Tragic Loss of 5 Young Men Turned Their Families into Job-Safety Activists
When tragedy tore Linda Link’s life apart, she struggled with anguish, then anger. Finally, she turned her emotions into action.
She took up the fight for worker safety. It is little solace for the loss of her son, Jeff, who died in an accident on the job, but she is devoted to the cause. So are her comrades who share her sorrow.
One is Edna Freeze. Her son, Bill, died trying to save Jeff.
And there is Bob Hensinger. His son, Larry, was also killed in the rescue attempt.
And Sue Irish’s son, Barney, died when he rushed to help the others.
And Brenda Fogle. Her son, Craig, the last man to come to the others’ aid, also died. After two days in a coma, his respirator was turned off.
Five families buried sons, their futures unfulfilled. Now, more than a year after the young men--ages 19 to 29--succumbed to toxic fumes at Bastian Plating Co., their parents are writing letters, calling lawmakers, rallying--and pleading, “Never again.”
“If we can do any good, it gives us the satisfaction to know that the boys didn’t die in vain,” Link said. “We can’t bring them back, but in their name, we can maybe help make it so these things don’t happen ever again. And it gives us something to think about other than the tragedy.”
“You’re hoping you’ll change things . . . you’ll get people to listen,” Hensinger said. “It’s always worth a try. Only a fool sits back and does nothing.”
The families’ demands are modest. No sweeping changes. Just a little more caution and a lot more accountability from employers.
“Even if one factory would be really safe, that would make us feel good,” Freeze said.
The campaigners were brought together by the June 28, 1988, tragedy at Bastian, where Jeff was overcome by hydrogen cyanide fumes while cleaning a holding tank. Bill, a plant worker for only four weeks, and Larry, climbed in to help, investigators were told.
Barney, once Bill’s schoolmate, valiantly tried to save them, according to accounts. Then Craig, the last rescuer, slid down the side of the tank and struck his head, his mother said.
The workers did not know there was zinc cyanide residue in the tank, said David Bear of the Indiana Occupational Safety and Health Administration. Muriatic acid, a dilute form of hydrochloric acid, was the cleaning agent, he said, and the mixture produced the toxic gas.
Indiana OSHA fined Bastian $41,700, claiming that it had not provided adequate training, respirators or rescue equipment--such as a lifeline for pulling the workers out of the tank. It also had not conducted air tests in the tank before anyone entered it.
Bastian has contested the “knowing” violations and paid the remainder of fines that total $1,700. It has refused to comment since it released a statement shortly after the accident saying: “We are sorry that it took a tragedy of these proportions to focus attention on the issue of industrial safety.”
The parents say they knew their sons’ job could be hazardous; they came home with burns on their arms and legs. Larry once told his ex-wife, “ ‘If I don’t get out, the job’s going to kill me,’ ” his father said. “I took it as a figure of speech.”
After the accident, the families said Bastian made a terrible situation worse by not telling them how it had happened.
“We need answers,” Irish said. “A lot of them.”
A worker safety watchdog group asked DeKalb County Prosecutor Monte Brown to convene a grand jury probe of the accident, but he refused to comment pending a report from the state Department of Environmental Management.
“Five guys went to work and expected to return home,” said Bill Groth, a leader of the watchdog group. “They didn’t. Something went drastically wrong.”
Their families are frustrated, he added. “They want to know why there was a delay in calling the ambulances. . . . They can’t find out what happened to their sons.”
With Groth’s guidance, the families began meeting with consumer groups, talking with reporters and lobbying for stronger OSHA enforcement, changes in worker compensation laws and measures to allow injured employees to sue employers who remove cautionary warnings or safety devices from machines.
“It’s a good catharsis for them,” Groth said. “We’ve encouraged them to channel emotions in a positive way, through political action.”
They also consulted a lawyer, Mike Kendall, about legal action, but with few exceptions, workers’ compensation is the exclusive remedy for on-the-job accidents.
Kendall said the families have been “radicalized” by the tragedy.
At the same time, they have learned a hard lesson in civics, discovering that government moves slowly and its agencies are hamstrung by rules, laws and dollars.
“I always thought OSHA inspected every place every year,” Freeze said. “They don’t have the money or the inspectors to do everything. . . . It’s going to have to be the employer that’s going to have to look out for his employees.”
“You get so many slaps in the face, all the things you find out,” Link said.
Workers’ compensation, for one.
Because Jeff was single, “all we got was $2,000 for funeral expenses,” Link said. “They don’t give you any compensation . . . for the love you lost . . . not that any amount of money can bring him back.”
Together, the families took flowers to the graves on the first anniversary of the accident. It helped, but anger remains.
“They had their whole lives ahead of them. None of them were married,” Fogle said. “You have so many hopes and dreams for your children. You never think you’re going to have to bury your children.”
