The Brief

Mona Patterson walks across the dirt lot that once was her family’s home in west Altadena.

“It's just nice seeing some of the plants that we planted are growing back,” she says, leaning down to touch the leaves of a small lemon tree. “This is our lemon tree that we had —  it was here when we moved here, and it was one of our favorite things.”

The tree — once a source for homemade lemon meringue pies and lemon bars — burned in the Eaton Fire. But to Patterson’s surprise, it’s sprouting again.

“And it's like brand new in a baby size, so that's really cute,” she says. “So hopefully we can keep this when we rebuild.”

Mona Patterson smells the leaves of the lemon tree on her family's Altadena property. It's sprouting again after burning in the Eaton Fire.

(

Erin Stone

/

LAist

)

The 22-year-old grew up here and has deep roots in the community. She, her twin sister and parents lived right around the corner from her grandparents, who bought their home in 1973 when they moved from Louisiana.

“Family living close by was one of the main reasons my parents decided to live here,” Patterson says.

The Eaton Fire took both family homes.

And as the rebuilding begins for her family and others, Patterson is collecting the stories of Altadena’s trees. For the seven months, she’s interviewed neighbors about their relationships with trees that survived — or that died in the fire or the subsequent debris removal.

Patterson recently graduated from Chapman University with a degree in journalism and environmental science. Telling these stories from her community was fitting.

“With these tree stories, I was like, ‘Oh, I bet my neighbors have something similar where they have a tree that was either part of their children's childhood or their reason why they wanted to move here,” she says.

One neighbor described a camphor tree whose boughs supported his children’s treehouse. Another, a fig tree that was the backdrop to a marriage ceremony. An oak tree, likely more than a hundred years old, also survived and now is a reminder of hope for one neighbor. Another group of trees was a morning rest stop for squawking parrots. And countless citrus trees gifted fruit to anyone walking by, reminding them to slow down, maybe talk to a neighbor for a while.

“It was just so beautiful and  I was just like, wow ... everyone has a tree story,” Patterson says.

As for Patterson’s? She describes a mulberry tree that was once in the center of their yard.

The mulberry tree and lush garden of Mona Patterson's home before it burned down in the Eaton Fire.

(

Courtesy Mona Patterson

)

The tree shaded everyone who entered their home and was a fixture of Patterson’s childhood.

“It wasn't too crazy big, so we put little steps on it, and we eventually put tire swings,” Patterson says. “As we were growing up, we would climb along its branches, swing on the branches.”

Patterson and her twin sister would build little fairy houses, nestling them in the tree's roots.

“And then after the fire, one of the main things when we came here was like, ‘Oh, is our tree gone? How is our tree?” Patterson says. “And it was burned.”

The family asked the Army Corps to leave the stump and a log from the trunk that still has nails sticking out of it. That’s where, before the fire, there were wooden planks that Patterson and her sister used for climbing.

The Pattersons asked the Army Corps to save some of the remains of their mulberry tree so they can turn it into a piece of furniture or art to remember the beloved tree by.

(

Erin Stone

/

LAist

)

The family plans to turn the log into a side table, or maybe an art piece, to honor the mulberry.

“It just really connected us to our home, to our yard and to nature in a different way,” Patterson says.

Although Patterson’s former home is still an empty dirt lot, every day, life seems to be returning.

Blueberry bushes have popped up. California natives that Patterson’s mother planted are growing back, once again enticing the hummingbirds and bees.

“It's definitely healing,” Patterson says, stopping to rub the lemon tree’s leaves and release the citrusy scent. It’s a comfort — and encouragement — she says, “seeing the land go through the same type of loss that you go through and how resilient it is.”

A native mallow blooms on the Patterson's property in west Altadena in early September 2025.

(

Erin Stone

/

LAist

)

Altadena tree stories

Editor's note: These are some of the stories Patterson collected from her neighbors, lightly edited for length and style.

Jeff, Palm Street

Jeff, 47, of Altadena built his childhood dream treehouse in the large camphor tree that once towered over his backyard. He shared his family's story with Mona Patterson and gave permission to LAist to publish it.

