Fire Dept. hit with complaint

Adrienne Packer

Monday, June 4, 2001 | 11:01 a.m.

Lorraine Russell-Williams said she couldn't breathe.

Strapped tightly in her firefighting gear, the bell on her oxygen tank rang incessantly, signaling a dangerously low level of air. Russell-Williams remembered gasping for oxygen as she labored to complete her rookie school drill.

The only vision in the black recruit's mind was a hangman's noose she found draped above her firefighting gear days earlier. The last sound she heard before falling unconscious were the words from her instructor, also a medic.

"You're a ... clown," she remembered her instructor shouting. "You're in the wrong school; you should be in clown school."

Russell-Williams endured 16 weeks of the Clark County Fire Department's rookie school before she was let go two days before the May 24 graduation ceremony. She has since filed a discrimination complaint with the Clark County Equal Employment Opportunity office.

Fire Chief Earl Greene wouldn't elaborate on Russell-Williams' dismissal other than to say that she failed her probationary period. He also declined to discuss whether the noose had been placed above her turnouts.

"That's a topic we'll get into with litigation, so I don't think it would be appropriate to comment," Greene said.

The 33-year-old is waiting for her complaint to be reviewed. However, she knows her life as a Clark County firefighter might not have improved had she graduated and made it to "the floor" -- full-time firefighter status.

Russell-Williams apparently is not alone.

Renee Zerkle, who in 1997 filed a lawsuit against fire administrators, says working at the Clark County Fire Department has been difficult.

The two women's stories intertwine accusations of sexism, racism and excessive hazing that, it is alleged, have dogged the department for years.

"Hazing or initiation rites, horseplay and various pranks are inappropriate and serve to discredit the professional image of the fire service," an arbitrator in the Zerkle case wrote. "However, these rituals in various forms were allowed to continue unchallenged for many years."

The U.S. Department of Justice has been investigating employment practices at the fire department for six months, with most of its focus on women. Of 623 employees in the department, 48 are women and 18 serve in fire suppression.

George Cotton, director of the county's Equal Employment Opportunity office, confirmed last week that his division has several discrimination complaints pending against the fire department. But Cotton declined to describe the nature of the complaints or say exactly how many have been filed.

Cotton said releasing the information could help employees' class action suit and might also violate their privacy.

"When you get into the type of complaint where you have a limited number of women and minorities, it's not too hard to pinpoint who filed the complaint," Cotton said. "That person could be subject to retaliation."

Zerkle filed her lawsuit after nearly a decade of being victimized by hazing and then being demoted from captain for failing to recognize shenanigans seemingly accepted by male firefighters as hazing, she contends in the lawsuit.

She and several others were reprimanded for allowing a firefighter to be tied up, caked with mayonnaise, barbecue sauce and flour and left while crews responded to a call. Zerkle says she tried to take action, but the firefighter refused to file a complaint.

When the disciplined firefighters appealed their punishment, Fire Chief Greene reversed his action against the men; Zerkle's demotion and suspension stood, according to her 1997 lawsuit, which was filed in federal court. It was eventually overturned by a public hearing officer.

Outlined in Zerkle's lawsuit are a series of pranks played on her: Live animals were tucked into her bed; firecrackers were tossed into her dorm room, and she was forced to sit in the yard with the sprinklers running.

After being directed to take the garbage out one night, Zerkle says she was charged by a masked man wielding a butcher knife. The prankster revealed his identity -- a fellow firefighter -- only after seeing the fear in Zerkle.

Benny Scott, a 27-year member of the fire department and former president of the Black Firefighters Association, said discrimination against women and blacks has been prevalent in the department for years.

If the veteran firefighters don't like certain colleagues, they'll try to drive them out of the department, according to Zerkle's lawsuit. Rookies are given the warning during school.

"If the guys do not mess with you, they do not like you. Do not let them see that it bothers you or else they will continue to go after you to see if you will snap," the lawsuit says, quoting a rookie school instructor.

Scott is aware of the fraternity atmosphere, but he could never recall a hazing incident as hateful as placing a noose in the station.

"I think it's appalling that could happen in today's world," said Scott, adding that the Association is also looking into taking action against the department. "To me, those are hate crimes."

Greene, who said he has worked hard to diversify his division, acknowledged hazing has troubled the fire department but said he has tried to address it through training.

"We've tried to educate through diversity training to turn some different mindsets around," Greene said. "We're aware of problems in the past, and I'm sure there will be problems in the future. How we handle these problems is important and we'll continue to work in this area."

Russell-Williams said she began questioning her instructors' intentions during a ladder throw -- a drill during which firefighters swing a 24-foot ladder onto their shoulders without allowing it to touch the ground, run, lift it and throw it against a wall.

Exhausted from earlier drills, Russell-Williams struggled and began running out of oxygen. Her supervisors were relentless. When the ladder began to fall freely, nobody intervened and Russell-Williams said she was knocked in the head.

"I'm scared at this point; I'm like, 'They're trying to kill me,' " she said. "I'm running out of air and my mask is sucking my face. At that point I knew this wasn't about training, and I started praying. I know it was only through God that I got the ladder off my shoulder and advanced it to the ground."

Russell-Williams was offered a deal after she filed her complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity office -- drop it and graduate. She declined.

"I'm not dropping any part of my complaint against them," she said. "I said this is something I earned. I'm not making any deal."