The Non-Linear Journey

Garland Graves did not set out to join DC’s Fire and EMS department. When he first shares this with me, it comes as a surprise, given his 28 years of dedicated service. There’s also the steadiness of his voice and presence throughout our conversation—his demeanor seems ready-made for a role that requires focus and poise amidst extreme circumstances. It was just an initial need for a job that led him to join the fire department at 19, where he eventually retired as a battalion chief. “I stumbled into it,” he admits upon reflection. “I never in my life thought about a career in the fire service.”

Coming of age in DC in the late ‘70s, he did not picture himself doing that sort of work in his community. “I’m a native Washingtonian, born and raised. People who are born and raised and live here in the city never considered those jobs,” Graves says. “They never seemed like they were for me. No particular reason, just never occurred to me.”

Graves grew up in Southeast DC and entered the department sometime after graduating high school. “I had done a year in college and dropped out because I wasn’t focusing on my grades,” he says. “My parents were paying so I told them, ‘Don’t waste any more money.’” While he never imagined himself becoming a public servant, he and his roommate at the time both needed work, fast. Winter had arrived and the holidays were right around the corner. “I was recently unemployed, me and my roommate. He had gotten laid off from his job and we were going to sign up for unemployment,” Graves explains. A pit stop to help his roommate’s uncle was a chance encounter. “He asked us what our plans were [that day] and we told him we were going to the unemployment office. He said, ‘Well, I have a friend that works there. Let me call and see if anything’s going on.’”

It just so happened that the fire department was hiring. “The fire department? I don’t know about no fire department,” Graves remembers thinking. However, his interest in the position grew with the potential for financial security. “I never knew anything about a career job. I never knew of the concept of a career, so I just thought, ‘Fire department? That’s another job. I’ll do that for a few years, save up a little bit of money, and go back to school.’”

With a five-year plan in mind, Graves signed up. The department offered a program to young adults during that time that helped prepare them to take an entrance exam for the fire service. The format allowed participants to experience each area of DC Fire & EMS (FEMS) up close, learning the ins and outs of the career. The program also offered significant benefits: paid tuition at the University of the District of Columbia, 20-year retirement with no age requirement, and promotion exams given every two years.

The decision to take the exam was a quick process for Graves. Learning of his acceptance was not. “I took the exam in January of ‘77. I didn’t get called until November of ‘78; I almost left town for another whole future,” he says. “I had gone away on vacation, came back, [and] had my mind made up I was moving. I was checking all my mail that came while I was gone—my letter came in from the fire department. So I said, ‘Well, I had been waiting nearly two years. Let me go ahead and give it a go.’”

With one “yes,” Graves worked his way up the ranks from a driver at Engine 15—the local firehouse near where he grew up—to sergeant to lieutenant to captain to battalion chief. As a lieutenant in the 1980s, Graves’s then-mentor convinced him to become one of the first instructors for the department’s new Cadet Program, training inexperienced yet willing adolescents in matters of public safety. Though he was initially hesitant to take on the role, he now beams with familial pride as he lists the achievements of the students who came through the program. The surprise twist in his life path has become a source of revered appreciation. “Looking back, it’s probably one of the most significant things I’ve ever done,” he says. “I’m just excited I had the opportunity to do it.”

Open Up the Door

For those who live outside of it, the nation’s capital is a shining beacon of opportunity, particularly for those looking to work in public service. A nucleus for federal agencies, people travel from across the globe to seize the possibilities afforded within them—families and legacies are built on these opportunities. The experience can be different for native Washingtonians. Without knowledge of what these careers might offer or the path one takes to get there, DC can easily become the tale of two cities. The landmarks and institutions that dazzle on TV can be just as distant for those who can see them from their backyard.

As an inner city youth, Graves experienced this exclusivity firsthand, and it was only when his desire to work and learn a new field was met with opportunity that things changed. “I’m going to date myself and go all the way back,” he laughs. “When I was a little kid, James Brown used to say, ‘Open up the door. I’ll get it myself. I don’t want nobody giving me nothing. Just open up the door.’” For Graves, that open door led to a long career as a respected instructor and leader within the department. His experience runs parallel to many of the young adults he instructed in the DC Fire & EMS (FEMS) Cadet Program. And though James Brown wrote “I Don’t Want Nobody Giving Me Nothing” in the late ‘60s, its declaration rings bold and true for generations of DC youth.

