PASADENA, Calif. (AP) — Sal Almanza has worked 24-hour shifts in grueling terrain, cutting fire lines and hauling away brush trying to keep ahead of fires that have devastated several Los Angeles neighborhoods. But when the fires are finally out, he won’t be going back to his family: He’ll be returning to the prison “fire camp” where he’s serving time for drunken driving that injured someone.
“I wanted to do something positive while I was here,” the 42-year-old said. “Something that would contribute back to the community and just help me feel better about my situation and right the wrongs that I did.”
Over 1,100 California inmates have been working around the clock in challenging conditions — including howling winds and toxic smoke — to help Cal Fire battle the Eaton and Palisades fires, the largest and most destructive of about a half-dozen fires that burned in the Los Angeles area in the past two weeks.
They become firefighters for the chance to cut time off their sentences, to get outside the prison walls and for training that might help them land a job once they’re out.
But some say the inmates, many earning less than $30 a day for their efforts, deserve better after risking their lives: to be paid on par with other firefighters.
“We always talk about how it’s an injustice and we’ve never addressed it,” said California Assemblymember Isaac Bryan, who introduced a bill this week that would pay inmates the same as the lowest-paid non-incarcerated firefighter on the frontlines. “I think it’s appropriate for us to have a conversation about what equity looks like even in the midst of a natural disaster.”
Braving powerful winds and debris, crews cut fire lines around homes, cleared vegetation, removed propane tanks and anything else that could fuel the fire. The firefighters described carrying 45 to 65 pounds — or more — of gear while hiking for hours in steep, rugged terrain to cut containment lines to keep flames from spreading.
Almanza, who is serving a 4-year sentence at the minimum-security Fenner Canyon Conservation Camp, said the firefighting is physically demanding.
“You’re putting your (bodies) through things that you think they can’t go through and pushing them to the limit,” he said.
At least 27 people have died in infernos that have destroyed more than 12,000 structures and left tens of thousands under evacuation orders. The fires are likely to be among the most destructive in California history, according to CalFire.
California began training inmates to help fight wildfires during World War II, when many men were deployed overseas. Today, the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, the state forestry department and the Los Angeles County fire department operate 35 “fire camps” where inmates can become certified wildland firefighters.
When deployed, those firefighters earn from $5.80 to $10.24 a day, depending on experience, and an extra $1 an hour during active wildfires, according to the corrections department. That means the lowest-paid firefighters earn $29.80 per 24-hour shift.
Corrections officials say the inmates volunteer and are aware of potential dangers.
The department did not answer an Associated Press query about how many have been killed or injured on the job, but Smithsonian Magazine reported in 2022 that at least four inmates had died in the preceding few years — including one struck by a boulder and another in a chainsaw accident.
A 2018 Time investigation found that incarcerated firefighters were over four times more likely than professionals to suffer cuts, bruises or broken bones and over eight times more likely to have complications from inhaling smoke and other particles.
Joseph McKinney, another inmate battling flames in Los Angeles, said it’s a risk he’s willing to take.
“When you realize you’re doing something … for the greater good, you’re willing to put that sacrifice up,” he said. “And not only that, I have a debt to pay to society and this is how I’m choosing to pay it back.”
Bianca Tylek, executive director of the criminal justice advocacy group Worth Rises, questions whether incarcerated firefighters’ work is truly voluntary because California requires inmates to work. State voters in November rejected a measure that would have banned forced prison labor.
She says it’s exploitative to offer low-paying firefighting jobs to those desperate to be on the outside and to shave time off their sentences.
But “labor is labor and … should be compensated,” Tylek said.
Sam Lewis, executive director of the Anti-Recidivism Coalition, supports the fire camps but said it’s “sad” that it took “a horrible tragedy” to spark a movement for better pay that has gained support from many residents, including celebrity Kim Kardashian.
“It brings light to the people that are incarcerated and how … they come to serve the community that they may have harmed,” he said. “But look at how they’ve given back.”
His organization advocated for the development of an advanced training and certification program at the Ventura Training Center, which prepares parolees for firefighting careers. In 2020, Gov. Gavin Newsom signed a bill giving paroled firefighters the chance to expunge their records to make it easier to find jobs.
Bryan said he hopes his bill can be expedited — and perhaps made retroactive — so inmates can be “treated with the dignity and respect they deserve.” He said the money could come from emergency federal funding.
“I think everybody who … is risking their lives to save others is a hero, and that doesn’t matter whether you’re incarcerated or not,” Bryan said. “If that is who you are, that is your character and that is what you demonstrate in the middle of a crisis … the state of California owes you a debt of gratitude.”
