“Let’s be careful out there.” That’s the line police sergeant Phil Esterhaus would say to his officers on the TV show “Hill Street Blues” after they were all given their assignments at roll call and were heading out to the streets. “Be careful out there” is also a statement made by just about every tree care business owner or manager. But what is the reality?

Harlie Raethel/Unsplash

We’ve all seen the tree-crew members without eye or hearing protection feeding a chipper, or workers without chaps running a chain saw on the ground. They’re out there today. In those cases, it’s easy to say that the owner’s words about being safe run shallow. The sooner those companies are held accountable, the better for the individuals involved and the industry in general.

What then are the situations where crews are sent out with all the personal protective equipment (PPE), but are running an unsafe operation? Are crews being pushed too hard, working long hours in high heat? Are non-CDL drivers driving CDL trucks? Are people given jobs where their skill levels don’t meet the complexity of the job?

We all know tree work is dangerous, but that’s even more reason why we must always hold ourselves to the highest safety standards. If you’re the owner or manager and there is an accident, are you asking yourself, “Did I contribute to the injury?”

I write these words with hesitation, because they open me up to scrutiny and criticism. But if what I say can help prevent someone from getting hurt, or worse, then all the better.

We were a safe company
Let me start by saying that after 36 years in business, my company had a stellar safety record. We went years without a recordable injury – I even lost track, seven years, 10 years? I couldn’t remember. What I did remember is that I would go to my insurance agent and complain that my workers’ compensation insurance MOD (experience modification ) rate, which was 0.87, wasn’t going down.

“We had no injuries last year, zero, none, why isn’t my rate lower?” I would argue. I knew the lower my rate, the lower my insurance premium would be. My insurance broker would show me the math and explain that it was a function of total payroll, reported injuries and even the standards of the industry. I would push back – I always push back when I think something is morally wrong – but in the end, the math didn’t lie, and I had to accept my fate.

For those of you who don’t know, a workers’ comp experience MOD of 1.0 is considered an average company with an average number of injuries. Higher than 1.0 means a company has more injuries than average, and lower than 1.0 means you have fewer. Therefore, 0.87 is considered quite exceptional. I was always proud of that record. That’s why, when we did finally have an injury, I was shocked – shocked because it happened in the first place, and also because it could have been catastrophic.

A long shortcut
The injury involved a crane lift on a pretty standard tree, a large, straight white pine that needed four or five picks. On one of the middle picks, the climber in the tree didn’t put the sling under a branch that would have kept the sling in place. The sling he was using was too short, and rather than call for a longer sling, which would have taken extra time, he chose to go above the branch onto smooth bark.

I wasn’t there, but I’m told the sling was tight. When the climber cut the log, the crane lifted it several feet in the air, but then the sling slid up the bark and off the log. The log dropped straight down into the semi-wooded area about 40 feet from the house. On the way down, the stem clipped the climber, flipping him upside down in his saddle. He hung there until an experienced climber, reacting to an emergent situation and using his best judgement and the equipment available to him, had the crane hoist him into the tree and helped right the climber. The two of them then lowered themselves to the ground.

When I showed up a few minutes later, the climber was standing nearby, and I checked to make sure he was alright. He was dazed but OK, just sore from the stem grazing him as it fell. He recognized he had made a terrible mistake that thankfully wasn’t the catastrophe it could have been. The log fell into the woods, damaging nothing, and he wasn’t seriously injured.

The climber took the rest of the day off. He needed several physical-therapy sessions to help his back, but was moved to light duty in a couple of days and regular work in a week or so.

We got lucky on that one, but like I always say, luck stinks; you don’t want to be lucky in tree work, you want to be great so you never count on luck.

Surprising revelation
About a week later, we had a safety meeting regarding the incident and the injury. The climber went over in detail the process that led to the log slipping off the sling. He recognized he had made a terrible judgement call in not asking for a longer sling. As I listened, I was thinking that this was a man who had broken more pieces of machinery than anyone else in the company. He was a good worker and everyone liked him – I liked him.

But also he was careless, and I was annoyed at myself for letting him stay in the company in any kind of important role because of his track record, with his mistakes and his attitude that when he broke something, it was to be accepted at some level. He generally didn’t take responsibility for breaking equipment, attributing it more to something like bad luck or weak equipment as opposed to poor work practices.

But then he said one thing that resonated. He said he had felt somewhat rushed.

When we were going over assignments on that fateful day, just like on Hill Street Blues, I explained that to get this removal job I had had to go in cheap. The company I was competing against ran an all-cash operation and had no insurance (that company was given a “cease and desist” order from the state about two months later), and their costs were therefore lower and I had felt I had to match his price. It’s a frustrating position I often found myself in, but I should have kept it to myself.

By expressing my frustrations about a low price, I inadvertently created a climate where, at the very least, the climber felt rushed. We got away with it because no one was terribly hurt and there was no property damage; we didn’t get away with it because an employee was hurt, and it affected employee morale. I had said at the beginning of the day, “Take your time, be careful.” But had my other words resonated more?

Reflecting to help others
As I said, I hesitate to bring this up in print because I open myself to ridicule from all the perfect arborists out there ready to throw the first stone. But my intent is for people to think about their words. If you’re in management, are you saying or doing things that put your employees in an unsafe place? Are you saying, “Work hard, but take your time,” or is it more like, “Hey, we need to move fast on these jobs and get as many done as possible”?

The former recognizes that the work is hard, but you need to move steady. The latter is placing speed above safety. Are you paying employees as subcontractors so you don’t have to cover them for workers’ compensation insurance? If you’re an employee who works in an unsafe environment, do you ever go back to your boss and push for safer working conditions?

There are as many situations out there as there are tree care companies. I had a safety record most companies would dream of, but with a few words said to an employee who didn’t always work safely, I may have helped create a situation where a chance was taken that should not have been.

Conclusion
So, as I think about this incident and the tree-business climate in general, I think about what it’s like doing tree work every day. Lately, it feels like tree work is more competitive than ever. Friends who still own tree care companies have said they’ve never seen so many new startups. Some of these newer companies lack proper safety tools. The pressure will be even greater to push for more production in a short period of time as profits tighten.

It’s up to us to hold to our standards, keep that safety record intact and never compromise, whether it’s in words or actions.

Michael Roche, now retired, is the former owner of Vermont Arborists, an accredited, long-time TCIA member company based in Stowe, Vermont, now a SavATree company. He is still a Certified Arborist and a Certified Treecare Safety Professional (CTSP) now living in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire.