In this article we present statistics on workplace injuries in Washington. Then we share testimonies from five local men who work dangerous jobs:
- Tim Sears, firefighter, Kirkland
- John Murray, pipe-layer, Spokane
- Michael Solis, roofer, Spokane
- James Tidwell, industrial painter, Spokane
- Michael Allan, firefighter & professional football player, Kirkland
Whether for a paycheck or a calling
Most dangerous occupations are overwhelmingly staffed by men. These jobs — which sometimes go unnoticed and unappreciated — are essential for modern society to function. We are grateful for all Washingtonians who put their lives at risk when they head to work, whether they do it solely for a paycheck or because they view their jobs as a calling.
According to the Department of Labor and Industries, there were 400 fatal occupational injuries in Washington between 2017 and 2021 (the five most recent years for which data are available). In other words, 400 people were killed while earning money to provide for themselves and their families. Of those 400, 358 (90%) were our sons, brothers, dads, uncles, grandpas, boyfriends, and husbands.
The following occupations see the highest numbers of workplace deaths in Washington:
- transportation and material moving
- construction and extraction
- installation, maintenance, and repair
- farming, fishing, and forestry
- protective services (firefighters, police, security guards)
- building and grounds cleaning and maintenance
Men also experience the majority of nonfatal workplace injuries. In private industry between 2017 and 2020, men accounted for 72,160 occupational injuries and illnesses involving days away from work, or 61% of such occurrences.
Testimonies from men who work dangerous jobs
We spoke with five men who currently or previously worked in dangerous occupations. Reading their firsthand accounts can improve our ability to understand, empathize with, and appreciate people who face the risk of injury and death when they go to work.
Tim Sears, former Kirkland firefighter
Firefighting is one of the most honorable careers, but it’s also one of the most dangerous. As both firefighters and EMTs we deal with sicknesses, injuries, fires, and rescues of all kinds. Every call we go on could be our last. We are prepared to help people on their worst days, and we have to be ready to handle that mentally and physically. We are trained to think, plan, and act, and to be ready for anything that comes our way. Yet firefighters have among the highest rates of injuries, illnesses, cancers, and suicides.
See related: How Does Mental Health and Suicide Affect First Responders? [5-min video]
At one house fire where I worked there was thick smoke in the air and visibility was poor. My crew was instructed to start pulling down the ceiling so we could find the fire’s source. I reached as high as I could to place my pike pole hook in the gypsum board above me. Then an 8′ x 4′ section of the ceiling released, and it came down on top of me. I didn’t see it coming.
The next thing I knew I was lying in a hospital. I couldn’t see at first, and I had a massive headache. They said I was knocked unconscious by the falling debris. I have no memory of the accident. I was out of work for six months with a major concussion.
When you’re fighting fires you never know when something like that can happen to you.
John Murray, pipe-layer in Spokane
Pipe-laying is dangerous work. I’ve dislocated my shoulder. Broken my back. Got a hernia. It’s a good-paying job that provides well for my family, and I’m thankful for it. It’s also an important job. If pipes break or are poorly installed, water and sewer systems can come to a halt.
Eighteen inch ductile iron pipe at 20 feet a stick — that’s 1,200 pounds you’re rolling and balancing. It’s insanely physically demanding. You’re shoveling all day long to maintain proper grade. With the excavator digging right next to me and metal smashing metal all day long, ear plugs are a must. My family says I talk too loudly now.
I need to communicate very precisely with the guys operating massive machinery right next to me. On any given day injury is possible. When you’re working in trenches cave-ins are always a risk. I’ve heard horror stories about guys getting crushed by a car when a driver doesn’t pay attention and barrels through a road closed sign.
Summers are when my kids are out of school and have the most free time. That’s also the busiest time of the year for a pipe-layer in Washington. It’s 12-hour days minimum, whether under the beating sun or in the cold and rain. I don’t love that I don’t see my kids enough. I don’t love hearing that I’m never home.
A lot of guys get laid off during the coldest three to four months, when the ground is frozen. I think all that downtime, combined with the aches and pains in our bodies, contributes to the higher rates of substance abuse and addiction among construction workers like me.
Michael Solis, former roofer in Spokane
I spent six months as a roofer. On Day 1 it was “Here’s a shovel, now climb this ladder (unsupported), pry off the shingles, and toss them over the side into the bin”. There were no safety briefings. There were no harnesses. They didn’t give us a hard hat, gloves, knee pads, or safety glasses.
Those pneumatic nail guns will put a nail right through your hand or your foot if you’re not careful. One time I was working on a roof and my left leg punctured straight through an opening and I fell in down to my crotch. If the hole had been bigger I’d have been in real trouble.
The company was too lax about safety. There wasn’t proper supervision. I had a strong feeling I would get hurt eventually, so I switched jobs once I could find something safer.
