The Day I Became Committed to Safety
Editor’s Note: A couple of weeks, Art Fettig described the day he became committed to safety. We invited SafetyXChange members to share their defining moments. Last week, we ran Jim’s story. Here are Bill and Steve’s.
My Defining Moment
I worked for many years in the meat packing industry. (There’s an industry with a history of “accidents are inevitable...” culture.) I spent many years working in the role of shop steward trying to make my workplace better for the workers.
A number of years ago, I was standing at my job station when I felt a steel tank full of meat nudge up against me. I thought the pallet truck operator was trying to be funny. Quickly, I was pinned up against the table with the pallet truck driving the tank into me from behind, crushing my pelvis then upper legs against the steel frame of the conveyor table. I heard screaming and couldn’t believe the sounds were actually coming from me.
When I was lying on the ground waiting for the ambulance, the pallet truck operator told me that the emergency bump switch must have shorted out. He placed the load behind me and as he pulled away the drive wheel reversed direction and he couldn’t stop it. (The emergency bump switch is a safety device that causes the pallet truck to drive away from an object by reversing the drive for several seconds should the driver run into something with the steering mechanism. This is to ensure it doesn’t pin the driver.)
Not having much of a safety background at the time, I just thought I had been unlucky. Fortunately, I hadn’t broken any bones so I was able to return to work in a few weeks. After I got back to work, the Safety Manager brought me a copy of the completed accident report, in which one of the major conclusions was that the pallet truck was poorly maintained (a systemic problem at our plant). I never would have thought of looking that far into it at the time. I just assumed they would repair it and carry on. Several other items were identified and dealt with as well.
A few years later, I became involved as an OHS committee member, then eventually went to school and became a Safety Officer. One of the classes I took required me to interview three safety professionals. And one of the questions I asked was, “what was your defining moment?” It was only as I wrote my report that I realized what mine had been!
I would encourage everyone to go back and think about your defining moment or ‘moment of truth’ as a source of motivation when things seem tough.
I’m happy to report that we made major strides in improving the health and safety program and culture at my former place of employment.
Bill Bennett
*****
How I “Got It”
I first entered the safety field on a part-time basis. As an Air Force officer, I had to take on “additional duties”. Someone asked if I was interested in being the squadron safety officer. It sounded OK to me. It was the beginning of a career that has lasted over 30 years (so far). It was rewarding work, but I didn’t really become truly committed until I had left the service.
I was working at a cement company as the safety director. An employee ran into my office and shouted that “Fred” fell out of ball mill #1. Ball mills crush cement and other materials. They are cylindrical in shape and are loaded with steel balls that do the crushing, as the mill rotates.
Periodically these mills require a “recharge.” Access panels are removed at the top and bottom of the mill. Employees enter and push the balls out of the bottom access hole. The balls would fall about 30 feet and land in a pile.
I caught several employees walking on top of the mill, climbing in, and pushing out balls with no fall protection. Needless to say, I shut down the operation immediately. I contacted the supervisor. We planned out the procedure, obtained the necessary equipment, and trained the employees how to use them.
One employee in particular (the aforementioned Fred) complained angrily, saying he had worked there for 30 years, had never used such equipment, and had never fallen. As far as he was concerned, it was a complete waste of time.
When the co-worker rushed into my office, saying Fred had fallen out of the mill, I pictured him lying on top of the pile of steel balls, 30 feet below the mill. I was sure I had a fatality on my hands. When I arrived, Fred was sitting in a chair, obviously very shaken, but alive. He just wanted to get back to work. He had worn the fall protection equipment, and it had saved his life, but he would never admit it. He was too embarrassed.
As for me, I finally “got it.” I understood how truly valuable my work was. I had actually saved someone’s life by stopping a potentially disastrous situation, planning a task, providing equipment, and training employees. In this business, we don’t often see the results of what we do. I began to wonder how many other lives I might have saved over the years.
I received no awards, no promotion, no raise, not even a “thank you” from the employee or his family, but I was truly rewarded, just knowing that he had lived.
I’ve thought about that incident over the years. It keeps me going at times when the day-to-day activities don’t seem to accomplish much. I guess I’ll never know, this side of Heaven, what I’ve accomplished, but at least now I have an idea.
Steve Hughes
