The Catskills Are Running Out of Firefighters — and the Vacation Home Boom Is Largely to Blame
Tucked into the rolling hills of the Catskill Mountains, the small town of Shandaken, New York, has long attracted city dwellers seeking a weekend escape. Its hamlets — Pine Hill and Phoenicia among them — offer exactly the kind of rustic, scenic charm that commands a premium in today's real estate market. But beneath that idyllic surface, a quietly alarming crisis is taking shape: the town is running dangerously low on firefighters, and the root cause points directly to the region's housing transformation.
Shandaken's situation is not unique. Across upstate New York and in rural communities throughout the country, volunteer fire departments are struggling to find and retain members. What makes the Catskills story particularly urgent is how rapidly the problem has accelerated — and how clearly it illustrates the unintended consequences of a booming second-home market on the essential workers who keep these communities safe.
What Is the Empty-House Problem?
Shandaken has what locals and observers are calling an "empty-house problem." Over the past five years or so, the balance between full-time residents and part-time vacationers has shifted dramatically. Homes that were once occupied year-round by working families are now sitting dark most of the week, waiting for weekend visitors from New York City and other urban centers.
This trend accelerated sharply during and after the COVID-19 pandemic, when remote work made it feasible — even desirable — for higher-income households to buy up rural properties. Home prices in the Catskills surged, and with them, the cost of living for people who had built their lives in these communities. Teachers, nurses, tradespeople, and yes, volunteer firefighters found themselves priced out of the very towns they served.
When a firefighter can no longer afford to live in town, they can no longer respond to a 2 a.m. alarm. It's as simple — and as dangerous — as that.
The Volunteer Fire Department Model Is Under Pressure
Unlike cities, which rely on paid, professional fire departments, the vast majority of rural American communities depend entirely on volunteer fire departments. These organizations are staffed by local residents who train on their own time, respond to emergencies on a moment's notice, and receive little to no financial compensation for their service. It is a system that has worked reasonably well for generations — but only as long as there are enough committed local residents to sustain it.
The numbers nationally have been trending in the wrong direction for decades. According to the National Fire Protection Association, the number of volunteer firefighters in the United States has dropped by roughly 20 percent since the 1980s. The causes are multiple: longer work commutes, changing community ties, and the demands of modern life all play a role. But in places like Shandaken, the housing crisis has become the most immediate accelerant.
- Volunteer firefighters must live close enough to respond quickly to emergencies — typically within a few miles of the firehouse.
- As housing costs rise and workforce families relocate further away, the pool of eligible volunteers shrinks.
- Part-time residents and vacationers, however well-intentioned, are not a reliable source of emergency responders.
- Younger residents who might otherwise join are leaving the region entirely in search of affordable housing.
Essential Workers Are Being Pushed Out
The firefighter shortage is really a symptom of a broader essential worker crisis unfolding across the Catskills and similar rural destinations. Housing prices that have doubled or tripled in a matter of years are making it impossible for the people who perform critical community functions — plumbers, EMTs, teachers, grocery store employees — to remain in the communities they serve.
When essential workers are displaced, the consequences ripple outward in ways that are not immediately visible to weekend visitors but are deeply felt by year-round residents. Response times for emergencies increase. Schools struggle to hire and retain staff. Local businesses can't find workers. Infrastructure maintenance falls behind. The community slowly hollows out from the inside, even as property values climb on the outside.
For fire protection specifically, the stakes couldn't be higher. A delayed or understaffed response to a house fire can mean the difference between a manageable loss and a total catastrophe — or, more gravely, between life and death.
What Can Be Done? Exploring Potential Solutions
There is no simple fix to a problem this deeply rooted in economic forces, but communities and policymakers are beginning to explore a range of responses.
Some municipalities are looking at workforce housing initiatives — dedicated affordable housing units reserved for essential workers — as a way to keep critical personnel anchored in the community. Others are exploring modest stipend programs for volunteer firefighters, acknowledging that financial incentives, even small ones, can help with recruitment and retention. Regional cooperation between neighboring fire departments is another avenue, allowing smaller departments to pool resources and coverage areas.
At the state level, advocates are calling for legislation that would offer tax incentives to volunteer firefighters — a model that several states have already piloted with encouraging results. New York has taken some steps in this direction, but many argue that the scale of the response has not matched the scale of the problem.
A Wake-Up Call for the Catskills — and Beyond
Shandaken's firefighter shortage is a warning signal that deserves far more attention than it typically receives. It is easy to celebrate the economic vitality that vacation home demand brings to rural areas. The tax revenue, the restaurant traffic, the boutique shops — these are real and meaningful benefits. But a community that cannot staff its fire department is a community that is quietly coming undone, regardless of how charming it looks on a Saturday afternoon in autumn.
The people who make places like Shandaken livable — who respond to the fires, patch the roads, care for the sick, and teach the children — need a place to live. Until that basic fact is treated as seriously as property values and tourism revenue, the empty-house problem will keep getting worse, and the firehouses will keep getting quieter.