A second chance, earned the hard way.
After nearly two decades behind bars, Damien Hill is now running toward danger, not away from it, becoming the first former inmate hired as a firefighter in Spalding County, Georgia.
Hill spent 19 years and 10 months in prison for his role as a getaway driver in an armed robbery. But from the start, he said he knew he wanted a different path.
“I was incarcerated 19 years and 10 months and from day one I already knew that was a place I didn’t want to be,” said Hill.
Instead of falling deeper into trouble, Hill turned inward — reading, studying, and preparing for a life beyond prison walls.
“I picked up every book I could read. I studied all I could study, and I made plans,” he said.
Those plans took shape three years ago when Hill joined a Department of Corrections firefighter training program run in partnership with the Spalding County Fire Department.
He was one of eight inmates selected from the Spalding County Correctional Institution — a group chosen through a rigorous vetting process that evaluates physical fitness, academic ability, attitude, and criminal history.
“They felt like this was their way of making amends, and it gave them that opportunity to feel community and make amends for what they did,” said Fire Chief Mike Byrd.
The impact inside the department was immediate.
“When they pull up, it’s like the cavalry pulling up because we’re a small department,” Byrd said. “We have two people to an engine. When they come pulling up, it’s ideal, and they go straight to work — they’re good firefighters.”
After three years of training and working as a firefighter while still incarcerated, he was released in late October and hired full-time, marking a first for the department.
“This is one of the best interviews on the face of the planet because we actually get to train them our way, see their job performance, work ethic, how they get along as a team,” Byrd said.
Now, Hill is no longer just part of the crew — he’s leading from the front.
“Now I’m in a position where I’m getting off the engine first, I’m first in,” Hill said. “I’m able to deal with people firsthand without any supervision.”
For Hill, the job is more than a career — it’s a lifeline. A sense of purpose. A connection to the community. And a clear path forward.
“My mindset was clear: Don’t come out looking for a handout, come out giving a hand,” he said. “And that’s what I did.”
