WILLIAM BRANGHAM: At the start of this year, the community of Altadena, California, was among those devastated by wildfire.

Gina Clayton-Johnson is the founder of Essie Justice Group.

And she lost her home and countless family treasures.

In this Brief But Spectacular from earlier this year, she shares her reflections on loss, resilience, and rebuilding.

GINA CLAYTON-JOHNSON, Founder and Executive Director, Essie Justice Group: I always felt like Altadena was my little secret, because whenever I would tell anyone where I was from, no one knew where I was talking about.

Altadena was a place where traditionally a lot of Black folks could go and find that they could buy land because of redlining and other realities.

My parents actually bought a home there in the early 1980s.

It was a wonderful place to be from.

The Altadena Eaton Fire burned down my home, my parents' home, my kids' school, and something like 9,500 structures or more in Altadena.

And it's devastating.

The day that the fire started was a really windy day.

We got a call from the school around 3:00 saying that the power had gone out and to come pick up the kids.

At 11:00 p.m.

that night, we drove away because we decided we wanted to be somewhere with power in the morning.

We were not evacuated.

We did not receive a warning, a text message, a call.

So we went to our friend's house, and then came the news that our house had burned down.

I called my aunt and I said: "Is there any way that we can come stay with you?"

She lives in Atlanta.

During other hard moments of my life, my first phone call was my parents, but they had just lost their home.

They're in their 70s.

I have always been curious about who I come from and why I'm where I am.

Memory happens because it can attach itself to pictures and to things that we use to tell those stories.

I had my great-grandmother's plates.

Her mother's name was Cassie White (ph), and that sharecropping farm where my great-grandmother grew up, that was where Cassie White lived and worked her days.

She liked to knit.

And this was like her art.

And I had them hanging with her picture on our wall.

And that's gone.

To zoom out and to understand that this is a Black community with multiple generations of history, of artifact, the fact that that's gone is something I'm still processing.

My 5-year-old daughter said: "You know, Momma, I know how to not be sad.

If you just think about something else for a little bit, you won't be sad anymore."

My son, who is masterful at destroying everything, he said: "Momma, I'm going to fix our house."

It meant something.

Askia (ph), my daughter, she wanted -- for Christmas, she wanted this mermaid castle.

So she was fully in love with this thing.

She said: "Oh, my -- the mermaid castle is burned.

I know what I will do.

Next year, I'm going to ask Santa for another one."

It's stuff like that where I'm just like, OK, like, yes, let's go.

We can do this.

We will ask Santa for another one.

It's harder in certain ways to do all of this with these little kids.

But, in other ways, it's such a gift, because they're teaching us something.

It's burned, and also -- there's an end to that sentence that doesn't have to feel -- that can feel full of possibility.

My name is Gina Clayton-Johnson, and this is my Brief But Spectacular take on putting the pieces back together.

WILLIAM BRANGHAM: You can watch more Brief But Spectacular videos online at PBS.org/NewsHour/Brief.