When Alex Ballantyne was 18, he found himself evicted from his recent adoptive family's home, unsure of where to turn next.
The next few years would bring a sense of insecurity and displacement as he stumbled through short-term shelters—sometimes crashing with friends, other times landing apartments or rooms to raise young adults aging out of the state's social safety net.
But everything changed in the summer of 2022, when Ballantine was 22 years old, when he was reunited with his biological aunt and uncle, who opened their Altadena to him.

The remains of books belonging to Alex Ballantine's grandmother lie in the ruins of her extended family's home.
(Brian van der Bruck/Los Angeles Times)
“It was the first time I felt like I was in a place where I was wanted and welcomed,” he said Former foster youth. Felt like a guest, walking on eggshells or having to prove his worth.
But with his aunt and uncle in Altadena, Ballantyne said — for the first time in his life — he truly felt at home.
However, that long-awaited sentiment has been raised once again. This month, the fast-moving Eaton Fire destroyed his family's Altadena home along with more than 9,000 other structures.
“It's not the first time I've had nothing,” Ballantyne said this week as he surveyed the rest of the house. “When I was 18, I was homeless and walked around with a Lowe's box filled with my stuff. Compared to that, it felt pretty easy, actually. … It feels like a soft landing because at least now I have family. “
Although he lost all his clothes, belongings and memorabilia, he is happy that his family made it safely. He and his aunt and uncle now stay with extended family in Santa Clarita, along with another aunt who lost her home in a fire. It was a full house, but he couldn't complain, he said.

Although Alex Ballantyne lost all his clothes, belongings and memorabilia, he is thankful his family escaped the Eaton fire alive. He and his aunt and uncle now stay with extended family in Santa Clarita.
(Brian van der Bruck/Los Angeles Times)
“I thank everyone alive,” Ballantine said.
The night the fire ignited in Eaton Canyons, three miles from his West Altadena home, Ballantine kept tabs on the flames, checking evacuation maps and watching the local news. At first, he didn't care.
But within hours, things began to change rapidly.
“About 9 o'clock, I started seeing flames now,” Ballantine said. He knew dangerous winds were expected in their area — their electricity had already been cut — and he wanted to be extra cautious because both his aunt and uncle have mobility issues. Although their neighborhood, at this point, had not been warned or ordered to evacuate, he still suggested to his aunt and uncle that they evacuate, but his uncle was worried about robbers.
He “was adamant about not leaving if we didn't,” Ballantine recalled.
So Ballantine offered to stay and watch Genesis applicationIt maps emergency alerts to ensure they can leave when ordered to do so. He prepared their pets and prepared to spend the night.
But for hours, no warnings or evacuation orders came. Around 2:30 a.m., he woke up and checked the front door, only to be greeted by smoke and a wave of panic.

Drone images of West Altadena, where residents received evacuation orders hours after the Eaton fire broke out.
(Brian van der Bruck/Los Angeles Times)
“You don't have to look east to see the fire anymore, it's creeping closer,” Ballantine said. “I'm scrolling and scrolling, trying to see if we have an exit.”
But no warning came, and His area of West Altadena would not have anyone for another hour. Delay a Main point of concern For Area Officers.
“It got to a point where the fire seemed so close, you couldn't tell there was a fire because all the smoke was blocking everything,” he said. Smoke began to fill his room, and then the whole house. He frantically looked for an update on the evacuations so he could convince his uncle that they needed to leave, but as of 3:20 a.m., there were still No warning.
Finally, a few minutes later, their neighborhood was ordered to evacuate — hours after the neighbors Evacuation warnings were issued for East Altadena .
Despite the order, his uncle hesitated because he did not see police officers or firefighters ordering people to leave. So Ballantyne made the difficult decision to leave him, knowing that he could not spare his aunt and himself.
“My eyes are burning at this point,” he said. “I had smoke in my eyes, I had smoke in my nose, it was everywhere.”
He and his aunt escaped to a Pasadena parking lot, and luckily, hours later, his uncle joined them. His car was covered in ash and the paint had melted. His white hair and clothes were singed. He told them he had a narrow escape as flames engulfed their home, when a neighbor called on his phone because they had set the house on fire.

Alex Ballantyne walks through his extended family home, which was gutted in the Eaton fire.
(Brian van der Bruck/Los Angeles Times)
“It was very close to him,” Ballantyne said. “If he had missed that phone call, if the phone call had come later, he wouldn't be here.”
This week, Ballantyne walked around what was left of the first house that truly felt like home, pointing out where her room used to be, finding pulp pages where she kept a bookshelf filled with special reads from her grandmother. He noticed the remains of his desk, a twisted bed frame.
Much of the ash debris sat on top, crushing a mangled and melted computer monitor.
“I was thinking I might find some of my parts for my computer,” he said, shaking his head. The chimney is the only part of the house still standing tall.
On the roadway, Ballantine pointed out two beech trees, now completely singed. In the backyard, the tools in his uncle's garage are unidentified. Metal posts are all over the yard fence.
Apart from lost family photos and keepsakes, Ballantyne continues to remind us that material things can change with time.
“I think my ability to change comes from being in foster care,” said Ballantyne, who has moved more times in the past two decades than most people do in a lifetime. For better or worse, she said, the experience helped her “not to make decisions or make decisions or break down in difficult situations.”
He said the setback didn't derail his plans to graduate from college, an achievement that keeps him inside A minority of former foster youth.
“I had that moment to grieve and be sad, but sometimes you have to accept it and then move on,” Ballantine said. “It's like, 'Okay, what do I do now? What's the next step? '”
She's already bought new clothes with her savings, but now she's trying to figure out if she should rent a room for her last semester at Pasadena City College. He said it is not feasible to travel from Santa Clarita every day during rush hour. A friend set it up A GoFundMe to help He's back on his feet and preparing for another potential move as he plans to transfer to a four-year university in the fall to study business.
A lot is up in the air about her family's home — her aunt said she's sorting through some insurance issues and needs them Multiple accommodations to access any transitional housing ;
Living together worked for all of them, she said. Ballantine helps around the house and cares for them when needed, and they have given him support and encouragement – and a stable home. Grevilius said he didn't realize how hard it became for him after high school, but he's glad he's back in school and continues to advocate for youth through several local nonprofits.
Grevilius, 63, said: “I think he chose a direction that really worked for him. It gave him some guidance and insight. … Al is very bright and very talented, and I want to see him succeed in life.”