A home that was the key to generational wealth in an enclave that served as an oasis for many Black families, was lost in one of the L.A. fires. Weaving life back is an uphill climb. They need your help.
Kyoko Canizales went to sleep at 8 pm on Tuesday, January 7. By eight o’clock the next morning, the family home in Altadena had burned down to the studs. A scorched chimney and a metal security door were the only evidence that a structure stood there before being engulfed in flames.
Like thousands in the diverse enclave sitting at the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains, Canizales and her mother, Kimberly Harris, who resided in the heirloom real estate, lost everything. The heart of their generational wealth and lifetimes of memories were singed in less than twelve hours.
Days later, between fielding calls and looking for nearby housing, Canizales and Harris work through grief and trauma. Even though Canizales is a clinical therapist, the distress is chasmic. “I saw my mom’s face change [when we drove up to the house after the fire]. I saw her hurt and just the pain.”
Canizales recorded their inspection of what was left of the property. “I felt so bad, I felt so helpless. That home meant a lot to our family and I told my mom that this was the one thing that she had in her name … and it was a symbol of my grandmother’s resilience and our legacy.”
In a crisis, there is little time to collect your thoughts. Already Canizales has to appeal the rejection of a home insurance claim while checking to see if FEMA, the federal agency for emergency disasters, has responded. Because insurance prices recently increased in the region, absent in the policy was a provision for housing during the disaster.
“Not many places want to insure homes in Altadena … because our homes are in a fire-risk area,” explains Canizales. A FireLine score is given to residences by insurance companies to assess their risk, thus dictating premiums. Canizales says their West Altadena dwelling was near the FireLine map used by insurers.
A possible sign of relief, AirBnb committed to providing housing for 25,000 people impacted by the multi-fire disaster in Los Angeles County. However, the requests for housing are substantial. So, she has been waitlisted. If AirBnB falls through or takes too long, Canizales and her mother are contemplating a temporary relocation to family living in Nacogdoches, a town in East Texas.
Though foreign to Canizales, Nacogdoches is where her grandmother, at 19, migrated from in the 1950s to start anew in Los Angeles. While Harris sees the time away as a generous alternative, Canizales has her condo to oversee, and any business regarding the burnt house to manage; so leaving will be difficult.
As the mother and daughter weave pieces of their lives back together in an uphill recovery, Canizales thinks about her beloved childhood sanctuary. Quintine Wingo, the family’s matriarch, purchased the house in the 1970s. A working class woman who was a part of the Great Migration, Wingo nabbed the opportunity to live in Altadena, a Los Angeles suburb known for its bucolic feel, but still in close proximity to the city.
Right photo: Three generations of women who lived in Altadena. An old photo of grandmother Quintine Wingo (l); mother, Kimberly Harris (r); and granddaughter, Kyoko Canizales (f). Right photo: Kyoko Canizales with mother Kimberly Harris. Photo credit: Kyoko CanizalesThe Great Migration marked decades when Southern Blacks moved to cities in the Midwest, North and West to escape white domestic terrorism and hostile, racist institutions. For those living west of the Mississippi river, California became a popular migratory destination.
Established in Los Angeles after years of hard work and savings, Wingo’s pride was in home ownership. Once settled in Altadena, she raised her daughter Kimberly, who subsequently reared Kyoko. When Wingo passed, it went to Harris. Now at 32, Canizales looks forward to growing a family in the modest-sized estate.
For three generations, the domicile was both a bedrock and the most significant asset that situated the family into middle-class status. Wingo’s single purchase in a part of the county deemed as affluent, secured the family’s financial stability. The equity built from a home that probably cost around $60,000 at purchase, increased dramatically over the years. Just weeks before what is called the “Eaton Fire,” the house next door, which unfortunately also burned down, sold for $1.3 million. With the family estate gone, the women’s financial security hangs in the balance.
When the fire came
The day of the fire resembled many previous brush fire warnings. High winds and dry weather conditions caused a small blaze that increased in size, but it was far enough away to stave off worry.
Canizales, who has a condo in LaVerne that she rents out mostly through AirBnb, had been regularly checking the news. She wanted to see if any firestorm was near the family’s Altadena residence where her mom lived and was dog-sitting her pitbull. Her guess was that it would fall short because no fire since she lived there had ever made it to the area.
Through frequent updates, Canizales prepared for a long-term renter who plans to move in this week. The income came just in time. Recently, the mental health professional lost her job because she had yet to pass the boards. Her plan was to study for several months then retake the exam while she lived at the family’s Altadena abode.
By evening, the major fire was in Pacific Palisades, a Los Angeles neighborhood about 37 miles away. Canizales watched how a brush fire there bloomed into a raging inferno. When she went to sleep, all eyes were on the Palisades, so she thought.
By midnight, her mother called to inform her daughter that officials issued an evacuation alert due to “red flag conditions.” The code indicated strong winds paired with increasing fires created an unsafe environment for residents. Harris, a 70-year-old retiree, asked her daughter what she should take with her. Canizales instructed her to pack important documents.
Anxiously waiting for her mother who recently began to experience health issues, Harris arrived at her daughter’s condo at about 2:30 a.m. Both of them were frazzled, but went to sleep.
Several hours later, Canizales looked at the Ring camera app for details of the environmental calamity in real time. Reading neighbors’ texts, she was shocked to learn that it was near her home. She began to worry. “I started to see [reports from neighbors saying] this block is gone, this block is gone,” a shaken Canizales retold Ark Republic.
When the reports were within a short distance from her home, people began saying, “‘my home is gone.’” A creeping dread of what to expect came over Canizales and Harris, but they had to see for themselves.
Later that morning, Harris called a neighboring friend before driving to the home for more necessities, but they were told that they were pretty sure it had burned down. They drove there anyway. It was worse than expected. All they saw was the chimney and seared trees still standing.
For Harris, the biggest regret was leaving the photos of three generations of women who held together a family unit while loving each other fiercely. Over the next several months, it will be their love and resilience that serves as a potent balm in rebuilding.
Canizales has set up a GoFundMe account for those who would like to donate to their fundraising efforts. An immediate need are suitcases so they can move easily. They are currently awaiting a 16-day voucher for housing or AirBnb.
“When the Fire Came” series follows the January 2025 fires in Los Angeles County. We will focus on communities who received limited coverage, and communities of color. Our focus will be Altadena and Pasadena, from the fires to working on recovery.
