FROM PRISON TO FIRE LINE WOMEN CAN TAKE THE HEAT INMATES SHOW THEIR WORTH WHEN IT COUNTS MOST.

Byline: DENNIS McCARTHY 

Their orange prison jumpsuits are covered in soot and dirt, and the young women in the work crew are dead tired. But they're smiling like a team of kids who just brought home the championship trophy.

A day spent knocking down a brush fire beats any day sitting in a prison cell.

``G'night, boss,'' the women said to veteran Los Angeles County Firefighter Doug La Count as they returned from a recent day on the fire lines to Malibu Conservation Camp 13.

It's one of three female camps in the state run jointly by the California Department of Corrections and the Los Angeles County Fire Department.

If you're a taxpayer looking for some bang for your buck, and a rehabilitation program that makes sense, Malibu Conservation Camp 13 is where you'll find it.

``If you have to do time, this is the place to do it,'' says Katherine Hardin, serving a two-year sentence for forgery. She is standing in a group of more than 30 other female inmates, and none of them are disagreeing with her.

``County jail was horrible,'' Hardin said. ``You're locked down all the time with nothing to do. Here you have something positive and worthwhile to do every day. You're not just killing time.''

Positive and worthwhile, the operative words. Two crews of 28 female inmates had just returned from fighting fires for four days in San Diego County and a weekend blaze in Aqua Dulce.

``They're all jazzed,'' said Lt. Angela Alexander, camp commander. ``They were airlifted into a fire area by helicopter for the first time, and one of the San Diego fire battalion chiefs told them they had done a great job.''

It didn't surprise Los Angeles County Fire Capts. Steve Davis and Larry Tucker. It's their job to make sure these women are physically and mentally ready for the rigors and dangers of fighting fires. And they don't cut the inmates any slack just because they're women.

``I will pick the highest hill, so they better be ready to climb it, and they are,'' Davis said.

Both fire captains say the male inmate work crews are more macho and aggressive on the fire line, but the women crews do a more thorough job.

``It may take them a little longer, and they may need a few more bodies then the men, but the women cross the t's and dot the i's on the job that has to be done better than the men do,'' Tucker said.

For the public and the women, Camp 13 is a win-win situation.

``This is something a lot of these women never thought they could ever accomplish, running a chain saw and facing the danger of getting close in to fight a fire,'' Tucker said.

``Hopefully, it gives them more internal strength so when they leave here and run into tough situations out in the world, they won't backslide. They know they've been in a tougher situation here and made it.''

Inmate Terry Collins said she felt more like she'd graduated than been paroled when she recently left Camp 13 after serving 23 months for manufacturing methamphetamine.

``I am leaving here a totally different person than when I came in - a much stronger, confident person,'' she said. ``I'm not coming back.''

Some of the women parolees have gone to work for the U.S. Forestry Service because of the skills they learned here.

While no recidivism statistics are kept for inmates in work camps versus lock-down institutions, no one in the Department of Corrections doubts these camps send stronger, more confidant women back into society - women much less likely to return, Lt. Alexander said.

Couple that with the state and county's budget savings by having inmate labor for brush clearance, park and beach clean ups - jobs the inmates do when not fighting fires - and it's a no-brainer, Tucker said.

``The bottom line is the public benefits,'' he said. ``The women who made the mistakes are paying for them by working hard, and it gives them a chance to pay back society.''

If you don't think they care, think again, says Alexander who accompanies the women to the fire lines.

``At first they're afraid they can't perform the duties, but a few months later they're out fighting fires,'' she said. ``Some of them come back crying, it's so emotionally draining out there on the line.

``But they all come back proud of what they do here every day.''

Like the women at Camp 13 said, a day spent knocking down a brush fire beats any day sitting in a prison cell.

Dennis McCarthy, [phone]

dennis.mccarthy(at)dailynews.com

CAPTION(S):

8 photos

Photo:

(1 -- 2 -- color) Camp 13 inmate Amanda Tubbs uses a chain saw to battle a wildfire in the hills of Malibu with fellow inmate Suzannie Allen. Top, inmate Helen Harris' face shows the sweat and strain of battling a brush fire.

(3 -- color) Camp 13 crew inmates Ida Hernandez, Patty Petersen and Shelly Taylor survey a wildfire in the hills of Malibu.

(4 -- color) Crew members from Camp 13 make their way up a canyon to reach the site of a wildfire in the hills of Malibu.

(5 -- color) Firefighting crew members make last-minute preparations for an inspection. The women say they learn valuable skills.

(6 -- 7 color) Amanda Tubbs, above, takes a break with her chain saw nearby. Right, inmate Diana Ferrer takes a drink of water during a break in training on a controlled burn in Castaic.

(8 -- color) Inmate Natasja Elliott looks from the back of a crew truck while practicing entering and leaving the vehicle.

Photos by Hans Gutknecht/Daily News