Luke is one of the first lines of defense protecting public lands and communities from wildfire, yet he can’t afford a place of his own.
“Right now, I literally live in my van in the parking lot of the ranger station,” Luke said. News21 is identifying him by a pseudonym because he feared speaking publicly may cost him his job as a federal wildland firefighter.
Luke, 22, moved into his hot and cramped van three years ago. By the end of this fire season, he’ll most likely need to replace it. To fall asleep, he cools off with ice packs under his arms. He gets dressed lying down and has no space to cook.
Luke’s housing insecurity isn’t unique and is among the larger concerns — along with wages and burnout — wildland firefighters face every year.
These first responders are confronting a housing crisis. Many struggle to afford secure and stable living situations, and they are often supplied with housing in poor condition. This instability is only one of many deep-rooted issues wildland firefighters encounter, including poor pay, low morale and a staffing shortage.
Depending on the year, the number of wildland firefighters in the U.S. varies. Most are federal employees, working either for the U.S. Forest Service or the U.S. Wildland Fire Service. Others work for companies that are contracted by the federal government. Wildland firefighters can have temporary, seasonal appointments or work in permanent jobs, coming back every fire season or year-round.
Regardless of their contract type, wildland firefighters come across the same issues and have the same job. They can be sent to extremely remote places, unreachable by vehicles. Sometimes, they fight fires right in someone’s backyard.
‘One of the worst fire seasons in recent history’
Wildland firefighters and their jobs are crucial for America.
“We’re heading into what may be one of the worst fire seasons in recent history,” Rep. Jared Huffman, D-Calif., said during the Wildfire Action Now press conference on June 24. “We have to do better. We must do better.”
In a May 4 Facebook post, the U.S. Forest Service said it was ready — but in just a couple months, the U.S. has seen one of the most devastating fire seasons in 10 years.
As of Aug. 7, at least 10 wildland firefighters have died in the line of duty. Wildfires have burned over 6.4 million acres. The nation’s preparedness level is at its highest, a level five. Wildfire danger is at its highest. Resources are stretched extremely thin.
Rep. Joe Neguse, D-Colo., has spent years trying to make legislative change for wildland firefighters. He hosted the June 24 conference on Capitol Hill, urging Congress to intervene.
“There are federal agencies responsible for key wildfire prevention, mitigation and management programs that are experiencing irresponsible and reckless staffing and budget cuts that have dramatically — in my view — worsened working conditions for our wildland firefighters, creating unsustainable workloads, inadequate pay and benefits, and a dwindling trust in agency leadership,” Neguse said.
Neguse has introduced legislation, including most recently Tim’s Act and the Support our Firefighters Act, to address these crises. None have passed.
‘It was almost impossible to get a house’
Todd Heon is a veteran wildland firefighter who’s been on the front lines of some of the country’s biggest blazes, like California’s Bobcat Fire in 2020.
“When you talk about housing and the cost of housing getting so expensive, there’s only two things that fix a firefighter’s ability to afford housing,” Heon said. “You either have to raise his wages or you have to lower the cost of housing.”
In a 2024 survey by advocacy organization FiredUp: Federal Wildland Partners for Progress, 81.3% of respondents reported inadequate housing for wildland fire crews; 86% reported that either they or someone they knew lived in a car, tent or couch surfs.
FiredUp co-founder Lacey Keller Smith’s husband has long worked as a first responder and became a wildland firefighter three years ago.
The housing crisis gripping America, she said, isn’t exclusive to her husband’s job.
“What’s unique to my family is that the housing crisis is exacerbating our ability for first responders to show up on the worst day of people’s lives and protect life and property,” Keller Smith said.
The crisis exists in both rural and urban areas, though the specifics may change.
Janelle Valentine and her family live in New Mexico for her husband’s job as a federal wildland firefighter. In their small town, there’s no medical care, daycare or major grocery retailers.
“Our town has a country store, a gas station, the Forest Service, a hardware store and a school,” Valentine said. “That’s it. There’s nothing else.”
Bobbie Scopa saw up close the housing issues in more populated areas. As the forest fire chief at Washington’s Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forest, she led crews from 2004 to 2011. Some of the most elite and experienced wildland firefighters on her crews, smokejumpers, lived in their cars all summer, she said.
“[It’s the] places that have really high tourist areas,” Scopa, the vice president of Grassroots Wildland Firefighters, said. “These areas that are going to be problematic are the ones that have high growth.”
Dave Galbaldon, a former federal wildland firefighter, bought his home in Southern California in the early 2000s. He said he couldn’t have done it without his now ex-wife’s income.
“Other firefighters at that time, if they were single or had one income, it was almost impossible to get a house,” Galbaldon said.
Sal Perez, a wildland firefighter on the Angeles National Forest in Los Angeles County, California, said he feels lucky. Compared to some of his coworkers who live farther away from the LA area, he only has a 30-minute commute.
Unlike the firefighters one would see in their city, wildland firefighters report to their stations five days a week from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. The length of their daily commute matters.
Perez and his wife, a nurse, purchased their house for $500,000 when the market was “fairly low.” Today, it’s worth about $900,000.
“It took me 19 years to get here. I’m kind of at a place where the pay, I wish it was more, but it’s OK for us,” he said. “If something happened to my wife where she wasn’t able to work anymore, then we would be in trouble.”
This housing instability is exacerbated not only by the economy, but also the salary wildland firefighters receive.
Fire season is when many wildland firefighters make their money — most of it from overtime hours. For some, who are temporary seasonal employees like Luke, once the season ends, so do the paychecks.
“It’s a lot harder for people in my shoes to commit to staying in one place when you’re only guaranteed six months of pay,” Luke said. “If I wanted today to go to an apartment, I could afford it. But to commit to that lease, not knowing where the money will come from in the future or if I get a better opportunity somewhere else, that would be tough.”