James Tidwell, industrial painter in Spokane
I’ve been an industrial painter for four years. We paint bridges, dams, tanks, vaults, and tunnels. A lot of the things we paint nobody ever sees. The coating we apply is really important, though, because it prevents rusting, corrosion, and other forms of deterioration. It extends the lifespan of the structures and equipment we paint.
It’s standard for us to wear respirators, gloves, hardhats, ear plugs, and safety goggles.
Two years into this work, I was involved in an accident. A guy on my crew made a mistake, and I got sandblasted…in the face. That was really rough and scary. Picture a firehose, but instead of water jetting out it’s tiny shattered pieces of rock and glass that hit me.
Before I knew it, I was on the ground bleeding from parts of my neck, face, and head. At the hospital they scrubbed my face, picked things out of my eyes, and sent me home. I was off work for a week after that. If it weren’t for my protective equipment it would have been more severe. I would have lost my eyesight and probably my hearing.
We use paint thinners and lead paint. That’s harmful stuff to inhale or touch. I use a special cream on my hands and forearms that creates a barrier to prevent chemicals from getting to my skin.
Sometimes I see guys on the crew not being as careful about safety as I am. Maybe they’re not wearing their respirator, ear plugs, or safety glasses. Or they get paint all over their hands and aren’t really concerned about it. This is dangerous work. So many people in this line of work — and in construction generally — have died. In an OSHA safety class I took recently, they said a typical industrial painter only lives 2-3 years beyond retirement. That really surprised me.
See related: Joyful Spokane Dad James Tidwell Reunites With Kids After 6 Years Apart
Michael Allan, Kirkland firefighter and former professional football player
When the station tones go off, we need to be ready for anything and everything. Between fighting fires, managing car accidents, and assisting with aid calls, firefighters are faced with a constant unknown.
Hollywood shows that the collapse or explosion of a burning building is a possibility. Through best practices and consistent training firefighters have dramatically reduced our risk of getting caught up in a catastrophic event like that. The daily wear-and-tear on our bodies, though, and injuries from lifting debris, hauling gear, or extricating patients – it takes a toll. And the possibility of severe injuries always looms.
There is constant risk of toxic exposure. Carcinogens in the air, on our skin, on our gear, on our breathing apparatus, on our vehicles – these harm us and can eventually kill us. Thankfully it is no longer a point of pride or a sign of toughness to come home wearing soot on your face. We now know that is dangerous and causes cancer. We take the cleaning of our bodies and our gear very seriously. And we do it efficiently so we’re ready to respond again as quickly as possible.
In my five years I’ve seen that mental health is a major issue too. We are called to all kinds of emergencies. Often it’s the worst moment of someone’s life. Major traumas, loss of property, crippling illness, the death of loved ones. Seeing this day-in and day-out breaks us down. We will always do our best to provide care and compassion toward our community, and we devote our energy and passion to serving. But the sights, sounds, and smells all stick around when the call is over. It can ‘overfill our buckets’, as we say, which results in debilitating mental states for firefighters, including depression, anxiety, and suicide. It is the exposure to sick patients and death that wears us down emotionally over the course of a 20+ year career.
For those of us who live in the same communities where we work there are other challenges. We see our grocery store differently once we’ve witnessed a tragic incident there. We avoid intersections where we remember major car accidents. We see people in the community whose loved ones we were unable to save. We are never quite off-duty.
We debrief our experiences as a crew and have peer support outlets, but there is still mental fatigue. Most of us can’t take our stories home. Those outside the fire station can’t relate, and we don’t want to put that burden on them anyway. Many of us feel we cannot talk about things as it might be seen as a sign of weakness or “softness”. We are heroes, after all, we cannot be weak…
Professional football
As far as my football career, yes — football is a brutally physical sport. Severe injuries happen. Thankfully I never tore an ACL or busted a shoulder, but I knew plenty of guys who did. I do have nagging injuries that still linger: broken fingers, sore joints, and neck and back pain from years of impact.
Trying to make it in the NFL was tough mentally too. There is a unique life-balance challenge in the professional sports world. You’re aware you can get cut or injured at any time – and it will all be over. This forces you to have tunnel vision toward the goal of making the team. That impacts the way you handle life outside of sports: relationships, finances, mental health. You can’t afford to be soft. To show weakness. Or be emotional. You need to be that stereotypical strong man who gets the job done. There is no time or place for letting down your guard. It’s a constant state of heightened stress.
Conclusion
According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, the ten most dangerous occupations measured by the fatal injury rate are (starting with the most dangerous):
- Logging
- Fishing and hunting
- Roofing
- Aircraft pilot
- Iron and steel work
- Truck driving
- Refuse and recycling collecting
- Mining
- Construction
- Electrical power line work
In the U.S. workforce over 90% of those in the occupations above are male, with the exception of refuse and recycling collectors, 88% of whom are male.
We see these men for the human beings they are, and we appreciate them.