Since its inception, the cadet program has opened the door for 27 classes of eager young adults. Captain Thomas Williams is proud to be one of them, a graduate of the Cadet Class 11 (his emphasis). Entering the program was more than a chance at a new career for Williams; he believes it cleared the path for his family to begin again.

“I had a family member in the cadet program who joined about two years before I did,” says Williams. “He was trying to get me to join the next class after him, but my mind was set on going to college.” He pursued his dream right after high school, attending Temple University in Pennsylvania to play football. The excitement of a dream fulfilled lasted just two weeks before he learned that his family was on the verge of eviction. He quickly moved back home to DC to work and support his family, but the eviction still held. With his father, uncles, and brothers now split between different housing situations, Williams’s determination to get them back together went into overdrive: “Something had to work.”

“I ended up moving with my godparents at the time; actually, the person who was already working for the department [through] the cadet program was my godbrother,” shares Williams. He enrolled in Howard University the next semester but could not find a way to attend school full-time and financially care for himself and his family. “My godbrother was still in my ear and told me about the idea that the fire department pays for you to go to college when you’re there. At that point, it was a no-brainer.”

Potential cadets who apply for the program do so at a personal cost. As a training program, participants make a fraction of what they can make when they officially join the department. “I was only getting paid $400 every two weeks, which was a big decrease from what I was making before I joined the cadet program,” Williams remembers. “But I knew what the potential was once I graduated and became a firefighter, so it was a sacrifice I needed to make.” Acceptance into the program can also be a long time coming—a hard truth when still seeking permanent housing. But that didn’t sway Williams either. For months, he was persistent in calling the cadet coordinator for the status of his application.

Then, suddenly, everything changed.

“I got a phone call on a Friday evening from [coordinator] Lieutenant White. He asked me if I still wanted to join the cadet program, and I told him, ‘Yes.’ He said, “Okay, you start on Monday.” Though he wanted to give his current job more notice, Williams quit that weekend and began the program that Monday. He graduated a year later at the top of his class and officially joined the fire department full-time. His tunnel vision was not in vain: Williams used his first paycheck as a firefighter to place a deposit on an apartment for himself and his family, fulfilling his dream of bringing them all under one roof. He credits the cadet program with helping to springboard his family into long-term security: “I was able to leave that apartment to my family members and bought my first house a few years after that.”

As he approaches 20 years in service, Williams reflects on the impact of the cadet program at such a pivotal moment in his life—a youth on the cusp of adulthood. “The fire department changed my life,” he says. “And I’ve been hungry ever since.”

“You Don’t Know Until You Know”

Joining the fire department takes tenacity, even before official service starts. All interested participants begin with an application form, an entrance exam to test math and reading comprehension, and the mandatory candidate physical ability test (CPAT). Passing the exams results in a review by the suitability board, where the department performs a background check and candidates complete a personal history statement. Candidates then take a psychological exam and are interviewed by suitability board members.

“It’s a lengthy process, but it’s needed because the work that we do—people are entrusting us in their homes,” says Lieutenant Roshawnda Drake. As the department’s head of recruitment, she knows that members must anticipate more than a job. People invite immediate support into their homes when they dial 911 and may be shaken by their circumstances. It requires a set of character traits the department refers to as BASICS: bravery, accountability, service, integrity, compassion, and safety. “Even though they invited us in and called us for help, a lot of times they’re angry,” shares Lt. Drake. “So you gotta have that compassion there along with bravery. We go into burning buildings when everyone else is running out. You can’t be running out with [them].”

DC is unique in that it does not have a volunteer station for curious youth looking to better understand the department—an institution common in other cities. Volunteering provides a peek behind the curtain of public safety, and this exposure often leads to interest. It also clarifies the next steps for training and full-time employment. The cadet program is the city’s alternative, a structured space for participants to grow in passion, discipline, and fortitude. Lt. Drake has witnessed firsthand how the fire service bolsters youth to grow into responsible adults. She is a graduate of Cadet Class 10 and is clear on how entrance into the program jump-started her life on both a personal and professional level. “I’m thankful for the cadet program. Even though I had a year in college, I was still immature. And they helped mold me into a mature young lady during that year as a cadet,” she says. “The program itself, that’s what it’s for, to help mold and build a young adult into a firefighter.”

