ALTADENA, Calif. — Missi and Frank Figueroa and their three children moved into their newly built house last month, 16 months after the Eaton Fire destroyed their home of 10 years. The 2,350-square-foot house with fire-resistant siding sits on the same plot where their yellow craftsman home burned on Jan. 7, 2025, when hurricane-force winds drove one of the most destructive blazes in California history through the San Gabriel Mountains.
The firestorm damaged or destroyed roughly 6,000 properties in the area northeast of Los Angeles and killed 19 people. Only about 65 other homes have been completed in Altadena since the fire, according to Los Angeles County data, leaving the neighborhood “wildly quiet,” Missi Figueroa said.
During the day, the Figueroas’ neighborhood hums with laborers and vendors selling Red Bull drinks and fried food from their cars. But at 6 p.m., when the streets had been filled with playing kids and dog-walking neighbors, it becomes a ghost town.
“It is wildly quiet,” Missi said. She recalled an acquaintance telling her, “You’re like the new pioneers of Altadena.”
The family’s path back home involved navigating insurance claims, permit delays, contractor bids and the emotional weight of losing nearly everything. On the night of the fire, Missi and Frank booked a hotel room. Frank returned before dawn to pick up their dogs, Bubbles and Guacamole. When he went back three hours later to turn the sprinklers on, the house was already burning.
Missi was in denial until Frank showed her the 40-foot flames on FaceTime. “I was like, maybe I’m just seeing the flames, but it’s not actually on fire,” Frank said.
The family lost baby photos, Missi’s grandmother’s art, the stone urn containing her late father’s ashes, a Fender bass guitar Frank got when he was 11, and his late father’s tools. Their hotel stay stretched to two months, with 14-year-old Max and 12-year-old Nacho sharing one bed and 6-year-old Lupe sleeping between Frank and Missi in the other, with the dogs at their feet. They moved in the spring to a rental in nearby La Crescenta, but the kids kept going to school in Altadena, and the family visited their lot almost daily.
“I would come and I’d sit and just cry in my car out on the street,” Missi said. “Every day for six months.”
They salvaged a clay figurine from their honeymoon in Peru, a few bricks her father had laid at the old house before he died, and a piece of concrete the family had scrawled their names in.
The couple, both nurses in their mid-40s, were determined to rebuild. Missi said she was never happier than in Altadena. Frank’s late father had talked them into buying the home shortly before he died of a stroke.
Missi said she cried every time she worked on their property-insurance claim, which involved listing lost belongings largely from memory. The inventory took months to build and reached 2,500 items, from furniture to kitchen spices. Still they forgot things, such as a $600 spare key fob for Frank’s truck.
“It feels like it never ends, just because of the little things you forget,” he said.
The Figueroas chose building plans from Altadena Collective, a group of local architects formed to help wildfire victims rebuild. It charged a flat rate of $55,000, far less than the percentage of total construction costs that architects typically charge. The couple kept close tabs on their permit applications and contacted Los Angeles County when they felt things were not moving fast enough. At one point last fall, they realized their application had been stalled for three months because a county official had sent a blank PDF document to a third-party reviewer.
“Unless you go out of your way to call,” Frank said, “you’ll be hanging in this limbo forever.”
After getting quotes from several contractors, the Figueroas worried that their $780,000 home-insurance policy might only cover half the cost of a rebuild. A friend who installs windows put them in touch with a contractor who offered to build their new house and a 700-square-foot accessory unit for $1.1 million, the lowest bid they received.
To cover the difference between their insurance payout and the build cost, the Figueroas drew down their savings, took out a $50,000 Small Business Administration loan, and benefited from a GoFundMe set up by a friend that raised more than $112,000. They are hoping their personal-property insurance will eventually make up the gap. To restrain costs, Missi and Frank sourced construction materials themselves. Friends donated tile and fixtures. Soon after President Trump announced a 25% tariff on bathroom vanities last year, they rushed to purchase theirs before the price rose.
The kids watched with anticipation as the lot transformed from ashes and rubble into a new house. After arriving home from school, Max headed to the backyard unit to bang on his drum set, Nacho went upstairs to check out his new bedroom and Lupe rode her electric three-wheeler around the driveway. Missi and Frank said they tossed and turned the first night, noticing every passing car that broke the dead silence. But the kids slept soundly.
Furnishing the place is a work in progress. It took weeks for bedroom curtains to arrive — which would have been more of a problem if they had any neighbors, the Figueroas said. Missi has been buying replicas of lost toys on eBay and knickknacks to occupy the empty spaces. On the fireplace mantel is a hot-dog candle, which matches the hot-dog vase in the kitchen.
“After the fires, you get to reinvent yourself,” Missi said.
“She made hot dogs her personality,” Frank added.
Rebuilding remains uneven in Altadena. Some families are living in RVs on their burned-out lots. L.A. County data show about 1,665 new residential units under construction in the area destroyed by the Eaton Fire, which includes areas outside Altadena. The Figueroas acknowledge it will be years before their neighborhood returns to a place they recognize. But even now, there are echoes of the old Altadena, such as a Mexican elote corn vendor who still makes his rounds despite a greatly reduced clientele.
The family hosted their first party in the new house, a sixth-birthday bash for Lupe, in mid-June. Frank barbecued ribs in the yard, his mom served birria with rice and beans, and some 50 friends and classmates showed up. Max, who has been practicing drums constantly in the extra unit, is planning a backyard show with his rock band in July.
“We had a lot of parties before,” Frank said.