To survive the off-season, these first responders try to rake in as much overtime as they can.
Over 20 years ago, Galbaldon earned $50,000. His base salary as a federal wildland firefighter made up $35,000 of it.
The remaining $15,000? It came from 500 to 800 hours of overtime.
In 2026, overtime is “the foundation, not the exception” for wildland firefighting, a 2026 Grassroots Wildland Firefighters survey reported. The majority of respondents, 82%, shared they worked more than 500 hours of overtime in the past year. Roughly 1 in 4 worked over 1,000 hours of overtime.
Working on the Angeles National Forest, Perez understands the necessity of overtime.
“It goes back to the cost of living here,” the fire engine driver/operator said. “They’re looking for that overtime as much as they can, so they could stack up and put it away.”
Overtime isn’t optional, Perez said. If a firefighter does turn down overtime, it’s frowned upon.
‘It’s getting more dangerous’
In certain areas and forests, federal agencies like the U.S. Forest Service provide living accommodations. Many duty stations have barracks. Sometimes, there’s even family housing.
Wildland firefighters, however, say the provided housing is inconsistent and unreliable, with some locations lacking space for permanent employees or families.
Heon, the federal wildland firefighter, said he “got lucky” when he worked in Southern California. His family lived in provided station housing. Now, they own a home in Justin, Texas, close to where Heon works at the Caddo-Lyndon B. Johnson Grasslands in Decatur.
“The Forest Service wasn’t trying to be in the business of being landlords. I think that’s why they ended up with just a few houses,” Heon said.
Over time, the government didn’t allocate enough funding to adequately maintain the limited housing, Heon said. Consequently, it became unlivable.
Scopa, the retired firefighter with 45 years of experience, said many barracks are “dilapidated and a health hazard.” She saw rodent infestations, flooring weak enough for someone to fall through and no working plumbing.
“It’s horrendous,” Scopa said. “That’s the real life of what our folks are dealing with.”
At Perez’s duty station, the crew faces the same unsustainable conditions: an aging building, a failing septic system, no clean drinking water and rodent infestations. Perez has told his superiors about these problems. As of publication, nothing had been fixed.
During the height of fire season, wildland crews sometimes staff the station for 24 hours. Perez said he and his team sleep wherever they can find a spot, on the floor, in their trucks or on a table.
When responding to fires, they’ve been forced to buy their own safe drinking water so they can refill their packs after a fire or simply to be able to stay hydrated, Perez said.
Valentine’s husband has been a wildland firefighter for 11 years, leaving her with no misconceptions about the job and its conditions.
But this fire season is different with harsh winds of change and an increasingly grim reality.
“It’s getting more dangerous for my husband to go to work every day,” Valentine said. “We’ve increased his life insurance significantly.”
The latest GWF Federal Wildland Workforce survey shows wildland firefighting is rapidly becoming unsustainable. It found that “units are understaffed, morale is at a breaking point and three out of four firefighters have considered leaving the profession in the past year.”
Work-life balance, excessive overtime, pay and burnout were the main reasons federal employees gave for leaving, either for a different agency or wildland firefighting entirely.
The USFS did not respond to multiple requests for comment.
The USDA stated on its website that as of July 6, “we had 11,816 wildland firefighters onboard nationwide, which is 104% of our goal. Even though this isn’t enough capacity to meet the needs of the continuing wildfire crisis, this is the number of firefighters we are able to support with existing infrastructure, funding and other resources.”
In an email, a wildland service spokesperson said “providing safe, secure, and comfortable housing for wildland firefighters is a priority for USWFS.” They said the service is “committed to working through these challenges, continuing the conversation, and supporting our wildland firefighters.”
The U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Appropriations acknowledged systemic issues within wildland firefighting in its 2026 funding report. The committee’s report recommends a unification of USWFS and USFS wildland firefighting resources and a $1.2 billion budget.
‘It’s sustainable until it’s not’
While federal agencies say they’re prepared, firefighters interviewed by News21 say that doesn’t reflect the day-to-day conditions they face.
And when these firefighters leave, they’re taking decades of invaluable experience with them.
“We’ve had a mass exodus of people and, you know, you can’t really blame them,” Perez said.
At his station, there aren’t enough qualified individuals to fill the empty positions. He’s doing the work of a captain but getting paid for the position of a driver/operator — a lower rank with less pay.
Heon has been a federal wildland firefighter for over 25 years. Though he and his family are in a stable financial and housing situation, he understands how the career is looking less desirable.
“You just feel like the only way you can pay for that housing now is that you have to be gone all summer to make overtime, and it’s just not a very sustainable model,” he said.
Wildland firefighters can be out of contact for 14 days at a time on an active fire, work long hours and be pulled away at a moment’s notice.
In Idaho, Luke said, he’s valued his job over relationships, costing him multiple girlfriends. It left him with no illusions about how the heavy burden his career places on loved ones.
“I guess the sacrifice for working so much is the difficulty of being a young person in a relationship,” he said. “I do think it takes a sacrifice from your significant other to have a family and do this job. It’s sustainable until it’s not.”
Keller Smith said her marriage wouldn’t have survived if her husband had started his career in wildland firefighting. Families are forced to “twist” themselves into whatever shape necessary to make their lives work, she said.
“Housing is one of those places where if you want a family, you have to look at where you can work, where you can afford to work, because it limits your options,” Keller Smith said. “You can’t take a job just anywhere.”
She said her husband, and others like him, risk their lives with little support to face an economic and housing crisis.
“If you want people to show up the way that we demand wildland firefighters show up, you have to make sure that their basic needs are cared for,” Keller Smith said.
