PASADENA, Calif. — When Octavia's Bookshelf opened as the first and only Black-owned bookstore in Pasadena just about two years ago, the community blew wind under its wings to give owner Nikki High a fighting chance. So when it was time to show up for them in the direct aftermath of the Eaton Fire that completely devastated the community, she said she didn't hesitate.

As High assembled free care packages to help customers in Pasadena and Altadena breathe easier, she noted that it's been two years of the most amazing highs and lows. 

“I feel extraordinarily blessed," she said.

High remembers the turnout on her opening day, walking blocks up the street as hundreds of new customers waited hours to shop in her new bookstore after a tweet about the opening went viral. This marked the beginning of a new chapter that's been all but predictable, she said, except for one constant.

“I am just leaning into the community who has always lifted me up," she said.

When the state's second most destructive wildfire on record ripped through Altadena, High jumped into action.

“I started out just telling people that I had access to Wi-Fi and power, so if you needed to come and get online, you know, because there's lots of FEMA applications and insurance claims to be filed," she said.

Once again, the power of social media met the strength in unity. Donations of all kinds started pouring in — so much so that High decided to transform the store into a recovery center, replacing the books on the shelves with food, clothes, water, formula, diapers, hygiene and hair products.

High says it's been a healing experience. Although she didn't lose her home, hers is one of the only left standing in an entire neighborhood, now completely decimated and she hasn't been able to return.

But as she and her community find temporary housing, High says the needs have shifted. 

“Now that we have officially reopened as a bookstore, we are really doing a hard focus on trauma care and aftercare," she said. "So we have some really incredible programing lined up journaling workshops, somatic healing, group therapy, grief counseling."

The grief is very real for those like Ryan-Ashley Hunt, who said moving to Altadena changed her life. She would frequent Octavia's Bookshelf so often that High gave her a part-time job, but they never imagined the community service it would soon entail. 

“Being in a state of disaster where everything is chaos, and there's really almost nothing you can do about it," said Hunt. "And watching it happen to the place that sits at the core of who I am and who I have grown to know myself to be was, was really destabilizing."

Emma Holmes stopped in to find some sense of stability after driving through the devastation. 

“The school I went to is completely gone," she said. "It’s weird seeing the National Guard vehicles here, a little unsettling. And it’s kind of a ghost town."

Sadness interwoven with threads of hope and determination as Altadena looks to rebuild with the same magic and diversity High said it was known for. 

“The level of aspiration that one feels going into Altadena, I mean, 82% of all Black residents in Altadena are homeowners, which is twice the national average," High said, pointing to a sign that says "Altadena is not for sale." "This message is to let predatory land developers know that Altadena is not for sale.”

They're refusing to lose joy as they share in collective grief, turning a new page with a restored faith in humanity.