Five years ago, I nearly died in a massive fire with two of my operators.
Leadership counted what they could see: production lost, injuries recorded, days offline. But they never counted the real cost—the workers who quit because they were scared. The PTSD therapy bills. The spouses who needed their own counseling. The nightmares that still wake my coworkers.
The managers who made the decisions that day? They’ve all moved on to other sites, other roles. But my operators are still here. Still carrying the weight of that fire in our bodies, our families, our community.
To every frontline worker comparing scars, bearing the hidden costs of our hazardous work—I see what you pay. You are not alone.
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