When my wife and I moved back to the Los Angeles area in 2000, we bought a three-bedroom Spanish-style home two blocks south of the Altadena/Pasadena border, and just a few blocks from the neighborhoods lost in the Eaton fire this past January. It was a special home for us: our first child was born there, and we loved starting our family in such a racially and socio-economically diverse residential community.
The Eaton fire ripped through Altadena and destroyed many of the homes and blocks in that neighborhood. Although the homes can eventually be rebuilt, the larger threat is to the rich diversity of the community—a diversity that emerged from decades of racial animus and discriminatory housing policies. Rebuilding will be difficult, but through a commitment to creative policies that foster equity, Altadena’s rich diversity can be preserved and re-emerge to increase community wealth.
Altadena’s Black population growth
In 1960, Altadena’s population was about 95 percent white and less than 4 percent Black. Within two decades, the Black population had increased to 43 percent. This dramatic growth illustrates some of the ways that discriminatory land practices and racial animus shaped Altadena’s Black community—and other Black communities throughout the country.
Before the 1960s, racially restrictive housing covenants and redlining prevented Blacks from living in Pasadena and much of Altadena. An exception was an area called the Altadena Meadows—originally settled by famed abolitionist Owen Brown, son of John Brown—which did not include restrictive housing covenants. In the mid-1960s, civil rights legislation and court cases banning racially restrictive covenants made these practices illegal, but integration proceeded slowly and unevenly.
Whereas housing discrimination persisted in much of Pasadena, unincorporated Altadena had less resistance, and Black families began buying homes there and moving in. This initial influx led to “white flight” in some Altadena neighborhoods, thus creating more opportunities for Black migration. So began Altadena’s first Black population wave.
In the mid-1960s, Pasadena was planning an extension of the 210 Freeway. Multiple plans were considered, but ultimately, well-organized white residents successfully routed the extension through a burgeoning Black neighborhood, even though this meant destroying three and a half times as many homes and displacing eight times as many people compared with the alternative route.
Shutterstock
Eventually, Blacks began moving into Pasadena, as well, but that experiment was short lived for many. In the mid-1960s, Pasadena was planning an extension of the 210 Freeway. Multiple plans were considered, but ultimately, well-organized white residents successfully routed the extension through a burgeoning Black neighborhood, even though doing so meant destroying three-and-a-half times as many homes and displacing eight times as many people, compared to the alternative route. When construction of the extension was complete, more than 2,600 residents were displaced, two-thirds of whom were people of color.
Many of Pasadena’s Black residents displaced by the freeway extension settled to the north, in Altadena, adding to its growing populace and contributing to a second phase of Black settlement.
In 1976, the U.S. Supreme Court decided Pasadena v. Spangler, which mandated that the Pasadena school district (including Altadena) desegregate its schools. The mandatory busing orders that followed caused more white flight from Altadena, making room for further Black population growth.
Toxic chemicals
A final, lesser-known factor also contributed to Altadena’s Black population growth. NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab operates at the western border of Altadena, nestled in the Hahamongna Watershed. For decades, JPL dumped jet fuel and other toxic chemicals into the soil and waterways surrounding its massive campus. The area was eventually declared a Superfund site by the Environmental Protection Agency.
As word spread about the toxic chemicals polluting the water supply in western Altadena, white residents were eager to relocate. They organized quickly to sell their homes and move out of the area—but sell to whom?
A final, lesser-known factor also contributed to Altadena’s Black population growth. NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab operates at the western border of Altadena nestled in the Hahamonga watershed. For decades, JPL had dumped jet fuel and other toxic chemicals into the soil and waterways surrounding its massive campus. The area was eventually declared a Superfund site by the Environmental Protection Agency.
Shutterstock
White residents offered seller financing to Blacks who were denied traditional bank loans because of redlining. White sellers would offer to sell the homes and carry the note to entice Black buyers.
Thus grew the Black population in Altadena (and other communities): through racially restrictive covenants, discriminatory infrastructure expansion, and white flight propelled by school integration and environmental hazards.
Black success in Altadena
Nevertheless, the malicious roots of Altadena’s Black population yielded ripe fruit. As the Black populace in Altadena grew, so did the prestige of its Black community. Altadena was home to Sidney Poitier, former Black panther party leader Leroy Eldridge Cleaver, artist Charles White, and celebrated author Octavia Butler (whose prophetic Parable of the Sower described a post-2024 community ravaged by climate change).
As impressive as the fame of Altadena’s Black residents was, the economic mobility many were able to achieve came, most notably, in terms of homeownership.
Here’s some context: today, Black homeownership rates in California are about the same as they were in the 1960s, when housing discrimination was legal. Statewide, California’s average Black homeownership rate is 37 percent (down slightly from rates in the 1960s), compared with 64 percent for white households, and a 56 percent state average for all households.
Altadena’s Black homeownership rate is an impressive 81 percent.
Altadena has also distinguished itself in terms of land justice. In 2022, Altadena became the place of the first land return to the Native American Tongva, marking the first time in almost 200 years that the Tongva people had land in Los Angeles County.
