Work Doesn't Have to Be Deadly (Part 1)
In “America’s 10 Deadliest Jobs” Forbes Magazine writer Jacqueline Smith says, “If your work day sometimes seems to consist of nothing but boring meetings, coffee spills, and computer glitches, consider yourself lucky.”
The article references the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) Census of Fatal Occupational Injuries, released August 2013, reporting a preliminary total of 4,383 fatal work injuries in the United States in 2012. The number is down from 4,693 fatal work injuries in 2011. In addition to the obvious tragic consequences for the families and friends of the workers, the impact of injuries, lost time accidents, and fatalities also hurts the bottom line of businesses.
The top ten listed in order are:
I worked for years in two of the top ten -- trucking and construction. I was on those jobs when fatalities were recorded in each of them, and now that I make my living as a consultant and trainer, I agree with the author: I consider myself lucky.
In the early 1980’s, I was employed by a national trucking company as a dock freight worker. We were required to obtain a commercial drivers license after a probationary period. Training included the use of company equipment on our own time. Within a year I qualified to drive a 16-or 18-wheel semi, and tandem or double trailer trucks. I also worked as a yard hostler, the person that made up, broke down, and spotted rigs for loading and unloading.
As this was a union shop, seniority dictated job preference shifts and titles. After five years driving inner city, you were eligible to bid for an over the road position. Just shy of my five the company closed its doors. I liked night shifts. From time to time I could drive a loaded rig to the town of Belen where the drivers from El Paso would stop and we would “trade seats.” The El Paso drivers spent 4 hours to get there and 4 hours return made their 8-hour shift. From time to time I could do this once or twice a night. A friend of mine, Greg, had much greater seniority than me and traditionally was the first to be offered the run. Greg was a good worker, fun to be around, and knew the industry. One night I arrived for my shift and a co-worker asked me if I had "heard about Greg." The night before, his truck ran off the road at a corner and he died. Thinking he was kidding, I said I thought his “joke” was in really bad taste. Moments later I learned he was not joking.
That same night, I was told to unload the trailer Greg’s tractor was hauling. This trailer was forty-five feet long and at ten-foot intervals I stopped so a dock foreman could photograph and document the load.
At lunch break, I walked the yard to find the tractor my friend was driving. As I climbed into the cab I noticed the damage was mostly on the passenger side. The steering wheel was deformed, the cab was slightly crushed, the window was smashed and there was a lot of dirt inside.
Officially the vehicle was approaching a long left turn when the driver lost control and the truck plowed into a soft embankment flooding the cab with dirt. Greg, had not been wearing a seat belt, and was thrown to the passenger side, where the dirt that plowed into the cab buried and suffocated him.
As I sat in the driver's seat, I cursed my lost friend. What the hell was he thinking and why didn't he have his seat belt on? This crash was survivable. Greg did not need to die. I went back to the night’s work of unloading the trailer. In the forward part a very heavy piece of machinery was laying over on its right side and I noticed no sign of ripped tie-downs on the left.
In truck loading you load the heaviest items tied down to the driver's left. On a long left turn, the unexpected shift of a heavy item in the trailer could cause a driver to overreact, counter-steer, and roll the whole rig to the right. The unit I unloaded in Greg’s truck was certainly heavy enough to have done that.
Early in my truck-loading career I was known as “Mr. Outbound.” I loved loading as fast and furious as I could. There were some rules to follow. Heavy items to the left, no more than one thousand pounds per foot, and light freight loads high. The interstate trailers went through DOT weigh stations, and an overloaded trailer was bad news. They sat idle until an additional tractor and trailer was dispatched and the load made legal by unloading.
Intra-state was a different story. For a time I held the un-official dock record for loading sixty-nine thousand pounds on a forty-five foot trailer heading to Farmington. I have wondered for years if there was another “Mr. Outbound” in El Paso.
Greg was an excellent driver and had 25 years in the industry accident free to my knowledge. I miss him. Although many systemic issues contributed to the accident the bottom line is that “pilot error” -- not wearing a seat belt -- was the official reason my friend died.