(

Courtesy Mona Patterson

)

When I was a boy, the very first tree I learned to climb was the big camphor tree in my grandma’s front yard. And when I was a grown man shopping for a house to start a family in with my wife, we found a house with a giant camphor tree, just like my grandma’s camphor tree from my youth.

It was one of the driving reasons that pushed us to choose that house to buy and start a family in. During the COVID lockdowns, we couldn’t leave the house much, so I used the time to build a tree house in that tree. Supposedly it was for my kids, but secretly it was the dream tree house that I always had wanted ever since my boyhood.

My heart is broken. It feels like a piece of our world has been amputated. My tree house is ash, and the giant camphor tree I loved so much is dead.

Suzanne, West Altadena Drive

Hercules survived the Eaton fire.

(

Courtesy Mona Patterson

)

Hercules came from Roger's Gardens down in Newport Beach. He was in a 5-gallon pot, cost $20 and looked prehistoric with a stout, textured trunk and thick, sharp, angled leaves. Hercules did not like being in the 5-gallon pot, and he made his unhappiness very clear by pushing giant roots out through the holes in the bottom of the pot.

Upon further research, I learned that Hercules is a man-made hybrid, aloe barberae crossed with aloe dichotoma. The hybridizers thought this would create a smaller more compact aloe tree, but instead it created a monster that grows faster and larger than any other aloe tree.

I wanted to take it out, but my partner wouldn't have it. He loved Hercules already and was thrilled by the prospects of having a gigantic Frankenstein aloe tree. So Hercules stayed and made his presence known.

Hercules was one of the first things I thought about when I realized our house might be gone. I can't imagine the yard without him.

On the morning of Jan. 8, Hercules was still standing — strong and tall, like a sentinel — with no visible damage. Now about 25 feet high, he provides shelter for house finches and the perfect lookout tower for mockingbirds.

He is resilient and strong, and when I feel like giving up, he reminds me to stand tall and keep moving forward.

Lily, Porter Avenue

The cedar trees were an integral part of the house for my family. The trees were so tall and their long branches so sprawling that looking out the second-story windows, where my bedroom was as a teen, felt like peering out of a tree house.

On windy nights their branches tickled the house, and several times one broke off, falling with a terrifying, thunderous crack.

The cedar trees hugged the house, seemed to wrap their arms around it.

They have no house to hug or protect anymore — instead it feels like they are the house now.

When we have gone to the property, we inevitably find ourselves sitting below their branches, enjoying the small sliver of home they hold. The fact that they still stand feels deeply reassuring to all of us and imagining them still there standing sentinel for many years to come is a comforting image. Our family won't be there anymore, but they will, and they will hold our memories and tie our legacy to that land. 

Lauren, Crest Drive

An oak tree, likely more than 100 years old, that survived the Eaton Fire. A 22-year-old Altadenan named Lauren shared the photo with Patterson for her tree story.

(

Courtesy Mona Patterson

)

The trees meant a lot to my family. They were home to so many critters, birds, squirrels, even the occasional bobcat. They provided my family shade in the hot L.A. summers.

Growing up, my brother and I spent many days climbing in them and swinging on the swings my dad built us.

In later years, I would set up my hammock using the trees and read books under them.

The trees were part of what made our house a home.

While our home did not survive, our beautiful oak trees did. We estimate the trees are over 100 years old and were there even before our house was built. [Their survival] gives us hope and strength for the unknown future.

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

Since 1977, Richard Santillan has been to every Opening Day game at Dodger Stadium. 

“The tradition goes from my father, to me, to my children and grandchildren. Some of my best memories are with my father and children here at Dodger Stadium,” Santillan told The LA Local, smiling under the shade of palm trees near the entrance to the ballpark Wednesday morning. He was there to protest the team less than 24 hours before Opening Day.

Santillan, like countless other loyal Dodgers fans, is grappling with his fan identity over the team’s decision to accept an invitation to the White House and owner Mark Walter’s ties to ICE detention facilities.

