The Drill Press - A true Story

[Al_The_Man]

This was related today in the local paper.
I thought it may be a good lesson for the new year.
Al.
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Blame it on youthful ignorance or that standard rebellious streak that comes with the adolescent phase. Regardless, the consequences were real and the lack of attention led to the scars that I carry today on my arm, a reminder of an accident that almost claimed my life.

I had just started working at Versatile, a company that manufactures farm equipment. The job paid well enough but the work was very tedious and boring. Imagine drilling two holes at each end of small metal rods day after day with a seemingly endless supply of full containers lined down the aisle, guaranteeing at least two weeks of the same work. During those days, while my arms were working, my imagination carried me away to places that helped ease the boredom.

Every now and then, the company would hold a safety meeting in each department. They did this not only to satisfy safety requirements, but with a goal in mind -- to educate their workers on the merits of being safe around machinery.

On that particular day we happened to be the department holding the meeting. It usually was a dry presentation, showing us what we needed to do to be safe around the machines that we worked with. The lesson focused on the hazards of having loose clothing. Either from lack of sleep or just pure indifference, I was distracted during the meeting. I vaguely remember the presenter stating something about clothing sometimes getting caught up in the moving parts of machinery and causing serious injuries.

Being from a farm background, I had heard many stories of local farmers getting maimed and, sometimes, killed by being careless around their machines. Little did I know what awaited me after the meeting ended.

The foreman asked to speak to me. I was surprised when he told me to follow him to the biggest drill press in the building. This was the mother of all drill presses. Standing three metres high, almost a metre and a half wide, and powered by an electric motor that seemed as big as a small V-8 engine, this behemoth was an imposing machine. The drill bit alone was 30 centimetres in circumference.

He instructed me that I would now be working at this drill. He quickly showed me how it worked, explained what I had to do and left me to start the work. The procedure seemed relatively easy. It involved putting some thick metal plates on the table of the drill and then moving a lever to lower the drill bit, which would then lock onto a specific area on the metal plate.

Basically, it was an automatic process that only required that I spray some oil into the expanding hole that the drill was boring in order to not only preserve the bit but to quicken its progress.

The only problem was that, from time to time, some metal strips twisting out of the hole would catch the sleeve on my coveralls as I approached the hole to drop in some oil. When this happened, I would yank my arm back to detach the metal strips and continue on.

On one plate, however, as I reached to spray some oil, a sharp metal coil spiraled out of the hole and latched on to my hanging sleeve. I pulled back with force but this time the metal had imbedded itself into the fabric and the bit was now twisting the cloth material of my sleeve. I pulled with all my force but to no avail.

The sleeve was now a thick rope of twisted cloth. The next thing I knew I was being dragged onto the drill table. The moment was surreal. I started rotating around the drill table. Everything became a blur as the bit started tearing away at my clothes. My mind seemed to freeze for a millisecond and then panic set in.

The next thing I knew, a primal scream erupting out of my lungs. Between rotations I could see all the other workers at their stations with their ear mufflers on, working away on their machines, unaware of the trauma that I was going through. The noise in the building was so loud that no one could hear my screams.

It seemed like an eternity but suddenly the machine stopped. I later learned that I had fallen into the vision field of a worker in another department and his quick actions had saved my life.

It took more than 15 minutes for a group of workers to cut me off that bit, which had stripped all the clothes from my body and rolled them into a huge cloth ball, with me in the centre of it. When I finally stood up, I was naked except for one rolled-up shirt sleeve that had imbedded itself into the muscle tissue of my arm. The bit had created a tourniquet with the rolled-up sleeve that had eventually ruptured the skin. According to the people that assisted me, my throat would have been next. They also figured that once the drill had ripped all the clothes off my body, it would then have ripped the flesh off my bones.

As a precautionary measure, they called an ambulance, which drove right down the centre aisle of the building with its lights flashing and sirens blaring. I was off to the Victoria Hospital, where they inspected me and, except for that nasty gash on my arm, found I was relatively intact.

Wearing a hospital gown, I returned to the job site that day to get my car and fetch my gear. To my surprise, I noticed they had put my torn clothes on a big display board with a warning detailing the hazards of loose clothing around machinery. I also noticed the big press drill had been rewired with a highly accessible kill switch to prevent future accidents.

I have been careful around machinery ever since. I now know that a single second could change your fortunes forever. It was a lesson in life that has served me many times since.

Monday: A Not So Perfect

Autumn Evening

[Switcher]

I was in a OSHA safety meeting a few years back, the instructor shows us this video/photo (aftermath) of some assembly/automated machine that pulled a women thru an 8" opening.

Wasn't pretty...

[jeffrey001]

I know what you mean, this happened to me last year, not on a drill press but on a metal lathe, almost lost my arm but thanks, still have it, maybe at 50% but it is there.

This happened on November 2008 and did not return to work yet.

I will not be able to return as a machinist but they will try to find a job for me.

I am a 25 years experience machinist and this happened to me, you know, I had a glove and then ...

when I go to sleep, I think of that every time, hope this will change.

Have a nice day.

Jeff

[tobyaxis]

Sorry that happened to you but glad your here to share your learning experiences.

Not directed toward you but the Drill press no matter what size has the highest injury rate of all machines in a shop. Probably because it is the least respected machine.

Number two is a Lathe. I have seen injuries to coworkers on both. Others laugh but I show respect to all machinery no matter what size.

Thanks for the Reminder Al, tomorrow is Monday and I have had a few days off, so it will be a day of paying very close attention to the work being done and surroundings.

[TOTALLYRC]

We have safety meetings all the time and posters all over the plant.

Safety First.


We take it seriously.

You can now be disciplined or fired for a safety violation, especially if you get hurt.
I will say the bosses are very good about problems too. I have spoken up and said this is unsafe and guess what? The job comes to a halt and the repairs don't get done until the proper precautions are in place.

I too will be going to work in a few minutes after a 4 day vacation. I will make sure my eyes are open and my head is clear. I have 2 children and a loving wife to come home to. I hope everyone has a safe and happy new year.

Mike

[DouglasR]

Thanks for sharing Al.

In 30 years of metalworking I only fired someone once - for playing with an airhose while running a lathe.

I've posted elsewhere on the site, that my dad nearly got killed when he carelessly cranked up a 40 hp CNC lathe and ejected a large casting from the machine.

[ImanCarrot]

I will not allow anyone near my machines unless they have short sleeves, tie off, rings off, watch off, necklaces off etc. Ive seen horror safety videos of what machinery can do.

I regard my machines as intelligent evil entities that don't like working and are just waiting for that one revenge opportunity to show what steel can do to flesh and bone.

I kick them now and then just to remind me that they're the enemy.