The article references the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) Census of Fatal Occupational Injuries, released August 2013, reporting a preliminary total of 4,383 fatal work injuries in the United States in 2012. The number is down from 4,693 fatal work injuries in 2011. In addition to the obvious tragic consequences for the families and friends of the workers, the impact of injuries, lost time accidents, and fatalities also hurts the bottom line of businesses.
The top ten listed in order are:
- logging
- fishing
- pilots and flight engineers
- roofers
- structural iron and steel workers
- refuse and recyclable material collectors
- electrical power-line workers
- truck drivers
- farmers
- construction labor.
I worked for years in two of the top ten -- trucking and construction. I was on those jobs when fatalities were recorded in each of them, and now that I make my living as a consultant and trainer, I agree with the author: I consider myself lucky.
In the early 1980’s, I was employed by a national trucking company as a dock freight worker. We were required to obtain a commercial drivers license after a probationary period. Training included the use of company equipment on our own time. Within a year I qualified to drive a 16-or 18-wheel semi, and tandem or double trailer trucks. I also worked as a yard hostler, the person that made up, broke down, and spotted rigs for loading and unloading.
As this was a union shop, seniority dictated job preference shifts and titles. After five years driving inner city, you were eligible to bid for an over the road position. Just shy of my five the company closed its doors. I liked night shifts. From time to time I could drive a loaded rig to the town of Belen where the drivers from El Paso would stop and we would “trade seats.” The El Paso drivers spent 4 hours to get there and 4 hours return made their 8-hour shift. From time to time I could do this once or twice a night. A friend of mine, Greg, had much greater seniority than me and traditionally was the first to be offered the run. Greg was a good worker, fun to be around, and knew the industry. One night I arrived for my shift and a co-worker asked me if I had "heard about Greg." The night before, his truck ran off the road at a corner and he died. Thinking he was kidding, I said I thought his “joke” was in really bad taste. Moments later I learned he was not joking.
That same night, I was told to unload the trailer Greg’s tractor was hauling. This trailer was forty-five feet long and at ten-foot intervals I stopped so a dock foreman could photograph and document the load.
At lunch break, I walked the yard to find the tractor my friend was driving. As I climbed into the cab I noticed the damage was mostly on the passenger side. The steering wheel was deformed, the cab was slightly crushed, the window was smashed and there was a lot of dirt inside.
Officially the vehicle was approaching a long left turn when the driver lost control and the truck plowed into a soft embankment flooding the cab with dirt. Greg, had not been wearing a seat belt, and was thrown to the passenger side, where the dirt that plowed into the cab buried and suffocated him.
As I sat in the driver's seat, I cursed my lost friend. What the hell was he thinking and why didn't he have his seat belt on? This crash was survivable. Greg did not need to die. I went back to the night’s work of unloading the trailer. In the forward part a very heavy piece of machinery was laying over on its right side and I noticed no sign of ripped tie-downs on the left.
In truck loading you load the heaviest items tied down to the driver's left. On a long left turn, the unexpected shift of a heavy item in the trailer could cause a driver to overreact, counter-steer, and roll the whole rig to the right. The unit I unloaded in Greg’s truck was certainly heavy enough to have done that.
Early in my truck-loading career I was known as “Mr. Outbound.” I loved loading as fast and furious as I could. There were some rules to follow. Heavy items to the left, no more than one thousand pounds per foot, and light freight loads high. The interstate trailers went through DOT weigh stations, and an overloaded trailer was bad news. They sat idle until an additional tractor and trailer was dispatched and the load made legal by unloading.
Intra-state was a different story. For a time I held the un-official dock record for loading sixty-nine thousand pounds on a forty-five foot trailer heading to Farmington. I have wondered for years if there was another “Mr. Outbound” in El Paso.
Greg was an excellent driver and had 25 years in the industry accident free to my knowledge. I miss him. Although many systemic issues contributed to the accident the bottom line is that “pilot error” -- not wearing a seat belt -- was the official reason my friend died.
