In the face of raging infernos, California has turned to an unconventional yet vital group of firefighters. More than 1,100 incarcerated individuals have been deployed from over 20 minimum-security fire camps to combat the deadly blazes threatening Los Angeles. These incarcerated firefighters work grueling 24-hour shifts under dangerous conditions, earning up to $34.24 a day. The program, despite offering a critical service, has come under international scrutiny for its reliance on prison labor and the minimal compensation provided to these brave individuals.
The California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) has been at the forefront of this initiative. Since last week, the department has been coordinating efforts to tackle the Los Angeles infernos, which have become some of the deadliest and most destructive in the region's history. The CDCR recently permitted several incarcerated firefighters to share their experiences with the Guardian, shedding light on the challenges and aspirations that accompany their unique roles.
"The majority of people [in prison] want to do well, they want to do good. We make mistakes and we get an opportunity to change that," said Joseph McKinney, reflecting on the opportunities presented by the firefighting program.
In 2020, state lawmakers recognized the potential for rehabilitation offered by such programs and passed legislation allowing former fire camp members to petition for their records to be expunged. This move aims to ease their transition back into society and open doors to potential employment opportunities. Although convictions do not automatically bar employment with Cal Fire, targeted programs further assist incarcerated individuals in transitioning to careers post-incarceration.
One such individual is Edmond Richardson, a 38-year-old former fire camp member who left prison with approximately $2,500 in savings after a year of firefighting. Richardson's experiences include frontline work at nearly 20 blazes, showcasing both his commitment and the financial impact of his efforts. The CDCR also ensures that workers' compensation forms are filled out for those injured in the line of duty, providing a safety net for these brave individuals.
Sal Almanza, another incarcerated firefighter, recounted his harrowing experiences battling the LA blazes.
"I’ve never seen anything burn so quick," Almanza stated, describing the rapid spread of flames.
Despite the danger, he remains committed to his role, drawing strength from his determination to return to his life outside prison.
"I accomplish the task by remembering I have a life to get back to and that he’s waiting for me," Almanza shared.
Almanza also expressed hope that this opportunity would lead to skill development and future employment, emphasizing the need for dignity and proper compensation for their work.
"Just because I volunteer for this, doesn’t mean you can put my life at risk," Almanza explained. "One way to rectify that is to say we’re going to give you this skillset to do the job effectively, treat you with dignity, we’re going to pay you – and we’ll make sure we provide you employment in this field if you want it."
Despite the challenges faced by these incarcerated firefighters, many find purpose and camaraderie in their work. Joseph McKinney spoke of the profound impact this opportunity has had on him.
"To be recognized for what we’re doing is amazing. I’ve never felt such love, and I’ll remember this for the rest of my life," McKinney expressed.
The program's reliance on prison labor has sparked debate, particularly following a November ballot where California voters rejected a proposition to ban involuntary servitude in prison. The proposal sought to prohibit forced labor behind bars and could have paved the way for wage increases for incarcerated workers. Critics argue that while firefighting offers valuable experience, it should not come at the expense of fair compensation and safety.
Najee Franklin, another participant in the program, acknowledged both the benefits and drawbacks of his role.
"It’s a great service, and I don’t mind doing it, but I’m not a manual labor guy," Franklin admitted. "It teaches me great work ethic and how to communicate with a team, and when things get rough, to push through."
These sentiments highlight the dual nature of the program—it offers valuable life skills and a sense of purpose but raises ethical questions about compensation and safety.