Jennie Marie Mahalick Petrini has a big decision on her hands.
For Petrini, the night of Jan. 7 brought total loss. The Eaton fire decimated her quaint home in the northwest corner of Altadena near Jane’s Village, reducing her sanctuary to a pile of rubble.
“I have a spiritual connection to that house,” she said. “It was the only place I felt safe.”
Now, like thousands of others, she’s crunching the numbers on whether to sell her burned lot and move on, or stay and rebuild.
For many, it makes more sense to sell. Experts estimate a rebuild could take years, and navigating contractors, inspectors and governmental red tape, all while recovering from a traumatic incident, just isn’t worth the effort. It’s the reason why lots are hitting the market daily.
But for Petrini — for reasons both emotional and financial, a melding of head and heart — staying is the only realistic option.
Breaking down the math
Petrini, 47, bought her Altadena home, where she lived with her partner and two daughters, for $705,000 in 2019. Built in 1925, it’s 1,352 square feet with three bedrooms and two bathrooms on a thin lot of just over 5,300 square feet.
She was able to refinance her loan during the pandemic, lowering the interest rate to 2.75% on a $450,000 mortgage. The move brought her mortgage payments from $3,600 down to $3,000 — a relative steal, and only slightly more than the $2,800 rent she has been paying for a Tujunga apartment since the fire.
The property was insured by Farmers, which sprang into action following the fire, sending the first of her payouts on Jan. 8.
Petrini received $380,000 for the dwelling, an extra 20% for extended damage equating to roughly $70,000, and $200,000 for personal property. She used the $200,000 payout to cover living expenses such as a second car, medical bills and a bit of savings, and also tucked away $50,000 to use toward rebuilding.
She estimates that even the thriftiest rebuild will cost around $700,000, and right now, she can cover around $500,000: the $380,000 and $70,000 insurance payouts, plus $50,000 of the personal property payout she stashed for a rebuild.
To cover the extra $200,000, she received a Small Business Administration loan up to $500,000 with an interest rate of 2.65%, which can be used for property renovations. Once she starts pulling from that loan, she estimates she’ll pay around $1,000 per month, which, combined with her $3,000 mortgage, totals roughly $4,000.
It’s a hefty number, but still far cheaper than selling and starting over.
“I could sell the lot for $500,000, take my insurance payout and buy something new, but my house was valued at $1.2 million,” she said. “So even if I put $500,000 down on a new house, to get something similar, I’d have a $700,000 mortgage with a much higher interest rate.”
As it stands, if she cashed out, she’d be renting for the foreseeable future in the midst of a housing crisis where rents rise and some landlords take advantage of tenants, especially in times of crisis. Price gouging skyrocketed as thousands flooded the rental market in January, leading to bidding wars for subaverage homes. To secure her Tujunga rental, Petrini, through her insurance, had to pay 18 months of rent up front — a total of more than $50,000.
“It sounds so lucrative: sell the land, pay off my mortgage and be debt-free. But then my children wouldn’t have a home,” she said.
Bigger than money
Jennie Marie Mahalick Petrini, from left, and her daughters, Marli Petrini, 19, and Camille Petrini, 12, look over the lot where their home stood before the Altadena fire. It was the first time the daughters had looked through the lot.
(Robert Hanashiro / For The Times)
While the math makes sense, Petrini has bigger reasons for staying: she’s emotionally tied to the lot, the community and the people within it.
Altadena is a safe haven for her. She bought her home after escaping a domestic violence situation in 2017. The seller had higher offers, but ended up selling to Petrini after she wrote a letter explaining her circumstances.
It’s also the place where she got sober after abusing stimulants to stay awake and keep things running as a single mom.
“When I was getting sober, I’d go for walks five times a day through the neighborhood,” she said. The trees, the animals, the flowers, the variety of houses. It was — is — a special place.”
Petrini once worked as the executive director of operations at Occidental College, but took a break in 2023 to focus on her children and her health. She and a daughter both have Type 1 diabetes.
Petrini hasn’t been employed since, and her parents helped her pay the mortgage before the fire. She acknowledges that she’s operating from a place of privilege, but said accepting help is crucial when recovering from something.
“Even being unemployed, I just knew I’d be okay here,” she said. “I would trade potting soil to a man who owned a vegan restaurant in exchange for food. You always get what you need here.”
Getting crafty
For Petrini, speed is the name of the game. Experts estimate rebuilding could take somewhere between three and five years or even longer, but she’s hoping to break ground in August and finish by next summer.
In addition to nonprofits, she’s also reaching out to appliances manufacturers and construction companies. The goal is to stitch together a house with whatever’s cheap — or even better, free. She recently received 2,500 square feet of siding from Modern Mill.
“I’m not looking for a custom-built mansion, but I also don’t want an IKEA showroom box house,” she said. “My house was 100 years old, and I want to rebuild something with character.”
To help with costs, she’s also hoping to use Senate Bill 9 to split her lot in half. She’d then sell the other half of the property to her contractor, a friend, for a friendly price of $250,000.
Jennie Marie Mahalick Petrini is diving into the complicated process of staying in Altadena and rebuilding her property.
(Robert Hanashiro / For The Times)
To speed up the process, she’s opting for a “like-for-like” rebuild — structures that mirror whatever they’re replacing. For such projects, L.A. County is expediting permitting timelines to speed up fire recovery.
So Petrini’s new house will be the exact same size as the old one: 1,352 square feet with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. She submitted plans in early June and expects to get approval by the end of the month.
For the design, she turned to Altadena Collective, an organization collaborating with the Foothill Catalog Foundation that’s helping fire victims in Jane’s Village rebuild the English Cottage-style homes for which the neighborhood is known. For customized architectural plans, project management and structural engineering, Petrini paid them $33,000 — roughly half of what she would’ve paid someone else, she said.
“I’m going with whatever’s quickest and most efficient. If we run out of money, who needs drywall,” she said. “I want my house to be the first one rebuilt.”
It doesn’t have to be perfect. Petrini and her daughters have been compiling vision boards of their dream kitchen and bathrooms, but she knows sacrifices will be made.
“It’s gonna be a scavenger hunt to get this done. We’re gonna use any material we can find,” she said. “But it’ll have a story. Just like Altadena.”
