Blow It Up

Here’s a mining story from my time at Dal-Tile that involves blowing up a hill!

We were invited to an annual mining training event (required MSHA training) at our talc mine in Van Horn, Texas. To get there, we had to fly to El Paso and then drive 120 miles in the middle of nowhere to our mining operations. Once we got there, we met Junior, the mining operator. He had spent his life out in the hot Texas sun and you could tell it by the condition of his skin. He lived on the mining property with his wife in a trailer and was one of the nicest people I have ever met.

After a day of training, we went out to dinner and spent the evening sharing stories, drinking, and dancing. Wayne, my boss, tried a shot of vodka with tabasco sauce on top and forgot to open his lips wide enough to avoid the burn. We all had a laugh at that.

On the second day, after a few hours of training, we were treated to a mining demonstration. We were going to clear some overgrowth on a hill by blowing it up. The only things I had blown up in the past were fireworks on the Fourth of July, so I was excited to see how it was done.

When we got to the hill, we were told there were 159 sticks of dynamite placed in three rows. They would be used to clear the growth and expose the talc for mining. Wayne and I got the opportunity to string the fuse through some of the sticks, while being assured by the mining operator we were perfectly safe to do so. I strung two sticks. Wayne was having such a good time, he strung around a dozen.

Then we were asked if we wanted to light the fuse to blow up the hill. I knew I did, and Wayne deferred to me. Since I had never blown anything up of this magnitude, I asked the operator what safety precautions we should follow. He pointed out the two vans with the motors running. Each one had enough capacity to take all of us away, should one of the vans fail.

Next, he told me the fuse between the sticks of dynamite took milliseconds to burn, but the main fuse I would be lighting had enough time on it to get us into the vans and approximately ½ mile away, where we would be safe.

I was a bit nervous, but I told myself the mining operator had done this many times before, so I would try to hide my anxiety. My natural inclination was to run as soon as the fuse was lit, but I thought that would make me look silly. So, I decided to do whatever the mining operator did. If he walked, I would walk. If he ran, well then …

He lit a cigarette, took two puffs and handed it to me. I bent down, held the cigarette to the fuse, and watched it light. Time stood still. I cleared my head and saw the mining operator walking slowly to the van. And that’s what I did. Wayne ran like a scared child and jumped into the van.

Once we were all in the van, we drove to the other side of the site and watched as the 159 sticks of dynamite exploded with a precision that took the face of the hill down exactly as planned.

We got back to the training room and poked fun at Wayne and any of the other folks who ran to the van. I would have too, but I had convinced myself to not panic. Was this the right call? I don’t know, but at least I had some fun at my boss’ expense!

These days, I work with teams to develop standard work to keep them safe and productive. To be sustainable, it needs to make sense to them. Although I don’t recommend lighting a fuse with a cigarette, it worked for the mining operator in Van Horn Texas.