More than 30 people joined Santillan on Wednesday morning for a press conference held near 1000 Vin Scully Drive to convey a message directly to the team. 

“We are demanding the Dodgers stop participating in funding of inhumane treatment of families and do not go to the White House to celebrate with the criminal in chief,” Evelyn Escatiola told the crowd. “Together, we have the power to make a change.”

Escatiola, a former dean of East Los Angeles College and longtime community organizer, urged fans to flex their economic power by “letting the Dodgers know that we do not support repression.”

Jorge “Coqui” Rodriguez, a lifelong Dodgers fan, spoke to the crowd and called on Dodgers ownership to divest from immigration detention centers owned and operated by GEO Group and CoreCivic.

Jorge Coqui H Rodriguez speaks at a press conference outside Dodger Stadium on March 25, 2026, to demand the Dodgers not to visit the White House following their 2025 World Series win.

(

J.W. Hendricks

/

The LA Local

)

In a phone interview a day before the protest, Rodriguez told The LA Local he did not want the Dodgers using his “cheve” or beer money to fund detention centers. 

“They can’t take our parking money, our cacahuate money, our cheve money, our Dodger Dog money and invest those funds into corporations that are imprisoning people. It’s wrong,” Rodriguez said. 

Rodriguez considers the Dodgers one of the most racially diverse teams and said the players need to support fans at a time when heightened immigration enforcement has become more common across L.A.

The team’s 2025’s visit to the White House drew ire from the largely Latino fan base, citing the Trump administration’s ongoing attacks on immigrants. 

In June, the team came under further scrutiny when rumors swirled online that federal immigration agents were using the stadium’s parking, which immigration authorities later denied in statements posted on social media accounts.

The team again came under fire after not releasing a statement on the impacts of ICE raids on its mostly Latino fan base at the height of immigration enforcement last summer. The team later agreed to invest $1 million to support families affected by immigration enforcement.

When he learned the Dodgers were pledging only $1 million to families in need, Rodriguez called the amount a  “slap in the face.” 

“These guys just bought the Lakers for billions of dollars and they give a million dollars to fight for legal services? That’s a joke,” Rodriguez said. “They need to have a moral backbone and not be investing in those companies.”

According to reporting from the Los Angeles Times, former Dodgers pitcher Clayton Kershawsaid last week that he is looking forward to the trip.

“I went when President [Joe] Biden was in office. I’m going to go when President [Donald] Trump is in office,” Kershaw said. “To me, it’s just about getting to go to the White House. You don’t get that opportunity every day, so I’m excited to go.”

The Dodgers have yet to announce when their planned visit will take place. 

Santillan sometimes laments his decision to give up his season tickets in protest of the team. His connection to the stadium and the memories he has made there with family and friends will last a lifetime, he said. On Thursday, he will uphold his tradition and be there for the first pitch of the season, but with a heavy heart.

“It’s a family tradition, but the Dodgers have a lot of work to do,” he said.

A local favorite mom-and-pop bookshop in Eagle Rock is facing displacement due to a steep rent hike. The owners say theirs is just one of several small businesses along Eagle Rock Boulevard struggling to keep up with lease increases.

Over the past 19 years, many in the neighborhood have come to love READ Books for its eclectic collection of used titles and shop dog Florence.

Co-owner Jeremy Kaplan said it’s been a delight to grow with the community over the years.

“Like seeing kids come back in, who were in grade school and now they’re in college,” Kaplan said.

But the building where Kaplan and wife Debbie rent was recently sold, and the rent increased by more than 130% to $2,805 a month, Kaplan said. He told LAist it was an increase his small business simply could not absorb.

Kaplan said he originally was given 30 days notice of the rent increase. After some research, assistance from Councilmember Ysabel Jurado’s office and some pro-bono legal help, Kaplan said he pushed back and got the 90-day notice he’s afforded by state law.

California Senate Bill 1103 requires landlords to give businesses with five or less employees 90 days’ notice for rent increases exceeding 10%, among other protections.

