“Every year I question if I’ll come back next season,” said a 35-year-old firefighter with the Forest Service. With the tempo of work unlikely to let up anytime soon, many wonder if there’s any future in the world of wildland firefighting. The demand is overwhelming crews that are already stretched thin. Blazes largely concentrated in the West have burned more than 5.6 million acres since January, and nearly 18,000 fire personnel were deployed across the country. It’s the only housing I can afford.”Īs climate change drives droughts and extreme heat across the western United States, wildfire season continues to grow in length and severity. “I’m on food stamps, and I live in a shack in someone’s backyard. Previously, he’d lived in a van without air conditioning and once suffered from heatstroke after temperatures rose above 109 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s the only housing I can afford,” said a member of an elite helitack unit with the Forest Service in Arizona who makes $15 an hour ferrying crews into fire zones via helicopter. His last day as a wildland firefighter was August 27.Īt a time when wildfires are forcing communities to evacuate or live under layers of ash and smoke, workers say they are being squeezed out of wildland firefighting by low pay and few options to find affordable housing. “But is it worth living like this, with so much uncertainty?” The answer, he decided, was no. “I love this job and the people I work with,” said Meyer.
Forest Service and fresh certifications to supervise small crews - Meyer was living out of the back of his truck. Four fire seasons later - with thousands of firefighting hours logged, a new job with the U.S.
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Working his way up the ranks did little to upgrade Meyer’s living conditions.
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Meyers kept a mattress inside a tent on the floor of his temporary home, provided for free by his employer, to prevent mice from crawling across his chest as he slept. In the rural community where he worked, outside Bonners Ferry, Idaho, housing was scarce and rent was a luxury he couldn’t afford. It was 2017 and he was a 20-year-old rookie earning $11 an hour. This story was originally published by the Guardian as part of their two-year series, This Land is Your Land, examining the threats facing America’s public lands, with support from the Society of Environmental Journalists, and is republished by permission.ĭ uring his first season as a wildland firefighter with the Idaho Department of Lands, Luke Meyer camped out in a decrepit building infested with rodents.
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