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A different kind of Saturday for those emerging from the Eaton Fire
On any other Saturday morning, central Altadena would come alive in its signature leisurely pace.
Early birds would be queueing up outside Cafe De Leche on North Lake for their cup of Mexi Mocha. At the Little Red Hen Coffee Shop on Fair Oaks, regulars would be sliding into the long counter for an order of buttery grits with spicy chicken.
Over on Mariposa, ever-patient staff at the Altadena Hardware would answer any question you throw at them about light bulbs, washers and bolts, this thingamajig or that.
All of those places are gone, flattened by the Eaton Fire literally overnight, their loss mourned by a community kept out by much of the blaze's perimeter by police tape and checkpoints 11 days later.
A phalanx of members from the National Guard, the L.A. County Sheriff's Department and the California Highway Patrol stand sentinel at intersections along Woodbury Road, only letting in emergency personnel, utility crews and media.
Across Woodbury, several donation centers have spontaneously sprung up to serve the Altadena residents who regularly visit the checkpoints to see if this is the day they are allowed entry to see their homes and beloved stomping grounds.
Some meander, in oversized clothes gifted by strangers, to the tables set up with everything from baby formula to medicine to dog food. Donated suitcases sitting in a corner invite them to start a new collection of belongings. Church volunteers handing out supplies offer to pray with the residents.
Law enforcement say the initial surge of Altadenans coming up to the checkpoints to get their homes has decreased. Many have evacuated to places that are too far away for daily checkups and instead rely on friends and emergency notification apps they downloaded for the first time just days ago.
About two-and-a-half miles south on Lake, hundreds of volunteers have converged in the parking lot of the Pasadena Community Job Center by mid-morning.
Some come pre-armed with rakes to clean up debris left by the windstorm and rid the streets of any potential kindle. Day laborers who use the job center lead the brigades into Altadena.
The job center doubles as a donation center, and SUV's are packed so tightly with goods the driver can't see out the rear-view mirror sidle up Lake, where volunteers, with the efficiency of an assembly line, unload cases of water bottles and hygiene kits.
No more used clothes for now, the center's coordinators plead. They've run out of space at the moment. And they've found the priorities for those displaced are shelter and food. Everything else comes later.
Across the street from the job center on Lake is an empty parking lot where city workers are handing out PPE and bottled water to residents pulling up in their cars.
The chain link fences that encloses the parking lot is lined with wooden crosses festooned with artificial flowers representing the 27 people who've died in the Eaton and Palisades fires.
Dallas artist Roberto Marquez nailed together the crosses which stand watch as he paints a mural with vibrant splashes of color that belie the devastation of the fires.
Marquez, who regularly visits national sites of tragedies to create places for people to commune, has painted the fire engines, a water hydrant, a donkey fleeing the fires, along with the enduring images of L.A. — a palm tree, mariachi musician and a movie camera. He plans to leave the mural behind for anyone who wants it when he goes home.