Systems Real Estate, the property management company, did not immediately respond to LAist’s request for comment.

What can small businesses do? 

Nadia Segura, directing attorney of the Small Business Program at pro bono legal aid non-profit Bet Tzedek said California law does not currently allow for rent control for commercial tenancies.

Outside of the protections under SB 1103, Segura said small businesses like READ Books don’t have much other recourse. And even then, commercial landlords are not required to inform their tenants of their protections under the law.

“There’s still a lot of people that don’t know about SB 1103. And then it’s very sad that they tell them they have these rent increases and within a month they have to leave,” Segura said.

She said her group is seeing steep rent hikes like this for commercial tenants across the city.

“We are seeing this even more with the World Cup coming up, the Olympics coming up. And I will say it was very sad to see that also after the wildfires,” Segura said.

Part of Bet Tzedek’s ongoing work is to advocate for small businesses, working with landlords who are increasing rents to see if they are willing to give business owners longer leases that lock in rents.

What’s next 

After READ Books posted about their situation on social media, commenters chimed in to express their outrage and love for the little shop.

While he looks for a new spot, Kaplan says he’s forming a coalition of local businesses and activist groups to see what can be done to help other small businesses facing similar displacement. He wants to address the displacement issue for businesses like his, which have made Eagle Rock the distinctive neighborhood that it is today.

Owl Talk, a longtime Eagle Rock staple selling clothing and accessories in a unit in the same building as READ Books, is facing a “more than double” rent increase, according to a post on their Instagram account.

Kaplan said he’s been in touch with the office of state Assemblywoman Jessica Caloza and wants to explore the possibility of introducing legislation to set up protections for small businesses like his, including rent-control measures or a vacancy tax for landlords. Kaplan said he also reached out to the office of state Sen. Maria Durazo.

By his count, Kaplan said there are about a dozen businesses within surrounding blocks that are at risk of closing their doors or have shuttered due to rent increases or other struggles.

When READ Books was founded during the Great Recession, Kaplan said he knew it was a longshot to open a bookstore at the same time so many were struggling to stay in business.

“It was kind of interesting to be doing something that neighborhoods needed. That was important to me growing up, that was important to my children, that was important to my wife growing up,” Kaplan said.

“And then somebody comes in and says, ‘We’re gonna over double your rent.”

Topline:

Frozen budget: Most of the city’s Bureau of Street Lighting budget comes from an assessment that people who own property illuminated by lights pay on their county property tax bill. The amount people pay depends on the kind of property they own and how much they benefit from lighting. A typical single-family home currently pays $53 annually, and in total, the assessments bring in about $45 million annually for the city to repair and maintain streetlights. Changing the amount the Bureau of Street Lighting gets from the assessment requires a vote among property owners who benefit from the lights.

Ballots: L.A. City Council’s vote gives city staff the green light to prepare and send out those ballots. Miguel Sangalang, who oversees the bureau, said at a committee meeting earlier this month that he expects to send out ballots by April 17. Notices about the ballots will be sent out prior to the ballots themselves.

Near unanimous vote: L.A. City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez was the only “No” vote Tuesday, saying she wanted to see a more current strategic plan for the bureau. Sangalang said the bureau developed a plan in 2022 that lays out how money will be spent. Councilmember Imelda Padilla was absent for the vote.

Vote count: Votes will be weighted according to the assessment amount. Basically, the more you’re asked to pay yearly to maintain streetlights, the more your vote will count. Ballots received before June 2 will be tabulated by the L.A. City Clerk.

How much more money: According to a report, the amount needed in assessments from property owners to meet the repair and maintenance needs of the city’s streetlighting in the next fiscal year is nearly $112 million.

Use of the money: Sangalang said at a March 11 committee meeting that the extra funds would be used to double the number of staff to handle repairs and procure solar streetlights, which don’t face the threat of copper wire theft. That would all potentially reduce the time it takes to repair simple fixes down to a week. Currently, city residents wait for months to see broken streetlights repaired. The assessment would come with a three-year auditing mechanism.