Safety before Cement: My Summer at a Cement Plant

When I first heard that I would be working at a cement plant for the summer, I began psyching myself for the experience. It would supposedly be a lot of nasty work. I would be waking up at 5:45 in the morning every week day, I would be working hard with my hands, and I would do whatever messed up job they could produce. In a very simple way of explaining it, my idea of normal daily life was about to get drastically altered.

The first morning was probably the worst. After comfortable dreams, I was awakened by my alarm clock. The most annoying devise in the world, it beeped persistently for several minutes before I forced myself out of bed. What made the alarm clock so terrifying was its agonizing chant. I could hear it in every loud “BEEP”. “Three more months,” “Three more months,” “Three more months,” It seemed to say over and over again. “Yeah, yeah,” I thought. Before my ears exploded, I walked over and flipped the off switch. Peaceful silence ensued. Then, I remembered why I was up. Sighing to myself I dressed, strapped on my boots, and walked up stairs to fry some eggs. For most of the summer, this was my routine. More monotonous then anything I had ever encountered, this ritual became dreaded Déjàvu.

The drive was always nice. Being in the car, feeling it shake gently, and listening to talk radio, always woke me up in a friendly way. During that time I was able to see the beautiful orange sun rising slowly into the sky and feel the cool morning breeze through the open window. It’s safe to say that those quite minutes to myself before work was an important part of preparing me to face each day.

Rolling into the parking lot, I was always met by a sign which read “Safety before cement.” This was more then just a phrase. It was something every employee had to consider during the day. When out working in the plant each person needed to first understand the dangers involved in his task. Then he needed to act accordingly to avoid injury or death. One way everyone avoided certain dangers was through something we called PPE. “Personal Protective Equipment”, a helmet, a reflective vest, safety glasses, and steel-toed boots, was required at all times. These would save me from injury several times during the summer

Once parked, I would make my way through the double glass doors that marked the entrance to the Lafarge office area. Down a hall past several offices, followed by a left, and then a right would lead me into the break room. There to greet me with tired downcast faces were the three companions I was destined to be with throughout the summer. Corey, Brandon, and Erik were all hired along with me as summer interns. Like me, they had dreams of becoming something more then cement workers. Starting college, attending College, or finishing an associate degree, the three were only working that summer for higher academic purposes. Essentially, like me, they need money for college.

At this point as the clock struck 6:55, everyone in the break room would grab their PPE and head towards the control room for a safety meeting. There, we discussed different hazards to avoid and the assignments we needed to accomplish for that day. The meeting usually lasted five to ten minutes in which time we leaned against our respective wall willing the day to be over. After the meeting finished, we would either receive instructions from our supervisor, Terri Van Winkle, or a Control-Room Supervisor. As a general rule, we always looked forward to assignments from Terri Van Winkle who usually gave us less strenuous work like sweeping or light shoveling. As another general rule, we never enjoyed assignments directly from control. These consisted of heavy shoveling and Jack hammering.

Though life out in the cement plant was a doozy, working with three other guys made the work load somewhat easier. First thing we would do upon leaving the office building was grab our equipment; shovel, broom, and sometimes Jack hammer, and trot off toward our assigned work area where we would spend the rest of the day working.

Each work area had its own name. Behind the office building was the pan conveyor. A large belt on rollers, the pan conveyor carried different materials from one section of the plant to the other. We found that a lot of our work centered there. Shop thirty-five also had a conveyor in it that carried raw materials throughout the plant. This too was another of our central work places. Shop Forty-seven resting against one of the cement silos was the pan conveyors pit stop. There, materials were carried through a bucket conveyor, a vertical conveyor, up into one of the silos. These silos, four in number, held different types of cement used to fill large cement trucks. To the left of the office building sat a large green tower where material was burned at over 3000 degrees Celsius. Our work there, several hundred feet in the air, was always very warm from the burners.

Down a dirt road that wound throughout the plant, under the ground through a mine and out on the other side of a large hill, lay what was known as the old plant. The fifty year old plant, still operational but only half functional, was a maze of dark corridors rusted equipment and dirty rooms. It was a desolate as it was intriguing. We four guys enjoyed anytime we could spend over in that area away from other people. There we were mostly assigned to what was known as the finish mill. A seven story rusted structure, dimly lit and very loud, the finish mill provided us with light easy work. We would bring brooms to sweep up piles of excess cement, shovels to pick up the piles, and buckets to dump the piles down different shoots. These shoots would carry the cement into silos.

Our jobs were many and very diverse. Sometimes we would sweep and broom out different buildings. Other times we would jack hammer hardened piles of cement until our hands rung from the vibrations. Other days we were assigned tasks only requiring one of us. During one of these assignments when the plant was shut down for maintenance, I was sent up into the tower as a “Whole Watch”. There, I was assigned to watch one of the maintenance workers weld on the inside of one of the burners. As I watched, I held a small device that tested the different chemical levels inside the burner. If oxygen levels fell lower then 19 percent or rose higher then 23 percent I was required to get the welder out into open air.

For three months my life and dreams were cement related. I learned what my life might be like without a college degree. I learned how to wake up early, how to endure through a hard work day, and how to get along with three other guys. Life at Lafarge was not all fun and games, but I believe it strengthened me mentally and physically as I earned couple of calluses along the way.