Imagine, years from now, driving north on Lake Avenue.

As you near the town re-sprouting from the Eaton fire, you are greeted by the branch of a large overhanging oak tree.

The majestic bough is shaped from impenetrable iron. Its signage beckons you to the new Altadena.

And dangling, shimmering, gently tinkling in the wind are thousands of keys. These are the keys that once opened doors to rooms full of keepsakes. That signified a return to hearth, to home, to safety.

The Eaton Fire Keychain Project (keychainproject.org) is the brainchild of the artist team of Kate Sullivan and Nancy Larrew. The two, once strangers, bonded on social media over a vision of erecting a fitting memorial.

Now all they need are keys.

“Everybody is throwing away their front door key,” Sullivan said. “But each key signifies our loss.”

Those tiny symbols of home are integral to our day-to-day lives, said Sullivan. And now, for thousands of families, they are no longer needed, relegated to the back of the junk drawer.

In the wake of the Eaton fire, as the retired set decorator moved from one rental to another with husband Ed Verreaux, she tossed various keys into the recycling bin.

But she just couldn’t part with the Altadena keys.

“Why am I holding on to these housekeys?,” Sullivan asked herself, lovingly palming them.

And then it dawned on her.

“We should save all the keys and make a sculpture,” she said. “For everything that we’ve lost.”

Sullivan began to cry.

“It’s tragic,” she said of the fire’s toll. “The keys are not needed anymore. They could make a beautiful tribute.”

It’s a project Larrew was drawn to immediately. For the keychain project website, she enlisted the help of photographer Frank Schlegel whose black-and-white photos tell the haunting story of loss in Altadena.

“She’s just got so much energy,” said Sullivan of her collaboration with Larrew. “To step up in the way she did is really something.”

The key memorial idea immediately appealed to Larrew, a multimedia artist.

“As an artist, I am attracted to things in multiples,” said Larrew. “More than 7,000 people lost their homes. The more keys we have, the more significant the piece can be.”

So far, the pair has collected only a few dozen keys from the five drop-off locations in Altadena.

Those few keys tell powerful stories.

There’s a key with a little brown and beige monkey face – maybe customized for a child. There’s a key sporting a large red, two-story house, inscribed with “Home.” And, then there’s the rusted, charred clump of keys and a padlock, still attached to an unrecognizable keychain. It’s been fused by the fire into molten glass. “Tragically beautiful” is how Larrew described the grouping.

But the pair needs to collect a lot more keys to make an impact.

And, Larrew said, it’s also important the art piece honors the 18 people who lost their lives in the Eaton fire. She and Sullivan aren’t sure how they will do that, but they want it to be impactful.

“So many people have lost so much,” said Larrew. “Their identities, all they’ve accomplished. There’s no record of it anymore.”

That was certainly the case for Sullivan and spouse Verreaux who got to enjoy their newly remodeled Altadena home for only six months before nature robbed them of memories.

Their 2,500 square-foot, Highland Avenue Spanish beauty was one of several homes that burned on Jan. 8 – the day after the fire started in Eaton Canyon.

Sullivan said she had considered the possibility of fire, but had shored up the home’s earthquake insurance coverage.

“With an earthquake, you wouldn’t have lost everything,” Sullivan said. “Instead everything’s incinerated.”

And for her, everything was a lot.

As creatives, Sullivan and Verreaux had curated quite a collection, she said. She’s a self-described lover of beauty from all over the world: artifacts, sculpture, pottery, custom framed prints.

“I was a maximist,” Sullivan said. “And, then, in a matter of a few hours, I’m a minimalist.”

All that is left are two thin Egyptian gold rings she recovered from the rubble. Everything else, she said, she’ll have to reprioritize and, perhaps, repurchase.

“We’re doing it slowly,” Sullivan said. “I have to create a home right off the bat.”

She’s trying to find balance, she said, between replacing the old life and the opportunity to start fresh.

Some things she loved – a Vera Wang clear, glass bowl, for example, are still available. She found one on Ebay. She also found an Ikea folding towel rack she loved on Facebook Marketplace. Rebuying a few things – some simple, but cherished – helped ease the pain a little and made her feel at home again, she said.

The larger task – recreating the actual Highland Avenue home – is one Sullivan and spouse Verreaux are reluctantly starting.

“It’s not like I want to jump into building a new house after I just got done doing this,” Sullivan said, adding she’s hopeful the one-stop permitting process will contrast with the year-long COVID-era one they just endured.

But, it’s not just the single home rebuilds that loom large in the community members’ consciousness.

Like many in the unincorporated township, Sullivan also bemoans the loss of gathering places and nascent businesses.

“Altadena was just starting to get so hip,” Sullivan said, “with all these young people moving in, starting up all these cool businesses.”

Now, she said, gesturing among the ruins of her and her neighbor’s homes, “Half the town is gone. It’s just so sobering.”

And just like the rebuilding of home and of the Altadena businesses, Sullivan is aware the keychain project will take time.

There’s the gathering of keys, the potential grant applications and educating the community.

Sullivan said she wants the memorial to be done really well, something that portrays strength, that is well made and executed well.

But, she and Larrew know it’s early stages and there likely will be administrative hoops to jump through.

L.A. County Supervisor Kathryn Barger’s office said no groups have approached the county about any memorial projects. The keychain project idea is an excellent one, according to spokesperson Helen Chavez.

“The Supervisor plans to ask the newly convened Community Coalition for Altadena Recovery group if there is community interest in a memorial and will work with them on a proposal,” Chavez said.

But first, Sullivan and Larrew have more key gathering to do.

When she first came up with the idea, Sullivan put the word out on social media: Save your keys, save your keys!

“Someone is not going to think about that,” Sullivan said. “But that sentiment is so real.”

Think about it, she said.

When you return from a trip – whether it’s from a faraway place or just the market – you open the front door and you’re greeted. You’re so grateful to be home … amongst your things.

“It’s home,” Sullivan said.

Sullivan and Larrew stopped by Prime Pizza to check on the key donation bucket there.

As she placed her order, Larrew recognized worker Keely Walsh whose father Joe, step-mom Erin and their dog Bob had donated their Marengo Avenue keys to the bucket.

“Who could forget ‘Bob the dog?’” said Larrew as she fished more keys from the bucket.

Walsh’s Burbank backyard is the site for her parents trailer where they’re living until they determine next steps.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what happens with the keys,” Walsh said as she served up a slice.

To learn more about the Eaton Fire Keychain Project or to find out where to donate keys, visit keychainproject.org.