It’s the kind of news that stops a fire station cold. One minute, you’re checking gear and prepping for the next brush fire; the next, the radio is silent for all the wrong reasons. Cal Fire Captain Rebecca Marodi wasn't just another name on the roster. She was a 30-year veteran, a mentor, and a woman who had spent literally her entire adult life running toward the things everyone else was running away from.
When the news broke in February 2025 that she had been found dead in her Ramona home, the shockwaves didn't just hit San Diego. They ripped through Riverside, San Bernardino, and every station where "Becky" had left her mark. This wasn't a wildfire tragedy. It was something much more personal, and honestly, much more difficult for her colleagues to process.
The Career of a Lifetime
Becky Marodi didn't just land a captain’s seat. She earned it through three decades of grinding. She started back in 1993 as a volunteer in Moreno Valley. Think about that for a second. Thirty years. She saw the department change, saw the fires get bigger, and saw the technology evolve from basic maps to high-tech thermal imaging.
She wasn't just about the hoses and the sirens, though.
She was a massive part of the Peer Support team. In the fire service, that’s everything. It’s the people who show up when a crew has a "bad" call—the kind involving kids or horrific accidents—and make sure the firefighters’ heads are right. She was the one checking in on everyone else.
By the time she was promoted to Fire Captain in 2022, she had worked everywhere:
- Perris and Home Gardens
- Indian Wells and Menifee
- North Rancho Mirage and Temecula
- Most recently, Station 83 in French Valley
She was also a specialist in Hazmat. Basically, if it was dangerous, Becky was probably trained to lead the response.
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A Night in Ramona That No One Saw Coming
The details that came out after February 17, 2025, were pretty grim.
Rebecca was 49. She was actually looking forward to retirement in 2025. She was so close to the finish line. Then, around 9:00 PM on a Monday, San Diego County Sheriff's deputies were called to her home on Rancho Villa Road. They found her with multiple stab wounds to her neck and chest.
Despite her own peers—the very Cal Fire paramedics she worked with—trying to save her, she died right there at the scene.
It didn't take long for the investigation to turn toward her wife, Yolanda Marodi (also known as Yolanda Olejniczak). They’d been married about two years. The most chilling part? A Ring doorbell camera caught the whole thing. The footage reportedly showed Becky running across the patio, begging for her life.
She actually yelled out, "Yolanda! Please! I don't want to die."
The response caught on tape was a cold "You should have thought about that before."
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The Search for Justice
After the attack, Yolanda didn't stick around. She loaded up her SUV with pets and luggage and headed for the border. Records from the Department of Homeland Security showed she crossed into Mexico at 9:15 PM, barely 15 minutes after the first 911 call was made by Becky's mother, who also lived on the property.
The manhunt lasted five weeks.
It was a binational effort involving the U.S. Marshals and Mexican authorities. They eventually caught up with her in March 2025 near a hotel in Mexicali.
A Dark History Revealed
As the case unfolded, a lot of people started asking how this could happen. It turns out Yolanda had a history. Back in 2000, she was involved in the stabbing death of her then-husband, James Olejniczak, in San Bernardino. She ended up being convicted of voluntary manslaughter and served about 13 years in prison.
Whether Becky knew the full extent of that history is something we might never truly know. Friends say they were stunned. They knew Becky as a happy, smiling person who was finally giving love another chance.
Remembering "Becky" Beyond the Headlines
If you talk to the people who actually knew Cal Fire Captain Rebecca Marodi, they don't want to talk about the court cases or the manhunt. They want to talk about the woman who rode with The Litas San Diego, an all-female motorcycle collective.
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In March 2025, more than 200 bikers rode from Hillcrest through the winding roads of Ramona to honor her. She was "Butch," she was proud, and she was tough as nails. Her colleagues described her as the person who could make anyone laugh, even in the middle of a 24-hour shift on a fire line.
She recently helped fight the Eaton Fire in Los Angeles, a massive 14,000-acre beast. She was a worker. She was a mentor.
Actionable Takeaways and Next Steps
The tragedy of Captain Marodi's death is a stark reminder that even the strongest among us—the protectors—can be vulnerable in their own homes.
If you or someone you know is in a situation that feels unsafe, there are professional resources that specialize in first-responder-specific advocacy.
- Reach out for Peer Support: If you are in the fire service, don't wait for a crisis to use the peer support networks Becky helped build.
- Domestic Violence Resources: The National Domestic Violence Hotline (800-799-7233) provides confidential support and can help with safety planning.
- Support the Family: Following her passing, memorial funds were established through the Cal Fire/Riverside County Fire Department to assist her family and honor her legacy at the French Valley station.
The best way to honor a leader like Becky is to check in on your crew, listen when people say they aren't okay, and keep her legacy of mentorship alive in the fire service.
Primary Sources & Evidence:
- San Diego County Sheriff's Department Homicide Unit reports (Feb-March 2025).
- Official Statements from CAL FIRE Riverside County Fire Department.
- Court records from El Cajon Superior Court regarding the arrest warrant for Yolanda Marodi.
- Reports from the Baja California State Security Force (FESC) regarding the Mexicali arrest.