By Jay Fox

January 2025 saw more than a dozen fires erupt across Southern California. Fueled by low humidity, dry conditions, vegetation buildup, and extremely strong Santa Ana winds, the fires killed an estimated 440 people, forced hundreds of thousands to evacuate, and incinerated tens of thousands of acres. Just two fires, the Palisades Fire in Pacific Palisades and the Eaton Fire in Altadena, destroyed more than 16,000 structures within Los Angeles County.

The fires may have left an enormous scar on Los Angeles, but cities like Altadena are committed to building a stronger and more resilient community. This is just one story of resilience.

Though Samad could see the smoke starting to billow up from the Eaton Fire, she couldn’t tell how close the flames were to Altadena until she received a call from her cousin. She told Samad that the country club down the block from her home was on fire. “‘I’m actually going to come to you,’” her cousin told her.

When her cousin arrived they lit candles and began to settle in for the night. Internet and cell service were still working, so they spent several hours texting friends and family to make sure everyone was okay. They were also watching news coverage on social media as it slowly rolled in from Altadena. As Samad notes, major news networks were still focused on the fires in Pacific Palisades, which had started earlier that morning.

Around nine pm, a friend texted Samad and said that his home was gone. “‘What do you mean your house is gone?’” she remembers asking. He just told her that it’s gone, and that he’d learned about it from one of his friends who works for the fire department.

While there had been speculation about the fire's spread, this news was confirmation that the fire was creeping into the residential areas of Altadena. Around the same time, footage began to appear on social media of the evacuation of the Pasadena Park Healthcare & Wellness Center, a facility for seniors that was not far from the friend’s home. Given the location of the friend’s house and the wellness center, it was clear that the fire was quickly moving east, so Samad, her mother, and her cousin decided to evacuate.

They ended up close to an hour south, in Long Beach. The area was safe from the flames and also had electricity so they could charge their phones and watch the news. As the media remained centered on Palisades, most of what they learned about Altadena early in the night and into the wee hours of the morning still came from friends and family.

It wasn’t until around 2 am that media coverage shifted, as this is when the fire began moving west and hopped Lake Avenue. While this change in direction indicated that Samad’s home in Duarte was less at risk than before, she stresses that Lake Avenue is deeply significant within Altadena. On the one hand, it is one of the main commercial strips in the city. On the other, it is central to the history of redlining in Altadena. Streets to the east of Lake Avenue were not subjected to redlining, while streets to west were. As a reminder that the past is never dead, many residents to the west of Lake Avenue received evacuation orders hours after residents who lived to the east did. In some cases, evacuation orders for those on the west side came well after nearby homes had caught fire.

By morning, Samad and her family were still glued to the television. During one particularly bizarre moment, they watched as a correspondent reported from a location on Lake Avenue about a mile south of her cousin’s house. According to Samad, there was an automotive shop on one side of the street and the elementary school where her brother had gone to school on another. Both were on fire.

“We’re watching live coverage of them just on fire and collapsing,” she says. They still had no idea where their neighbors were, if other family members and friends were okay, or if her cousin’s house was still standing. “We’re just watching things fall,” she says. “It was very surreal.”

Later that day after the fires had moved to the west, Samad and her cousin tried to drive into the hills of Altadena because they wanted to know if the house was still there. Unfortunately, emergency crews said they weren’t allowing drivers up the hill but said they could do travel up by foot. Though the most immediate threat of fire in that area had passed, Samad says they decided against it because it was a mile up and a mile back. Moreover, there were still active fires nearby, and the skies were literally raining ash.

The family remained in Long Beach for about a week and only returned once power had come back on in Duarte and the Eaton Fire had been partially contained (it would not reach 100% containment until January 31). It was at this time that her cousin returned to her neighborhood to find that her house was one of two still standing on the block.

“Whether that’s a blessing or not, who really knows?” Samad muses.

The Long Process of Rebuilding

Almost a year later, Samad’s cousin and her family are still out of their home. Though they have had it cleaned and though their insurance company says that the structure is technically livable, they don’t feel comfortable moving back in. “It’s more of a mental, and maybe environmental, health issue,” Samad explains.

It’s not just their block that was decimated. Adjacent streets suffered similar damage and there are vast swathes of Altadena where one sees nothing but vacant lots populated by the occasional remnant of a foundation or stretch of orange construction fencing. In addition to feeling like a ghost town, it can be difficult to have basic needs met. The grocery store remains closed. The closest gas station burned down.

“I drove by my old church, and I didn't recognize it,” Samad says of a recent visit to her old neighborhood. “I just drove past it. It was really odd not having those physical landmarks and the memories you associated with them.”

To rebuild, Altadena needs more than just new structures. They need to restore the fabric of the community, which often starts with addressing the immediate needs of people who live in the area.

