"In 1981, after four years of working on initial attack, I was given a chance to break in with the Big Horn interagency Hotshot crew ... I was ecstatic. I've been fascinated with fire since I was eight years old, and this is all I've ever wanted to do in my life.
"I caught up with the Hotshots on the Hell's Canyon fire near the Snake River in Idaho ... Tony (one of the crew), when he saw me, he took off his tin hard hat, threw it against a rock and said, "No "-ing women on our crew."
"A number of other folks wouldn't speak to me or acknowledge my presence ... One fellow warned me to stay away from Tony, but the next morning the squad boss assigned us to work together.
"I immediately grabbed a bladder bag and started down the hill. I kept working all day ... Tony kept getting nailed by water drops from the helicopters, and I laughed ... By the end of the day I guess I'd proved myself, because Tony began to puppydog me everywhere I went. After the season was over, we started dating.
"But the next year, the harassment got worse and I let it affect my work ... Somebody tacked up a bunch of Playboy pin-ups on the barracks' wall. And it seemed that if I asked questions, my questions were dismissed. Or my judgment was questioned. But if some guy asked the same thing, he was listened to.
"If I made suggestions to do things a certain way, I was told I was too bossy. I always felt as if I were under a magnifying glass - and still do ... Things have slowly changed ... (Still) I sometimes see people get angry that women or minorities are given a chance to work. There's an angry group of people out there who don't want to see that happen ... In some cases the harassment isn't punished because a man's family would be hurt if he were fired.
"Tony and I were married in 1984. We're separated about four months out of the year, but we're always talking over the phone about the fires we've been on.
"He turned out to be the best friend I have."
* Mark Matthews