A Silent Fire: Breaking the Stigma of Mental Health in the Fire Service – By Bay District Volunteer Fire Chief Jason Turner
SMNEWSNET Editors Note – “In October of 2024, Jason Turner, at just 27 years old, made history as the youngest Fire Chief elected in the Department’s 80-year history. By then, Turner had already dedicated 11 years of service, proving his deep commitment to our community and the fire service. He often describes the department as his second home, where he gained not only experience, mentors, but also an extended family and life-long friends that shaped his calling to serve and lead.
This department responds to over 2,000 calls every year. Many of those have been tragic, graphic, rare, or just downright unusual situations no one should ever have to witness. Yet our First Responders face them head-on, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, often sacrificing their own time and peace of mind.
We’ve seen firsthand what these everyday heroes endure, and we can attest—it is not easy. This work is not something just anyone can do, nor see day after day. But across our nation, volunteers continue to answer the call, not for recognition or reward, but because they feel a deep and undeniable calling to serve.
We stand behind Turner and support his message and initiative. It’s O.K. to say you are not O.K. Be the change.”
A Silent Fire: Breaking the Stigma of Mental Health in the Fire Service – By Fire Chief Jason Turner
The Nation’s Quiet Blaze
The nation’s fire departments and public safety agencies are dealing with a new type of fire, one not extinguished with water, foam, or a well-placed hose line. It’s a quiet fire, smoldering in the hearts and minds of first responders.
It’s about the stigma surrounding mental health and the generational mindset that firefighters, police, paramedics and dispatchers need to keep their problems bottled up.
The culture for years in emergency services has been one of toughness. The unspoken rule was explicit: Don’t talk about what the job does to you. Don’t show vulnerability. Don’t let the weight of the calls get too heavy to bear, which is when you break and admit. But this culture, so steeped in tradition, may actually be more hazardous than the work itself.
2020 Photo
A Journey Into the Fire Service
I became a firefighter in 2012 at the beginning of my high school junior year, when I was just 16 years old, as a volunteer with the Bay District Volunteer Fire Department.
I was immediately hooked, as were many young recruits. The firehouse was a new family, a place that became a sort of second home. I dreamed of making a career as a professional firefighter from that passion.
Well, at the time I had no sense of the mental cost that dream would exact.
Firefighting wasn’t all playing on a big ol’ truck with lights and sirens or getting to wear gear that made me feel larger than life. It was about rising at all hours of the day or night, mental and physical reserves drained, but still with a duty to perform.
It was seeing the destruction and chaos that would develop, sometimes in front of my eyes, of holding lives in my hands, and sometimes helplessly witnessing life fade away.
Yes, it is rewarding to save a life, or to be the difference between hope and tragedy. But what is less discussed is that each one of those calls leaves its trace behind. We don’t discuss that part of the job. In fact, the unspoken rule, in many firehouses, is: Keep your feelings to yourself. Only then, if you allow a call to drive you mad, let it show weakness or that the stress is getting to you, you are accused of being weak.
The Toll We Don’t See
That culture is toxic. It’s in some ways deadlier than the flames fighting us.
The U.S. Fire Administration recently disaggregated some data from 2015 to 2017 with depressing results. Of the first responders who died by suicide:
- 58% were law enforcement officers
- 21% firefighters
- 18% EMS workers
- 2% public safety telecommunications workers
These are the numbers for lives lost, not on the line of duty, but instead in silent battles of their own. And although statistics can seem remote, the answer is as uncomplicated as can be: anything above zero is too many.
We like to think of each other as a band of brothers rushing to save strangers in their darkest hour. But how often do we turn and look across the table at the firehouse kitchen, or into the eyes of the partner we ride with every single shift, and say: Are you O.K.?
2021 Photo
A Personal Choice
For me, it was when the mental stress began to spill over into my personal life. I had joined the fire service with every intention of making it my career, but the more I witnessed, the more I came to understand that if I made firefighting my vocation, it may very well be my downfall.
But I chose to stay a volunteer. I sought help. I went to treatment. I discovered healthier strategies for dealing with stress. And on that journey, I promised myself that I would do my bit to break the stigma.
I didn’t want the next generation of firefighters — the young men and women filling the shoes I no longer occupied — to have to endure, as I did, the same struggles in silence.
Leading From the Front
I have, in time, advanced through the ranks of Bay District’s leadership and am now the Fire Chief. With this role, I get the responsibility of not just if we’re operationally ready, but how well my members are.
For me, leadership isn’t pretending nothing makes a difference to me. It’s not about being stronger than I am.Real leadership is leading by example by de
My members seeing me show the weight of a tough call but still do so without breaking myself in an unhealthy way sends a powerful message: You don’t have to drown the pain in alcohol, numb it with drugs, or mask it with anger and isolation. There are healthier ways to respond.
Warning Signs We Can’t Ignore
Unhealthy coping mechanisms just reinforce the fear. They escalate the inevitable.
The fire service has always been quick to identify the signs of what fire behavior looks like — heat, smoke, flame — but we need to be able to identify the signs of what mental distress feels like, looks like in ourselves and in our brothers and sisters.
And what do those signals even resemble?
- Behavior changes: snapping over trivial annoyances, outbursts that don’t seem to fit the person’s typical temperament.
- Withdrawal: excluding oneself from the group, not attending social events, not talking to others.
- Sleep changes: sleeping much longer than usual — or, rather, hardly sleeping at all.
- Overworking: cramming in endless tasks to avoid having to think, rather than giving the brain and body the respite it needs.
- Substance use: using alcohol or drugs as an outlet, rather than finding healthier outlets.
These are not mere eccentricities or “bad moods.” They could be alerts that somebody, beneath the surface, is not O.K. And in our profession, failing to heed these signs can be as reckless as ignoring smoke in a fire-engulfed building.
Building a Culture of Care
Here is the truth: humans were not designed to sprint 24/7. Our brains and bodies need rest. We need connection. We need support.
If you notice those signs in your friends, don’t walk past. Stop. Ask. Offer help. You never know when you could make the difference between saving a life or not.
A culture of silence that has characterized our profession for too long needs to be disrupted. And that change begins with us — today’s firefighters, EMTs, police officers, dispatchers and leaders.
It isn’t only about sparing the next generation of this stigma. It’s about saving our own generation, and the one above ours, so that the wisdom of our experience can be passed along instead of buried.
Be the Change
When the call comes in, we don’t think twice about standing between a stranger and danger. Don’t our brothers and sisters in uniform who leave home and family for extended periods deserve the same?
This is the fire we need to fight against, together. Not with water and ladders, but with empathy, openness, courage.
I am only one voice, but I know I speak for many others. We can do this, together, to end this stigma. Together, we can redefine strength, and let it be honesty, not silence.
So here goes: It’s O.K. to say you are not O.K.
Be the change.
2020 Photo
