Jordan Thomas’ “When It All Burns” is a tremendous book that deepened my understanding and appreciation not just of the men and women who serve as wildland firefighters but also of the long, tragic history of land mismanagement in the American West. Without concerted efforts to reverse our abuse of the land and a dedicated examination of what we have done to create these dire conditions, it shows that all of us will continue to suffer the consequences of megafires.
“When It All Burns” presents the former firefighter’s learning curve and his harsh immersion in the elite Los Padres Hot Shot Crew. As an inexperienced newbie facing the tumultuous 2021 wildfire season in California, he shares his vivid reflections of the arduous and terrifying work. He delineates the interconnections between not just the climate crisis and the ever-increasing megafires that now destroy more in a season than have burned previously in decades or centuries, but also the history of fire as landscape control and the (spoiler alert!) tawdry and tragic legacy of white supremacy, climate change and corporate greed.
The rote explanations — that these fires were caused solely by hapless government agencies, drought or stray sparks — obscured their true form: They were the consequence of centuries of colonial rule and corporate greed.
This book is powerful, instructive and well written. Thomas shows the reader the vast beauty of the land, the fascinating and destructive power of fire and the legacy of our rapacious westward expansion. This legacy includes the earliest settlers in the West, first the Spanish and then the Europeans, whose violent eradication of the Indigenous population interrupted eons of successful interactions between humans, fire and the natural environment.
Thomas is an unlikely addition to the hyper-masculine, hotshot crew, a lithe intellectual with deep lung capacity. He details the deep, complicated bonds of the hotshots, forged in extreme toil and dangerous conditions as well as in the idle hours, waiting or performing tedious labor. He gives us a vivid portrait of those who put themselves between the roaring monster and whatever remains unburned.
The work is strenuous and dangerous. His brief orientation informs him that, beyond the plentiful natural threats — shifting fire patterns, falling trees, swarms of bees, endless poison oak — the principal hazard to confront would be the danger posed by the crew’s masculine tendencies. He writes that early on, he felt the cultural paradox that to survive on the crew (socially and literally), members needed to embody the very traits that could kill them.
I love firefighting and hiking in the mountains, but separately. Unlike us city firefighters, our wildland kin don’t retreat to their own stations for hot showers and cool beds: They sleep in the dirt at the edges of massive conflagrations, going weeks without showers. It could be nice, sleeping deep in the mountains under the stars — except the night sky is smothered by the impenetrable, billowing smoke. And someone has to stand sentry against encroaching flames.
Scientists warn that wildland firefighters face more challenges than most when it comes to the consequences of climate change, because their survival depends on knowledge that is calibrated to a world that no longer exists. “When It All Burns” entertains and educates without being preachy or despairing. I found it excellent.