While it continues to expose participants to what it takes to run the fire department in its totality, the cadet program has since evolved into a one-year training inclusive of young adults beyond high school. Interested participants between 18 and 21 years of age can now apply. They must be DC residents and graduates of DC public schools with a GPA of 2.0 or higher.

The age range extension allows additional DC residents to participate at a crucial time in their lives. College is one way of continuing education after high school but for those who don’t have college on their radar, or whose plans for that path change suddenly, a career in the fire service can be a route that sparks something deep inside of its members. “I didn’t have a plan…the fire department chose me, that’s what I feel like,” shares Lieutenant Eugene Roach, a graduate of Cadet Class 10. “The older guys always say, ‘This is not a job, it’s a calling.’ And I just feel like the job chose me because I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do when I graduated high school.”

Word of mouth, one generation speaking to another, is how cadets learn the opportunity exists. Lt. Proctor and Chief Graves traveled to each DC public high school to give presentations on the new program. Their recruitment efforts exposed youth to the possibility of a career as a public servant. Many had no interaction with the fire department outside of seeing fire trucks whiz through their neighborhoods. This was true for Lieutenant Wendy Pinkney, a Cadet Class Five graduate who sat in one of Chief Graves’s presentations at Brown Junior High School. “When I sat and listened to the program, it made me think about the firehouse in my neighborhood and how I had never seen any women in the fire department,” she says. “At least, not in the neighborhood I lived in. So it was intriguing.”

Lt. Pinkney joined the cadet program, later becoming a member of the department in July of 1990. Throughout her time with the fire department, Lt. Pinkney came to see that there were other women firefighters, stationed throughout the city. Many of them became mentors to her throughout her career. Following the example of her mentors, Lt. Pinkney cheers on members of the next generation of cadets. “I’m so impressed by the strides that we’ve made in the last three decades that I’ve been here, and finally having one young lady reach the level of Assistant Fire Chief,” she reflects.

Each time a cadet joins the program their participation adds a new dimension to what is possible. In her time there, Lt. Pinkney acquired a bachelor’s degree in Fire Administration and interacted with different district and federal agencies, including the Mayor’s Office and the White House. “The fire department is one of the things that you just don’t know until you know,” says Lt. Pinkney. “You don’t know how many things the fire department has their hand in until you have to put your hand in.”

Hometown Heroes

The possibilities offered by the cadet program stand amidst a sobering reality. “It’s a good feeling that you’re living and working in the city that you grew up in…you’re going in to help your friends, help people that you know,” says Lt. Pinkney. “There is a downside to that because my area was near the DC jail. It’s a surreal moment when you go in there and you’re going on a medical or fire call and you see someone from your neighborhood—you see someone you went to school with. You’re on opposite sides of these cells, and you don’t know why that is. One of us could have easily been in the other’s shoes.” Lt. Pinkney pauses and then adds, “But I know entering this program at such a young age and knowing the responsibility that I had kept me on a narrow path. I knew I didn’t want to mess this up; I didn’t want to take it for granted. I still feel that way today.”

That sentiment resonates across the stories of many cadets. In the late ‘80s, DC saw an infiltration of drugs and an increase in homicides, particularly among black men under the age of 20. The rate reached its peak in 1991, at “epidemic proportions” as one study notes. During his time as an instructor, Chief Graves released trainees each Friday into the weekend with the same admonition: “Don’t let your friends influence you to do something that can cost you your job, and don’t let your friends convince you to do something that can cost you your life.”

Though the city gained a reputation for violence, it remained home to teens and young adults raised against the backdrop of those statistics. Youth who attended school, played sports, built friendships, and visited family in these neighborhoods. With the introduction of the cadet program, they now had the chance to train in offering emergency care to their hometown.

That element of service is an important cornerstone for Dr. Unique Morris-Hughes, the Secretary of Labor for the district and Director of the DC Department of Employment Services (DOES). The agency currently funds each cadet class, covering the training costs for tuition, supplies, and books. “Imagine how impactful it is [for] a kid to see young adults who look like you, sound like you, who went to the same elementary, middle, and high school as you…not just working, but in a job that the whole purpose is to help people,” she says. With the cadet program, “I think it’s important to stay connected to movements and initiatives that have not only created a pathway for a community of people to work and provide for their family but also to give back.”

Former cadets speak with deeply rooted gratitude for their time in the department and an equally strong awareness of what their commitment meant. Much was at stake for themselves and their city, and they met the moment with courage and endurance. A few recall the study sessions they held for one another, the long hours of practice they put into training, and the inward jolt that came upon realizing they knew and could apply everything they had learned. They embarked on a career that required them to not only retain technical knowledge but also be physically ready to administer it at any given time, and to remain level-headed throughout the process.

