Watching Atlanta firefighters tackle the Loew’s Grand Theater fire next to her non-profit law office in 1978 left an impression on Rosemary Roberts Cloud.

Little did Cloud know that two years later, a radio campaign to recruit minorities for the fire department would be the impetus she needed to relinquish a future at law school and, instead, enroll in the fire academy.

“I had never met a firefighter, never paid attention. It was strictly remembering what they were doing at that fire and thinking I was up for the challenge and wanted to help people,” Could said.

However, not everyone was a fan of Cloud’s decision. In fact, her parents and siblings held a secret meeting to discuss it. Her parents and siblings thought she had “gone crazy.” They had expected her to enroll in law school.

“That was the design for me, which was to become the first attorney in the family,” she said.

The family wasn’t concerned about her being ill-received because of her race and gender, but rather about safety and “giving up a job I could do for a job I could maybe do,” Cloud said.

Indeed, the fire service was a new world to Cloud. After asking a local fire department about the dress code at the academy, she was told to wear work clothes. She showed up in law-firm attire — wearing a pantsuit and high-heel shoes and carrying her purse.

After a brief introduction, the instructor informed them they would be going to the field.

“So I went to one lieutenant and said, ‘Where can I put my purse?,’” she said. “And the look on his face … I knew I had made a mistake.”

The lieutenant openly teased her in front of the class. Everyone laughed, including Cloud. The second day, she knew to wear a jogging suit.

At the academy, Cloud didn’t feel any backlash for being a black women and only one of two women in her group. In fact, recruits generally were supportive of each other and her.

“You learn when you get into the academy you only have a job if you get through this training,” she said. “Most of the guys realized that they didn’t have a job either, so we had that commonality. And I didn’t experience any intolerance from recruits.”

For instance, Cloud had trouble staying with the group when first jogging. She was placed up front. The male trainees had her by the arms helping her through. The instructor said, “Turn her loose, she’s not on a date,” she laughed.

The instructors always would call the women to demonstrate a task, and then repeat it with the group.

“They told me they did it to make it clear to all these men out here that we could do our jobs, twice,” she said, noting those instructors were some of the greatest mentors and friends she’s made in the fire service.

The Rubber Hits the Road

However, when Cloud was assigned to her first station, she realized the Atlanta Fire Department had picked “new flowers but they hadn’t treated the soil to make sure they could flourish.” When she reported to her first Atlanta station, firefighters asked what they should call her.

“You call me ‘Cloud,’” she told them. “But they didn’t even know how to address or talk to me.”

It didn’t take long to recognize the separation of races. On her shift specifically, the firehouse would be separated: blacks on one side, whites on the other.

“It was very segregated,” she said.

Cloud also was targeted by a lieutenant who wouldn’t sign a special permit needed to drive.

“Finally, he was off one day and a captain came over and signed [my permit],” she said. “That’s how I was able to drive the engine.”

Most of her early career, Cloud filed grievances and complaints against people who targeted her, held her back from training, or retaliated against her. For example, at one fire incident, one of the men pushed her on to an inflamed mattress.

Filing grievances was important because Cloud stood up for herself, which eventually deterred unacceptable behavior.

“But if I could do it over again, I wouldn’t have been shooting at every moving target — but definitely, I would have been shooting because that was the only way to get change,” she said. “And a lot of things changed, including policies and opportunities.”

Cloud climbed the ranks at the Atlanta Fire Department until she landed a position as operations chief overseeing the city’s airport. She had 180 firefighters, four stations and a good budget, she said.

In 2002, Cloud became the first black female fire chief in the nation when she accepted a job at the East Point (Ga.) Fire Department, which protects 40,000 residents. At the fire department, she was able to “treat the soil,” she said.

While at first there was officer backlash from being brought in from the outside, she simply recruited allies from within the department and began diversity training.

“I focused not only on race and gender, but on generational training, personality training and sexual orientation,” she said.

Cloud hired experts who discussed personality types, sexual harassment and the definition of a hostile work environment. In addition, she brought in attorneys to dissect litigation liability if lines are crossed.

“It was received well,” he said. “You can apply this training to any portion of your life.”

However, Cloud found it difficult to find strong numbers on diversity in the fire service. As a result, she believes diversity needs to be better documented and data products developed.

“People are so afraid to put race and sexual orientation on documents, which is crazy,” she said. “We need to stop being afraid to discuss these things.”

Even today, Cloud believes the fire service still needs to treat the soil — specifically when it comes to recruiting and retaining female firefighters. To make it work, procedures, preferences and requirements to qualify for firefighting needs to be revisited—such as making the candidate physical ability test (CPAT) more inclusive.

“The CPAT process is a competency agility testing process, and it’s great. The part that becomes a preference vs. a requirement is when you put a time on how soon someone gets through that testing … If someone demonstrates that they can get through it, then they can do the job.”

Another issue is education and creating a safe work environment.

“If you don’t have women that are promoted and retiring in your department, then that sends a bad message,” he said. “We have to make the job look like something women would want and can succeed at.”

Read more about diversity in the February print edition, and look for follow-up articles and diversity training tools for your department on FireChief.com/.