
On a sunlit campus carrying the emotional weight of loss, students at John Muir High School gathered Wednesday for what school leaders intentionally avoided calling a memorial.
Instead, the one-year anniversary of the Eaton Fire was marked with a community resource fair — one of several events held across Pasadena and Altadena that day — offering school supplies, handmade gifts, food, and, perhaps most importantly, a chance to reconnect.
“This was really more about the community,” said Principal Dr. Lawton Gray, noting that many students at Muir were directly affected by the fire.
Hundreds of students were displaced, their lives disrupted by evacuations, temporary housing, and loss. Rather than speeches, the campus front lawn was filled with booths and laughter and informal conversations. “We wanted to give the kids a chance to get together, see people they know, and just be together,” Gray said.
The event was organized with help from retired art teacher Cynthia Lake, the school’s alumni association, and Side Street Projects. Lake, who taught at Muir for three decades before retiring, returned with a years-long project rooted in recovery: handmade ceramic bowls offered to anyone who lost a home or way of life in the fire.
“They’re going to need to eat,” Lake said simply, explaining the idea behind the bowls. Many students helped create them. All she asked in return was a name, an email address, and a photograph — a quiet act of documentation and connection.
Dr. Elizabeth Blanco, superintendent of the Pasadena Unified School District, described the day as part of a much longer process.
“This is just the beginning of a very long journey,” she said. “People are going to walk along with them for however many years it takes to recover.”
For students like Fletcher Paddock, a Muir student whose family evacuated together with little more than go-bags, the return to school after the fire was difficult but supported. He recalled how quickly the community responded, often with the smallest necessities. “If I asked for jackets, I’d end up with too many jackets,” he said. “Same with socks and blankets.”
Naira Wadley, a member of the 2026 Rose Court, said, “This was the happiest year of my life, and the saddest.” She was scheduled to play a soccer game that afternoon, one that she had looked forward to, but it was cancelled due to the high winds. She would find herself later that evening gathering in the family car, speeding away from the flames to leave her Pine Street home forever.
Music punctuated the afternoon as the John Muir choir performed “Fly Away Home,” an alumni song chosen for its message of belonging. Home, the lyrics suggested, is not always a place — sometimes it is a community still learning how to rebuild itself together.