This is something with which Samad and her cousin have firsthand experience. While on an extended Facetime that first night in Long Beach, her cousin and three of her friends dreamed up the Altadena Recovery Team. By that Saturday, they had set up a donation hub where people could drop off and pick supplies, including food, water, toiletries, medicine, and even school supplies.

They then continued to set up their donation hub every week for six months after fire.

In addition to providing necessities to those affected by the fires, the Altadena Recovery Team began working with non-profit organizations and environmental groups to look for ways to sustainably rebuild Altadena and to help residents with land remediation. Though Samad had been involved with the group from the start, she had remained a volunteer based at the donation hubs rather than someone who coordinated with these other groups.

This changed when she ran into one of the founders at an event for Los Angeles Climate Week in April. Samad had known her socially for at least a decade, as she remains one of her cousin’s closest friends, and the two had worked side by side handing out supplies with the Altadena Recovery Team. However, neither had any idea what the other did professionally. (The families of those of us who do “something with green building” can certainly relate.)

After that night, she took a more formal role with the Altadena Recovery Team. As an environmental engineer, she can be an environmental consultant, but she can play the role of advocate for a city to which she still has a strong connection. Since joining, Samad has worked on numerous issues to help residents overcome the challenges of the rebuilding process, many of which are far too complicated to delve into here (insurance, environmental remediation, water infrastructure). She has also worked with local groups like Hey Climate and the Eaton Fire Collaborative to advocate for gas-free rebuilding within Altadena, which eventually led to her involvement with the Passive House Network and Passive House California.

Samad notes that those who are part of the broader climate movement are certainly interested in high-performance building, but that desire doesn’t always trickle down to residents of Altadena. “ I think that there needs to be a lot of education about what it means to build a Passive House or a high-performance building,” she says.

While residents want the benefits of buildings with higher levels of performance, it’s not something that’s within the bounds of traditional architecture, and many of the conventional architects and builders with whom they speak may not be familiar with it. Consequently, Samad believes that residents of Altadena, as well as the community of architects and builders who will ultimately help rebuild the city, will need to learn about the building standard. There will also need to be far more training among local designers and tradespeople, as well as financing for homeowners, because the will to rebuild stronger than before and the buy-in from residents is clearly there.

“It’s my community, it’s where I grew up,” she says. “I guess I always knew there was a deep love there, but to see how Altadena residents have really come together to support one another has been really great.”

• Contemporary

• Craftsman (Arts & Crafts)

• Mid-Century Modern

• Spanish Colonial Revival

According to Greg Fisher, a member of the ten-person jury and principal and founder of Greg D. Fisher, Architect, the Spanish Colonial category received the most submissions, followed by Contemporary, then Craftsman, then Mid-Century Modern. Fisher notes that there was a larger prize incentive to win in the Spanish Colonial and Craftsman styles, $2,000 instead of $1,000. “That that might have influenced the numbers a bit,” he says.

For Fisher, his two favorites included one Mid-Century Modern submission, as well as one Contemporary but unconventional design—both by PARAVANT Architects & Home Energy Services. The latter, Four Neighbors, One Lot, should have been disqualified because it “seemed to decidedly ignore the setback requirements and the aging in place requests,” according to Fisher. However, it “offered a denser solution that shared outdoor spaces in a community-oriented fashion. It also provided a very simple massing that was still very elegant. These things would all lead to it being more inherently affordable and yet still beautiful,” he says. As shown below, it recieved a Special Mention award.

Fisher’s other favorite, Indoor Sanctuary, Outdoor Connection, won first place for the Mid-Century Modern category. “This one had really elegant architecture, yet still simple, elegant graphics and a really developed solution from a Passive House,” he says. “It also had a bit of fun with the address shown in the rendering: 0.6ACH.”

Other members of the jury included:

• Dragoș Arnăutu, Passive House Institute

• Heidi Erm, Building Decarbonization Coalition

• Lisa Gralnek, iF Design

• Avideh Haghighi, ZEROHOUZ

• Megumi Hironaka, HED

• Chinmaya Misra, CHINCHIN Design and CHA:COL

• Cyril Petit, Passive House California

• DeShawn Samad, Altadena Recovery Team

• Eddy Voltaire, Design Construction & Sustainability Inc.

Samad, another member of the jury, notes that her two favorites were both submitted under the Spanish Colonial category. Her top choice, Casa Serotinosa, she thinks was beautifully designed, incorporates the Passive House components very well, and manages to integrate fire resilient landscaping into the overall design successfully. She also notes that it feels like it belongs in Altadena.

Her other favorite, The Hemp House, pushed the envelope not only in terms of fire resilient design, but also made excellent use of hemp to reduce embodied carbon.

All award recipients were announced the evening of November 4th at the AIA Los Angeles Center for Communities. A full list can be found below.

CONTEMPORARY

CRAFTSMAN

MID-CENTURY MODERN

SPANISH COLONIAL

ADDITIONAL AWARDS

Two additional awards were presented, the Students' Choice Award and Special Mention.