Read the Book - See the Movie

Image by Mystic Art Design from Pixabay 

For 15 seasons, I was a dispatcher. My "view" of the fire situation was much different than those of you on the fire ground. I experienced the course of events more like reading a book, whereas those on the front lines were watching the movie. Much of my experience was made up (rightly or wrongly so) in my mind. The storylines included things like plane crashes with bodies still in the cockpit, fires threatening homes and communities, a dead body in a garbage bag found on a dirt road in the middle of the desert, and scanner communications with agents practicing for upcoming operations (maybe even Ruby Ridge). Each and every time, I made up the imagery. Whoever says dispatching is easy never did it.


I am not diminishing life on the line. I am highlighting the fact that dispatching is not a part of fire suppression operations that should be taken lightly. There are reasons why air traffic controllers retire at age 55 and first responder dispatchers (including wildland fire dispatchers) tend to burn out and move on to other professions.

The toll dispatching took on me wouldn't be known until the summer of  2001 (two years after I quit two weeks into the season because of a conflict with a supervisor). It would be this summer that I realized I had PTSD and would never dispatch again.

When I quit in 1999, I thought fire was a part of my past. When fires raged across the West and presidental visits were the norm in 2000, I asked my former FMO to put in a good word for me at NIFC. I was given the opportunity to work in the returns warehouse. When the time came for me to show up, I experienced panic attacks and turned down the job.  It was too soon.

Later that year, I applied for a job in BLM Fire Training and came on board as a staff assistant. This wasn't a fire operations job per se, but I still had some anxiety that I dismissed as issues with a coworker. That was part of the problem, but there was something more.

After six months in the job working on the aircraft dispatcher course, I contacted the Boise District BLM and asked if they needed help. They knew me and put me and my story and put me on the phones. Easy pease, right? No! They broke a Type 2 crew and threw me into expanded dispatch. They knew I was a good dispatcher with expanded qualifications. I did one shift.

Later that summer, the BLM Assistant Center Manager at the National Interagency Coordination Center (NICC) convinced me to try a shift. He was the subject matter expert on the aircraft dispatcher course, knew my work as a dispatcher, and would be right there to assist. The stress was so much that I developed both tennis and golfer's elbow on the same arm. I let my qualifications laspe, turned in my Red Card, and never worked dispatch again.

I don't tell my story for pity. I tell my story because post-tramatic stress disorder (PTSD) is real. Wildland firefighters and supporters experience a lot of little events and a few big ones that mount up. We are first responders. Accumulated stress manifests itself in ways we don't expect. I am here to say, "It is okay." We are human and experience "stuff."

Please take time for some self-care and check in with team members. Make sure that you are not dismissing the effects of things you experience. It is okay to take a break, to step away if you have to.

I miss the adenaline of dispatch and helping with fire suppression operations. Fortunately, I never gave up on my career in fire. I am coming up on my 19th anniversary at NIFC. I have found a way to contribute and make a difference in the lives of those on the line. My time with BLM Fire Training and the Wildland Fire Leadership Development Program has been life changing and fulfilling.

Here is to a few more years of our time together! We can make a difference together, whether on or off the fireline.

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Pam McDonald is a writer/editor for BLM Wildland Fire Training and Workforce Development and member of the NWCG Leadership Subcommittee. The expressions are those of the author.