Regarding your story “Disposable
workers of the oil and gas fields,” I work in the oilfields
now; I’m a derrick hand (HCN, 4/2/07). While I respect anyone
with 50 years in the fields, I also say “crap” to the
perceived value of “safety meetings.” I have to write
at least one job description report and one near miss/stop report
each shift; everyone on the shift has to sign it. We often
don’t even remember what it was about. It’s only there
for looks.
If the safety of employees were a major
concern, then why do we always have to cut corners for production?
Last night, no stop on the catwalk but I was told to “chain
off” the pipe and then was not allowed to grab a
“boomer” to do it properly. A procedure, I assure you,
that would have taken me less than a minute to complete. Of course,
the pipe shot out and landed 12 feet off the catwalk; no one batted
an eye. For those that don’t know, it was what’s called
a 20-pound pipe, meaning it weighs 20 pounds a foot, and it was 31
feet long. It fell 50 feet and slid another 45 before stopping;
anything even close to in the way would have been dead.
When a crown falls down and kills two men because of metal fatigue,
and the companies’ total liability is less than the cost of a
decent house, something’s wrong. Two men died this summer
because a 35-year-old rig wasn’t properly inspected and
literally collapsed under what many would agree were normal
operating parameters.
I like my job. I’m damn good
at it, but, it seems, more and more, I feel like I’m working
for a serial killer.
Rick Ellington
Pampa, Texas
This article appeared in the print edition of the magazine with the headline Working for a serial killer?.
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