstacle—even loss of things with meaning and that bring happy memories. Also, I think that now I tend to treasure experiences over purchases, travel over shopping, spending time with friends over receiving gifts from them.

This also makes me reflect on religion—from a non-religious person’s perspective: how I should morally be a good human being and live my best life, unattached to objects and distractions. To me, it’s reminiscent of Buddhism and the pondering and reflecting reminds me of Quakerism. Really, the fire was a true test to these ideas and core beliefs. Perhaps the fire, in giving this new-found intellect, is a gift rather than a grievance.

Recently, I have also attended some events for Altadena community-building, which the “Altadena Strong” and “Altadena is Not for Sale” movements have definitely had a major influence upon. The 2025 Christmas Tree Lane lighting, for instance, seemed more packed than usual to me. This event had been an Altadena favorite for a long time now—it’s been a tradition for over one hundred years, but now the community created around the event seems more connected than previous years, with the shared loss of homes all across the area. In fact, the opening speeches of the ceremony were dominantly referencing the tragedy at the beginning of the year and talked of new bonds and a sense of family among all those who were affected. This, too, makes me have a new realization: that perhaps the fires separated the community physically, but emotionally and spiritually, we are now only closer and more connected. In terms of the future, I purely have hope for Altadena.