Restore the Armstrongs' Lives

In 1975, fifty years ago this year, my parents, John and Judy Armstrong, bought a dilapidated house in an out-of-the way suburb of Los Angeles called Altadena. He had just left the US Air Force after faithfully serving the United States during the Vietnam War. John and Judy were proud of their new house; they peeled wallpaper, hand sanded floors on hands and knees, and together personally painted the house inch by inch. They brought their new baby, Brecken Armstrong, home from the hospital to this house on her second day of life. She grew up swinging in her baby swing in the living room while her dad dripped paint on her head, toddling down hallways, celebrating successes, and growing into a happy, healthy child there. John and Judy lived in this home for fifty years, working during the week and transforming the dilapidated old house into a home every weekend. They built a community of neighbors who became family, helping each other, supporting each other, loving each other. They spent fifty years of blood, sweat, and tears building their beautiful, almost century-old home.

When Brecken had her own baby, Gwyneth, she looked at her beautiful baby in her arms and decided that it was time to move back to Altadena to raise her own child. Buying a beautiful old 1926 Tudor three blocks from her parent’s house in 2012, she started her own process of turning a slightly run-down old house into a home filled with love, positivity, and hope. Marrying Martin Garret Armstrong in 2020, every year since has brought a new restoration project - foundation restoration, replacement of old knob-and-tube wiring with modern wiring, HVAC, etc. Once again, a second generation of Armstrongs had turned their blood, sweat, and tears into building a home for their family.

At 7 pm on Tuesday January 8th, while at work as an ER doctor, Brecken received back-to-back text messages from a friend and from her dad that a fire had broken out in Eaton Canyon. With nearly hundred mile winds buffeting the area, the danger was clear and serious. She quickly signed out her patients and drove the 45 miles home through terrifying conditions, avoiding blowing trees and debris on the freeway, to get home for evacuation procedures. No amount of pre-planning and forethought could possibly have prepared her for what was happening. It was like scenes of Armageddon from a movie come to life in her formerly quiet neighborhood. There was no electricity, so getting the three miles from the freeway was a harrowing experience as she avoided falling trees and swerving cars, blowing debris and burning embers. The only light was the tower of flames on the hillside behind her house as she pulled into the driveway to find her husband trying to wrestle two dogs and a cat into the car. Only having a few minutes to run around the house to try to grab a few necessities, she and Martin moved by the light of their iPhones while increasingly worrying evacuation warnings escalated every few moments from their phones. They filled their two cars with a scattering of momentos of their lives - artwork, Gwyn’s stuffed animals, and a few Christmas presents that had not yet been put away. What they left behind was a lifetime of art collection, books, antiques, and heirlooms that had been passed through generations. Left behind was the World War 2 Women’s Army Corps uniform from Brecken’s grandmother, the loving creations of Martin’s deceased mother, the original Beatles albums lovingly collected and preserved by her parents, the family bibles carefully passed through generations since the moment the Armstrongs landed in the US in the 1850s, the Aboriginal art and artifacts collected in the 1960s by Harrison and Margaret Mondy (Brecken’s grandparents) when they lived in Central Australia, the family silver passed through the generations, Gwyn’s childhood photos and creations, etc. As the alarms became increasingly intense and loud, the smoke got increasingly thick and choking, Brecken and Martin decided to run rather than gather anything else. So, in the end they left with little more than the clothes on their backs.

Phone communication was impossible so Brecken stopped by her parents’ house on the way down the hill to find them exhausted, panting in the living room after collecting their basic necessities. Brecken packed up their two cars with the necessities and as much as she could gather while they found the car keys and got into the car. Again, the alarms were blaring from their phones and the reality of their own mortality was bearing down upon them, so they left with little more than the clothes on their backs.

A chaotic drive ensued to safety and the whole Armstrong family, with four pets in tow, landed on the doorstep of a kind friend who offered her bed and her floor. The night was spent in fitful sleep and ardent prayer. The next morning, we woke early to the eery smoky orange light with the dusting flakes of fire “snow” that we have come to know as the second stage in the fire malestorm. Martin drove up the hill through the continued Armageddon dodging police and fire vehicles to find our home in flames, black smoke billowing through the trees choking him as he tried to get close. He could not get into my parents’ cul-de-sac as the flames were billowing from the houses at the end and the danger of imminent death was too real. He arrived back to our sanctuary to tell us the news. Both houses are burned to the ground and our neighborhood gone, almost every home decimated. And thus starts this stage of our lives as homeless professionals and affluent beggars.

We have been through tragedy and adversity before. Martin was on welfare growing up, was homeless as a teenager in Minnesota, and has begged on the streets for food. Brecken survived stage 4 cancer and a bone marrow transplant. John and Judy are both currently recovering from life-saving surgeries within the past year and are battling their own health concerns. Gwyn, though only 14 years old, had packed every corner, drawer, and closet with the sweet memories of her young life. Now the loss of all of those is hitting her with the reality that no child should experience. We know that we all have the grit, determination and character to get through this, hopefully with grace and dignity.

We are people who have dedicated our lives to trying to help others. Brecken is an ER doctor who fights death and disease daily, providing comfort and loving support to her dying patients. Martin is an engineer turned massage therapist who has offered miraculous personal transformation to his clients who are in physical pain. John and Judy are retired HR professionals who have helped countless people navigate their professional lives. In our personal lives, we have always tried to be generous with those around us when we have more than the person next to us.

Now we are in need. We have gotten amazing outpourings of love and support from friends and family across the globe for which we are eternally grateful. All are saying “what can we do to help?” Rather than figuring out how to coordinate who can give us a toothbrush and who can donate their old sweats, we need money to recreate our lives.

So, with no shame, I humbly ask for help. Whatever you can donate will be appreciated. Thank you for your consideration. We are so grateful for your thoughts and your prayers.

The Armstrong Family of Altadena

(also Annie, Bessie, Brenna, and Momma the cat)

Former Residents of Altadena, CA