Even with possible union concessions and retirements, both of their jobs are expected to disappear on Jan. 18, when the city plans to lay off as many as 383 unionized municipal workers.
The Truitts - who have three girls, ages 1, 6, and 13 - fear the trickle-down effect of layoffs in a city where government jobs are among the only way to make a decent, honest living.
With the loss of both their incomes, they worry about paying the mortgage on their modest home in the Fairview neighborhood, with its fenced-in front yard now decked out for the Christmas season.
The Truitts' story demonstrates the potential effect of the layoffs on Camden beyond the loss of services. Some predict more empty homes in a city already littered with them, and more hits to the anemic property-tax rolls.
"For me, it hasn't really sunk in yet," Damon Truitt said. "I tell guys I work with, 'I'm a survivor. I survived before this job and I'm going to survive after.' I don't really know how bad it's going to be."
The uncertainty has led to anger from residents and union members and finger-pointing among city and state leaders.
Responding to criticism from City Council President Frank Moran that the state had underfunded Camden this year, Gov. Christie lashed out at a news conference on Friday.
It's easy for council members to cast blame, Christie said, "but they're the ones who have been managing the city for all these years and put [themselves] in the position they're in."
The governor, a former U.S. attorney, praised Camden Mayor Dana L. Redd for taking difficult steps to fix the city. But he said Camden had seen a generation of corrupt managers that his former office had put in jail.
"Camden has to get its house in order," he said, noting that last month the state sent Camden transitional aid totaling $69 million, more than any other city.
The state "is not the mother or father of these municipalities who every time they run out of money in college they call for another wire transfer," Christie said. "This is not the way this is going to work anymore."
In one sign of a new approach, Pennsauken Mayor Rick Taylor said Friday that he and Redd had had a preliminary discussion about regionalized fire coverage. Under such an arrangement, Camden would pay Pennsauken to hire firefighters, allowing the township to expand its coverage to neighboring East Camden.
Taylor said he spoke to Redd before the layoff announcement but would be happy to talk further. "Everything is on the table, and we'll go from there," he said.
Redd's office confirmed that the two would meet again.
Also on Friday, the Camden County Freeholders and state legislative delegation from Camden said they planned to hold an as-yet-unscheduled meeting of law enforcement agencies within the city - including the state police, Sheriff's Department, and federal Drug Enforcement Agency - to develop a contingency plan for keeping residents safe after the layoffs.
It's a stark contrast to Camden's approach to public safety in the first half of 2010, when it hired more than 50 officers to flood the streets of what was recently ranked the country's second-most-dangerous city.
Among those new officers was Yvette Truitt. She would not be interviewed Friday because the Police Department had told officers not to speak to the media, according to her husband. But a plaque from the Police Academy indicating she was her class' "most-improved recruit" hung prominently in her living room.
The Truitt children do not yet know that their parents are likely to lose their jobs. Christmas will be fine, though: Damon Truitt had put money aside.
Also still on schedule is the Truitts' first-ever ski trip to the Poconos, set for Yvette Truitt's birthday on the weekend before the layoffs go into effect.
"It will be a good thing to get away and get our minds off things," Damon Truitt said.
Bouncing year-old Amani on his lap, he said he loved being a firefighter and working at an engine company two minutes from his house.
He gets an adrenaline rush when he runs into burning buildings, he said, and his eyes lit up when he described the bravery of a captain who had been his mentor.
Life in the firehouse suits him, too. During overnight shifts, he uses his experience as a restaurant cook to buy whatever's on sale at Pathmark and whip up dinner.
"It's a nice little bonding thing that you get with your company," he said.
Together, the Truitts earn less than $100,000 a year. After they married in 2008, they took a honeymoon trip to Walt Disney World with their children. It was Damon Truitt's first time on a plane.
The next year, the couple bought their first house.
"The most important thing is to have a roof over our heads," Damon Truitt said. "When that day comes and neither of us are going to work, that's when it's really going to hit home."
Though it could mean the loss of his job, he doesn't think the firefighters should accept major contract concessions, such as pay cuts.
"If you give them an inch, they're going to take a mile," he said.
Damon Truitt has a carpet-cleaning business on the side and could spend more time at it after the layoff, he said. He could also pick up work cooking at his uncle's bar.
"I really don't want to be a fireman anywhere else besides here," he said. "This is where I'm from. This is my city."
Contact staff writer Matt Katz at 856-779-3919 or email@example.com.
Inquirer staff writer Maya Rao contributed to this article.