Growing up in Miami’s Liberty City housing projects, Charles Maree’s mother had one rule: safety first. Every morning, before heading to work, she locked her children inside with a heavy iron door that clanged shut like a prison gate. From behind that barrier, Charles and his siblings watched neighbourhood kids play freely in their dirt yard while they remained “secured.”
That iron door became more than a lock. It was a sign of survival in a world that did not provide Black families with safety outside. The projects were loud, dangerous, and at times heartbreaking. But behind the walls, Charles gained discipline, resilience, and the truth that security is not always freedom.
This experience defined the man he would become. Later in life, when the Miami Fire Department offered its own “iron doors”–systemic racism, unjust discipline, and career sabotage–Charles knew the sound. The lesson had already been implanted in him: security sometimes means sacrifice, but freedom is worth fighting for.
His own memoir, Gods of Fire, embodies this paradox in humor, in anguish, and in truth. From being locked in as a kid to battling fires and fire systems, Charles shows us how obstacles don’t just keep harm out—they also create strength inside.
