How One Street in LA Went Up in Flames

Professional chef Daron Anderson always tells people he was “born in the kitchen”—quite literally. The 45-year-old was delivered by homebirth at 295 West Las Flores Drive, where he lived with his mother until this week.

On Thursday, he stepped over charred debris where his kitchen once stood in Altadena, a tight-knit neighbourhood of north-eastern Los Angeles. He was looking for his cast-iron pans in the hope they might have survived the blaze, one of several historic fires burning in the area that have killed at least 16 people, decimated multiple communities, and left thousands homeless.

Across the street—at number 296—his friend Rachel’s house also sits in ashes. The house next door—281—where he’d enjoyed family parties is gone. About three blocks away, on Devirian Place, where his girlfriend lived, some neighbours tried to fend off the roaring flames that would consume their homes with garden hoses. Now they, too, are searching for treasured items in the rubble after the fire obliterated this entire community, nestled in the shadow of the San Gabriel Mountains.

It all started on Tuesday night.

Destruction left in the wake of the Eaton Fire.

The Santa Ana winds had been fierce much of the day. Daron was in his front yard just after 6:00 PM local time trying to secure items from flying away. Across the street at 296 West Las Flores Drive, Rachel was taking down Christmas decorations, concerned about her plastic icicles and patio furniture blowing away. They exchanged worried glances. “This doesn’t look good, does it?” she remarked.

What they didn’t know was that one of the two worst wildfires in LA history had just ignited a few miles away, marking the start of a days-long nightmare that would see six blazes simultaneously threatening America’s second-largest city. The Eaton Fire that tore through Altadena has now ravaged more than 14,000 acres, destroying thousands of homes and businesses and leaving 11 dead. By the weekend, it remained only 15% contained.

In west LA, the Palisades Fire, which had started that morning, would go on to burn through more than 23,000 acres, turning much of a vibrant community to ash while claiming at least five lives.

Firefighters face overwhelming challenges while battling multiple blazes.

Daron’s next-door neighbour at house 281, Dillon Akers, was working at a donut stand in the Topanga Mall—about 40 miles away—as smoke began to fill their neighbourhood. The 20-year-old rushed back when he heard the news, only to find his corner of north-west Altadena pitch black, with family members frantically evacuating their home.

His uncle leapt over their white picket fence to save precious seconds while shoving items into the back of his car. For two frantic hours, Dillon gathered food, medicine, clothes, and toiletries, losing 30 minutes searching for his keys—blown against a fence—in the smoky chaos.

Dillon amidst the search for essential belongings.

As he rushed, Dillon comforted himself with the thought that local authorities would handle the fire roaring down the mountains towards the home he shared with his mother, grandmother, aunt, and two younger cousins. He had faced windstorms before but was unprepared for the intensity of this moment. “I was fully at a 10 on the scale of scared,” he said. He was right to be alarmed. At 12:30 AM Wednesday, he and his mother became the last to leave West Las Flores Drive—possibly the last people to escape alive. The following day, officials would announce the discovery of a neighbour’s remains just down the road.

Residents evacuate as flames threaten their homes.

Rachel and Daron evacuated the neighbourhood about two hours before Dillon. A friend insisted Rachel leave now. With her wife, toddler, five cats, and just two days of clothing, she had to say goodbye to the home they had bought only a year earlier. Daron grabbed a few cherished belongings: a guitar he had purchased at 14 with money earned from a karate film and a family painting styled like the iconic Beatles cover, Abbey Road.

As those on Las Flores Drive evacuated, Daron’s neighbours a few blocks away attempted to combat the flames.

Local residents do their best to fight back the flames.

At 417 Devirian Place, Hipolito Cisneros and his close friend and neighbour Larry Villescas, who lived across the street at home number 416, grabbed their garden hoses. The scene outside was apocalyptic. A garage was in flames, as was a car parked in front of another home. They attempted to douse their structures with water—including Sachi’s home, Daron’s girlfriend.

“The water was just repelling off. It wasn’t even penetrating or nothing,” said Hipolito, recalling the bone-dry earth and brush surrounding the homes. Despite their efforts, the hoses eventually ran dry—due to water pressure issues that would later hinder firefighting efforts across Los Angeles County amid overwhelming demand. A nearby explosion suddenly turned another home into flames. By 1:00 AM, both families were packing to leave.

Residents scramble to collect belongings before evacuating.

“We tried. We really tried,” Hipolito lamented. By 2:30 AM Wednesday morning, police blared loudspeakers, instructing everyone to evacuate immediately. Turning the corner, Larry spotted his own garage igniting in the rear-view mirror of his truck. By 3:00 AM, the street was devoid of life.

Much of Los Angeles consists of neighbourhoods like Altadena. Any given morning, people would walk through home lines to The Little Red Hen Coffee Shop for a chat, having witnessed neighbours start families—children once played in the streets, growing into adulthood. But upon returning to the area for the first time since the disaster, Daron found it unrecognisable.

Daron surveys the destruction left behind.

The big blue house marking a familiar turn was no more. All the landmarks guiding him had vanished, and as he pointed at each neighbour’s property, he gasped in disbelief that none were still standing. He snapped photos of his and Rachel’s homes, as well as the street he shared with Dillon. Outside Sachi’s home, which Larry and Hipolito attempted to save, he took videos and spoke with their families before informing Sachi of her home’s condition. “God, everything is gone,” he stammered, his voice breaking in despair.

Yet, amid the ruins, a few items endured. At his sister’s home back on West Las Flores Drive, he found multi-coloured plastic lawn ornaments somehow untouched by fire. He plucked each stake from the ground, knowing that while these decorations might seem insignificant, they could offer a glimmer of joy amidst the sorrow.

Across the street from his former house, a red-brick chimney stood alone, with a scattered pile of clay pottery around it. His hands blackened with soot, he collected what he could, despite many pieces crumbling with his touch. A scorched lemon tree stood in the lawn, some fruit still warm to the touch. “If I can get a seed, we can replant one,” he said, grabbing a handful. “It’s like a way you can start over.”