The bonds formed in each class continue to sustain them as they encourage one another toward excellence. It also engenders a sense of mentorship among program alumni. Lieutenant Delmar Freeman, a graduate of Cadet Class 11, notes, “Being a firefighter is a mentality, and the cadet program helps you develop a little faster.” He recognizes it as a time to grow into one’s future and imparts the wisdom he built in that time and space. “I want you to know where you’re going,” he says of his hope for future cadets. “I want you to be great at your craft because your life might depend on it.”

DC Fire & EMS members are known as #DCsBravest, choosing to face danger head-on to protect others. The ability to serve your community with a personal familiarity of the people and streets where the emergency calls are made is a weighty experience. Cadets carry that truth with an alchemy of empathy and pride of place—in fact, they are fueled by it. When asked what often motivates them to apply, Lt. Drake notes, “I think the majority of it is inner city youth wanting to serve the city they grew up in. To be like the hero, the hometown hero.”

A Legacy of Hope

Former cadets model heroism in many ways. Living in the same communities they work in means that other residents gain a personal connection to their service. The act is full circle—just as the cadets witnessed new possibilities through program instructors, they now become the reflection point for the following generations.

Charles Mack, retired Deputy Fire Chief of Facilities and graduate of Cadet Class Two, witnessed that throughout his 32 years in the fire department. As he went out on calls, he would “see little kids and they’d be looking at you. I’d walk over and approach them to talk because you want them to understand we are here to help you,” he says. “So if you got a question, ask a question. If you want your bike registered, bring your bike down. It became a thing. You’re sitting outside the firehouse after you finished your chores or whatever you had to do, drilling for the day, and kids would come by. They look and then you wave; they’ll smile and wave and start pulling their parents over.” They entered the firehouse with looks of sheer joy and surprise as they asked to touch the fire trucks. Chief Mack urged them: “Come on in. Touch the fire truck. You want to sit up front? Go ahead.”

His time at Engine 15 in Anacostia—coincidentally, the same firehouse he often passed by on his way to play basketball as a kid—was a time of opening doors to the neighborhood. “It’s definitely a place that, to me, is now more open than it has ever been for inviting people. It’s more community-based, where you’re reaching out and really interacting with the community outside of when they’re distressed.”

Chief Mack’s classmate, Mark Wynn, shared a similar experience at the beginning of his career. “When I was 17 and in the cadet program, physical fitness was important. I would actually go jog on my days off. And young men—my peers—would see me and would say, ‘Hey man, what are you doing?’ Once I started to wear a uniform, they were like, ‘Oh man, you’re in the fire service.’ So I think it had a positive impact on them; it kind of broadened some of their horizons.”

Wynn, a retired deputy chief with 32 years of service, considered the cadet program “truly life-saving” during his tenure as it gave him an outlet to focus his attention. “An idle mind is the devil’s workshop, as they say, right? So for me, it removed me at a critical time from parts of the city where there was nothing to do.”

Throughout its time, the program faced certain threats: lack of funding, criticism, and for some years, closure. But leaders, like founding instructor Lt. Proctor, fought for it because they believed in its impact. He even funded some of the classes with his own money so that participants could continue growing in opportunity, integrity, and self-confidence. Their efforts were seeds that produced crops beyond DC’s 64 square miles.

“When you take young people, and you put them in a position where they could thrive, it impacts everyone as a whole,” says Wynn. “It impacts the entire city. It impacts the world, actually, because we don’t just stay here—I got guys who retired that are now in Florida, and the kids may have gone abroad to study. It is bigger than just what the cadet program is. I think it is just good for humanity.”

The legacy of the cadet program represents more than a career opportunity. From the experience of those who lived it—first responders whose words and footsteps bear remarkable distinction—the program is many things: a lifeline nourishing generations of participants and their families; an incubator that inspires a lifetime of service, broadening the appeal of the fire department to native Washingtonians; a poverty disruptor that makes way for cadets to purchase property in the city; a story of adolescents turned adults who willingly put everything on the line, assuming a posture of bravery with their very lives.

The history of the cadet program is a history of hope.

Documentary by Steve Jeter
Article by Britnie Dates / Editor: Avery Marks