A reader loses his family home and studio in the fire

Regular of this site will surely know of Robert Lang, physicist and origami master (art website here) whom I met a while back at the Kent Presents meetings. We became friendly and thereafter he contributed both wildlife photos and origami photos to this website (see all his posts here).

I was scheduled to meet Robert and his wife Diane today after the meetings and get a tour of their home and studio (she’s an author), thereafter then sallying forth to dinner. I hadn’t seen Robert in years, and had never met Diane, so I was looking forward to visiting their digs and to seeing some of the famous origami.

The problem was that their home and studio were in Altadena, California, near Los Angeles, so you can guess what I’m going to say next.

The home and studio are no more, taken down by wildfire. But I’ll let Robert tell the tale. His words, printed with permission, are indented below, and are supplemented with narrated videos (there are even subtitles).  This is the story of a family who lived through the fire but lost everything—except for the most important things: their lives and their animals.

Note that they actually lost two houses, as they had just bought another down the street.

Late Tuesday afternoon, we heard about the Eaton Fire, which started over in Eaton Canyon, about 2 miles to our east and several ridges over. The initial reports were that the wind was driving the fire to the east (away from us), so we were hopeful. At about 6:30 pm, though, my neighbor texted the neighborhood group that he saw a glow over the ridge to our east, and I headed up to my studio to see. By 7:30 pm I saw the fire crest that ridge and we received the “evacuate NOW” notice, so I threw as much as I could grab into my car and headed down, while my wife did the same from our home (with the dogs, tortoises, snake, and tarantula that live with us).

We spent the next few hours driving and parking to try to watch things from a distance. Surprisingly, the evacuation zone ended just to the west of our neighborhood, so after a while, I started making my way to the edge of the zone, staying out of the way of the many emergency vehicles, and presently found a spot from which I could walk to the edge of the canyon that separated me from my studio. From there, I could see the studio; I could also see that the entire multi-thousand-foot mountainside above it was in sheets of flame. The wind was blasting through the canyons, driving 50-foot plumes of flame and embers horizontally. About 1:30 am, I saw a flare-up right at the studio, and within about 10 minutes, it was engulfed. I also realized about that time that the fire would likely take down the telephone poles (and thus, potentially live wires) along my route, so I beat a hasty retreat to my car, and before long, the authorities announced that our area was now evacuation zone. We drove down the hill to Pasadena, found a quiet neighborhood out of the smoke (and, we hoped, the path of the fire), and spent a fitful rest of the night in our cars, awaiting what the morning would bring.

In the morning, my wife stayed with the animals and I drove up the hill to see what became of our house. Major roads were blocked off, but I wove through the neighborhoods, dodging still-burning homes (though the worst was past), downed wires, downed trees, and random debris, until I could get up to my neighborhood. It was a zone of total devastation: nearly all homes burned–and definitely mine. (Actually, both of ours; we had just moved down the street, so both our old house–just moved out of–and the new house–just moved into–were leveled.) I made my way up to my studio at the top of the hill, passing street after street of nothing but smoldering ruins. When I made it up, I found something incredible: the row of houses below my studio had entirely survived! I texted their owners the good news. I could see, though, that my studio had not; I parked (debris blocked my driveway), walked up, and surveyed the destruction, took a few videos and pictures for records, then high-tailed it down the hill.

Right now, the estimates are that 7000 structures were damaged or destroyed. It looks like about 2/3 of Altadena is gone. There’s a lot of snark on the internets about the rich people/celebrities/influencers in Pacific Palisades losing their houses. I haven’t seen similar snark about Altadena, which is a mixed-class, mixed-race community. There are turn-of-the-century buildings, craftsman houses, bungalows, tiny starter homes, and yes, a few mansions left over from the days when it was the summer playground of the rich. My wife grew up here; her father built their house himself in the 40s after clearing the orange groves from the parcel he bought. On the main drag downtown, the local hardware store was where you ran into your neighbors; Fox’s Restaurant had been a local landmark since 1955. All that is gone.

Ironically, I had recently returned from a business trip to Dresden, Germany, which was (famously) fire-bombed and leveled in WWII. They rebuilt. So will we. But it will be a long road to recovery.

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Here a Cal Fire map of fire damage. The damaged area covers about 2/3 of Altadena. My home and studio is in the top middle of the burned civilized area, just to the left of the vertical black bar on the map.

This map is an understatement; I know some of the areas shown in gray actually burned.

Here are a few of the videos Robert posted on his YouTube site:

Panorama of the fire from the studio:

View of the mountains from the house:

Views of the destroyed house:

Views of the destroyed studio:

As you can tell from the narration, Robert appears remarkably calm about this, as he was in his email to me about the destruction, which was headed “change of plans.”  I would be wailing with grief! But Robert and I do have one thing in common: a compulsion to document. His is with words and videos, mine involves in putting them on this site.

Best of luck, Robert and Diane, and of course we’re all sorry for your loss.