Six months after the Eaton Fire erupted in the Pasadena and Altadena communities, residents are still mourning the loss of their homes and a place they once called home.

For Donny Kincey, it's the absence that echoes. The leveled landscape makes the neighborhood he's known all his life in some ways feel unfamiliar.

"It's hard coming up here. It's hard seeing what used to be here. It was easier when I could actually see like burned things but now that everything is gone it really hurts," he said.

On Jan. 7, the family home that he shared with his sister was destroyed, as well as his childhood home where his parents lived just a mile away. Kincey recalled his two-car garage that used to stand on the property.

"This was all my parents' hard work," he said while looking at the empty lot.  

His grief seems to grow with every memory of the happy moments that used to fill those spaces.

"Most of my issues have been mental health issues, financially you know it's, it's crazy losing everything and having all of your finances you know like stay the same, your job is still there, your bank account is still there, it didn't burn, you know it's not like you lost everything, but you lost everything," Kincey said.

An artist and grade school teacher, Kincey put his life on the line to save his family's legacy. Two homes and four generations were raised within the homes. Altadena was one of the few where Black families could buy houses in the redlined Los Angeles of the 1950s. 

For hours he was a one-man fire company fighting to save history from an inferno. 

"Every night I think about it and it just doesn't go away. It's, I feel really guilty. You know because I didn't save. I feel like I didn't save anything," Kincey said about how often he replays what happened that night.

With each day, remorse is matched by the resolve to move past the pain, that, as the flames did, threatens to consume him.

His family is among the fortunate ones who can and will rebuild while others lack the insurance, the capital, or even the will to stay through a long, expensive recovery. 

"It's sad to think that this place will change but it will. It's never gonna look the same," he said. "Our neighbors are all gonna be different and there's no blame there. There's no, you know, hard feelings for people leaving." 

Kincey explained that he feels it is his duty to take care of the property and make sure future generations of his family are able to benefit from it all.

Even though the home is no longer physically standing, Kincey said it still feels like he's at home.