Lockout/Tagout

While working in construction, safety required a lockout/tagout procedure for certain items. One that always required the procedure was work that involved electricity. This insured a circuit couldn't become energized when work was on, or around, electrical equipment. That, or something that could move when electricity was supplied was prevented from that movement. These were the obvious reasons for the procedure, but one event really caught my attention after all involved didn't foresee something important. 

We were working on a large rail car dumping machine. In design, it was simple. The large frame supported the loaded rail car, which weighed around 200,000 pounds, and the bolt on gears that meshed with the gear reduction drive powered by an electric motor. Hydraulic stops came down during the dumping to keep the car from sliding down into the pit.

 The machine was designed to allow the cars to come in at grade, which meant much of it, and the drive assembly, were in a large pit. In the pit were a crusher for the product, a retaining wall, part of a sloped conveyor, and the drive assembly. A blower kept a steady stream of air to help keep the pit clear. The entire assembly, including the large concrete counter weights, sat on two large pillow-block bearings. The bearings had brass sleeves that were considered wear parts. Constant greasing was required, but even with the grease, the sleeves would eventually wear and need replacing.  That was our project. We were to replace the sleeves. 

From what I was told, the process had been done years ago, but a very large crane was used to lift the dumper for removing the weight on the bearings. For some reason, and I suspect some personal opinions were involved, we were to use the equipment in the facility to jack the dumper high enough to service the bearings, instead of the expensive crane. 

I can only write that it was a grueling, nasty project, since the material that was dumped was raw petroleum coke. It was sent from local refineries by rail, and the facility calcined the coke for different product, including the large anodes for aluminum smelting. Long, hot days accented the project, and nothing we removed, the cribbing, or the jacks, was light, or what anyone would call clean. Much of it required a small forklift we placed in the pit with a crane. Pinching, crushing, smashing, and bumping body parts was always a threat, and everyone had to keep their head on a swivel to avoid being the damage from a mistake. 

Access to the pit was down a ladder mounted to the concrete wall. It didn't have a cage, which inspired this post. Normally, a ladder that is taller than a few feet has a cage. It prevents completely falling backward from a ladder, and gives a connection point for a harness. They are more than necessary, and in the past, when climbing a taller ladder, I felt much safer knowing I had more to grab onto if I lost my footing. 

When the car was dumped, there was only about two feet between the swinging machinery and the ladder. Access to the pit was never allowed without a lockout tagout procedure that guaranteed the electricity was isolated, and the assembly was allowed to freewheel into it's balanced position. That was all complete before we started, but member of the company crew that were involved with original changing of the sleeves had a story to tell. 

They were preparing for the process, the crew was preparing to remove some equipment to allow the dumper to be lifted, and someone thought about what they hadn't done. The brake needed to be released to allow the dumper to seek it's static balance...so they did. 

In a normal lockout tagout procedure, energy is removed, and that includes stored energy, such as a car dumper seeking static balance. This is completed when nobody can be injured by the process. Failing to do so can lead to some dangerous situations.

One of the crew, I'll call him Gene, which happened to be what can only be described as a large man, was on the ladder and nobody noticed, didn't think about was about to happen, or really didn't care for the man (I didn't care for him either, he was a constant ass-kissing annoyance). The brake was released, the entire dumper swung down, and Gene sucked everything in hoping it was enough. It was, but not by much, and the event still haunted him. Getting crushed by something big enough to dump a loaded rail car is a sobering thought. 

We completed the project, I imagine our less expensive maintenance procedure allowed an engineer to put a feather in their cap. I was glad to think going home didn't mean a long time washing off the grime accumulated during the day. Petroleum coke is a nasty thing to deal with, and it takes days to sweat out what accumulates in the pores. White underwear is a waste of money, since it becomes gray after working in the facility.  The carbon doesn't wash completely away, and can even cloud glass after a long period of time.

As for Gene, years later, he managed to injure himself by not following a safety procedure. He eventually returned to work, but the last I heard, he wasn't working there any longer.