The Eaton Fire
Within three days in January 2025, the Eaton fire had spread to 14,000 acres, destroying or damaging more than 9,000 structures and killing 17 people. By comparison, the Palisades fire, which started the same day, burned about 23,000 acres (9,300 ha) and destroyed or damaged about 7,000 structures.
The damage and loss from the Eaton fire was felt disproportionately by Altadena’s Black community. Sixty-one percent of Black households in Altadena were located within the fire’s perimeter, compared to 50 percent of non-Black households. Nearly half of Black households were destroyed or sustained major damage, compared with 37 percent of non-Black households.
Furthermore, there’s reason to fear that Altadena’s rebuilding, if not properly guided, could disproportionately affect the Black community, as well. In pre-Katrina New Orleans, Black residents made up two-thirds of the populace, which totaled more than 960,000 people. Post-Katrina, New Orleans has 120,000 fewer Black residents today than it did in 2000.
Holding on and rebuilding
As the community grapples with the overwhelming task of rebuilding, opportunities arise to rebuild with purpose and intention, to make sure that the important legacy of Altadena’s diverse homeownership survives. Here are a few policies and strategies worth exploring.
It’s not yet known how many homeowners were uninsured or underinsured. Many homes had been in the same family for generations, increasing the likelihood that they may have been owned without a mortgage and, in some cases, without adequate insurance.
Government programs exist to help homeowners in disaster situations. However, public grants for homeowners who chose not to buy home insurance could reward unwanted risk-taking behavior (what policy wonks call a moral hazard). Why would anyone buy home insurance if they anticipated a chance that the government would bail them out?
An alternative solution is a “rebuild mortgage”—government use of public bonds to fund loans to underinsured homeowners to rebuild (or to provide incentives for private lenders to do the same). These rebuild mortgages would be secured by a lien on the improved property. The loan would have a below-market interest rate, and payments would be deferred until the homeowner refinanced, sold, or died; if the home were left to family after a death, the government could require a payment plan to repay the mortgage over the next 10 to 30 years.
Residential land banking
Some Altadena residents may decide not to rebuild and that they’d prefer to move to another area. This outcome may be especially common with older residents who lack the appetite for what could be a lengthy rebuilding process.
For those who don’t intend to rebuild, now is probably not the best time to sell. As Altadena re-emerges from the fire, there will be not only new houses but also new municipal infrastructure, new schools and parks, new retail and businesses. It’s a good bet that waiting and selling once the town is rebuilt could yield more than could a (literal) fire sale today. That’s fine in theory, but what about folks who need the proceeds from a sale now to live somewhere else?
One concept worth exploring is a residential land bank. Homeowners could contribute their parcels to a land bank or trust in exchange for a loan to pay for alternative housing. In four to five years, when the surrounding community has been developed and the parcels should be worth more, the parcels could be sold by the trust; the proceeds would go to repay the loan, and the original owner would be entitled to any excess. For example, a lot owner could contribute it to the land trust and receive $400,000 today. If the trust sells the property in five years for $600,000, the owner could pocket $113,000 more (after paying accruing and compounding interest at 4 percent).
Future financial wellness
Policies should encourage residents to rebuild in ways that promote ongoing cost savings and environmental benefits—for example, energy-efficient infrastructure such as solar panels, battery storage, and wiring to support alternative and cleaner energy solutions. Although some of these installations may increase the rebuild cost, they can also dramatically affect cost of ownership by reducing ongoing utility expenses.
Owners with sufficient lot sizes should consider whether it makes sense to rebuild with an accessory dwelling unit or secondary structure that could be used to generate rental income (not to mention easing L.A. County’s dramatic housing shortage).
Rather than having each individual owner hire an architect and a contractor, and buy goods and materials to rebuild, communities should consider cooperative rebuilding. Owners who share a street, block, or neighborhood could contract with a development company to rebuild multiple homes, an entire block, or a whole community. Cost savings through economies of scale could save homeowners 20 percent to 30 percent, with that money staying in owners’ pockets or funding neighborhood amenities. Each member might agree to give up a small portion of their lot to create a community park, communal pool, or club house, for example.
The Eaton fire dealt a devastating blow to the Altadena community—one built, in part, because of discriminatory housing policies and practices. Altadena’s residents are no strangers to building strength from adversity, though.
The community appears united to remain and persist. With the right combination of commitment, creative policies, and leadership, Altadena can rise from the ashes, like the mythical phoenix, and set models for how to rebuild to preserve and enhance diversity and community wealth.
George Fatheree is the founder and CEO of ORO Impact, a firm that helps companies offer employee housing benefits to improve productivity, retention, and financial wellness. He’s also the founder of the Black Land Loss Narrative Archive Project, an effort to collect, preserve, and amplify stories of Black land loss. Fatheree led the legal team responsible for the return of Bruce’s Beach, the first time in U.S. history that property was returned to a Black family.
Related Reading:
- A Brief History of Racial Zoning and How to Reverse the Lasting Effects of Housing Discrimination
- Closing the Wealth Gap
- Black Land Loss Narrative Archive Project
- Stories That Remain: George Fatheree on Changing Narratives & Fighting Black Land LossStories That Remain: George Fatheree on Changing Narratives & Fighting Black Land Loss
