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Four months after an inferno ripped through Altadena, a time capsule of rubble and the shells of gutted shops and restaurants still line the business district of North Lake Avenue. Near the top of the street, Maggie Cortez’s beloved Mexican eatery stands — one of the town’s few survivors.
She and others fear that the area could remain a wasteland while residential parts of Altadena move forward with rebuilding.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency tasked the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to clean up debris at private residences, some public buildings and places of worship — but not commercial properties.
“Commercial property debris removal is the responsibility of the property owner. Currently, USACE has no task from FEMA to execute commercial property removal,” the Army Corps said in a statement.
ECC Constructors was awarded a contract for more than $668 million to do the residential cleanup in areas affected by the Eaton fire, records show. So while those lots are being cleared with speed, most commercial property owners have been left to clear their land. And many are questioning whether they can afford to when the business outlook is so bleak, leaving swaths of the unincorporated town stuck in a toxic limbo.
Inside El Patron, music plays overhead as customers are transported to normalcy. But reminders of what happened in January aren’t far away — across the street are the remains of a pizza place and a historic church, while caution tape still clings to the trees at the neighboring park.
Cortez, 45, said customers — her “family,” whose photos adorn the walls — visit on their way to check in on their destroyed homes or to oversee remediation. But after an initial surge, business has waned. She fears for her restaurant’s survival.
Cortez lives two blocks away and knows the sight is a deterrent for potential diners, especially those still traumatized by the fire. “I can feel their pain,” she said.
Chamber of Commerce board member Larry Hammond said that there was initial confusion over whether business owners would get help in the cleanup process. Now, reopened businesses face the problem of how to attract people back as the recovery continues, while those whose businesses burned down wonder whether they can manage to reopen in an area that’s devoid of people. Swirling around all of this are questions about toxins from the properties that have not been cleared.
“The future is unclear in terms of businesses,” Hammond said. “The people that frequented the local businesses are gone.”
Supervisor Kathryn Barger, who represents Altadena, introduced a motion last month to help the area’s economic recovery through small-business loans and the approval of pop-up events and restaurants to operate in vacant lots over the next five years in an effort to bring customers back. The county announced Tuesday that businesses could apply for loans for as much as $75,000, but would need to be open to the public in order to qualify.
The federal government decided not to test the soil of L.A.’s burn areas for hazardous substances. A Times investigation found high levels of lead and other heavy metals.
Anish Saraiya, an advisor for Barger, said the supervisor has advocated for the debris cleanup to include commercial properties
Down the street from El Patron outside Webster’s Community Pharmacy, trucks carrying debris shuttle past the shop at Lake and Mendocino Street. The store and its surrounding shopping complex survived the fire, but nearby buildings burned.
Owner Meredith Miller said that although some loyal customers have returned, sales have gone down. She imagines that the scene outside doesn’t help.
“There’s only been one or two businesses that have done their own cleanup. Other than that, everything is just sitting the way it was the day of the fire. People don’t really want to see it,” Miller, 71, said. “Because it’s upsetting.”
Displaced residents living in Glassell Park, Monrovia and other neighborhoods return to Webster’s when checking on their properties and to pick up medication. Hugs are often shared between customers and Miller; tears are shed.
At the front is a donation section for people to take toys, toothpaste, sunglasses and books. And tote bags, T-shirts and hats read “Beautiful Altadena” — a phrase the shop coined years ago — and one of the community’ s new slogans: “Altadena Strong.”
The pharmacy is a 99-year-old staple in Altadena that Miller and her husband bought 15 years ago. They moved to this location a few blocks from the original site last year and are locked into a five-year lease. Their hope is that the pharmacy makes it to 100 years — and beyond.
“We don’t really want to just give up,” Miller said. “Ultimately, people will come back to the community, and they are getting prescriptions as best they can filled here … but it’s going to be years to rebuild.”
The fire has left businesses grappling with a variety of next steps. Fair Oaks Burger, for example, survived the fire and is preparing to reopen in a few weeks. The hope is that customers will return, but the owners plan to build a wall in the parking lot to hide the ruins that surround it. On Lake, the owners of Fox’s Restaurant cleared their land but are in no rush to rebuild. And less than five blocks away, Altadena Hardware is trying to find a new place in the town to reopen since the building they leased was destroyed, but possibilities are limited.
Miller believes that the clean up of homes should be a priority, but said that help is needed for the community’s shops, offices and restaurants too.
“Don’t leave us behind,” she said. “We are the businesses that you’ve been depending and relying on for years.”
The Eaton and Palisades fires likely made polluted soils worse, but soil experts say bioremediation may be an alternative to scraping, especially for gardeners.
According to 2023 data provided by Barger’s office, nearly 10,500 people lived and worked in Altadena before the fire.
Gail Casburn has lived in the area since 1989. Her house on Las Flores Drive burned down, but her beer and wine bar survived on Fair Oaks Avenue — another business district in town. She and her husband opened Altadena Ale and Wine House to serve locals, but without the community, fewer people have reason to visit. She’s sure the constant sight of crumbled buildings that line the street is a deterrent.
“There’s no doubt about it — the devastation is surreal,” she said.
The bar recently celebrated its 15th anniversary. Casburn said there was a spike in customers that day, but the place has been quieter than before. Her family’s other business — the 1881 Club for jazz farther east below the burn zone — also has seen business slow, she said.
On an overcast and drizzly Cinco de Mayo, balloons framed the entrance to El Patron as a mariachi band played. The music filled the restaurant and spilled onto the street.
Cortez had considered canceling the annual event, but her customers encouraged her to go forward. “This is hope,” they told her. “This is a miracle.”
Longtime regulars gathered; Cortez greeted each with a hug and pulled her customers — her family — from their seats to dance, delivered tequila shots and introduced them to her granddaughter, born shortly after the fire.
Outside, the aftermath of the fire was visible and the smell of ash lingered with the arrival of rain. But inside, the sight of destruction was eclipsed by celebration.
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