$afety $aves –

by Tim McEntire

A few months ago, I got a frantic call from my mom. My family, like many of yours, has several members getting to the age where a phone call saying one of them is in the hospital is usually not good news. This time it was my uncle, who—even though he has retired from a long career working in the mill—is relatively a very healthy guy and is strong as an ox.

So, the story goes, he had a fuel container with some leftover diesel in it. With the stuff being more expensive than liquid gold, he decided to siphon it out and put it in the farm tractor. You see, my Uncle’s version of retirement is putting up several hundred acres of hay and this year we had a bunker crop. Using the ol’ petrol pirate (a rubber hose), he gave it a big pull and next thing you know, he had a mouthful of diesel.

Most of us know that getting a mouthful of diesel tastes foul, and we’ve all heard that inhaling petroleum products can burn your lungs (known medically as chemical pneumonitis). But what many folks don't realize is that old diesel fuel is a breeding ground for biological hazards. Over time, moisture accumulates in fuel tanks—especially older, stationary, or backup tanks exposed to Montana’s dramatic temperature swings. This moisture invites microbial growth: bacteria, fungi, and mold often referred to as "diesel bugs."

When my uncle went to siphon fuel from an old tank, a small amount accidentally aspirated (got past his windpipe and straight into his lungs). He didn't just inhale a toxic chemical hydrocarbon; he inhaled a colony of live bacteria straight from the sludge at the bottom of the tank. Within hours, things went from bad to alarming. Diesel on its own strips the delicate lining of the lungs and causes severe inflammation. But combined with the introduced bacteria, it triggered a massive secondary infection.

His lungs began filling with fluid, leading to severe respiratory distress. What started as a "swallowed it down the wrong pipe" moment turned into a multi-day hospital stay battling severe aspiration pneumonia and chemical lung injury. The medical team had to fight both the chemical burns in his airways and a fierce bacterial infection that standard home remedies or waiting it out wouldn't touch.

Out in the woods, we deal with enough hazards—widow-makers, rolling terrain, heavy iron, and high-tension rigging. A fuel hose shouldn't be one of them. Consider these safety takeaways for your crew:

·         Ban the Mouth-Siphon Forever: It’s an archaic habit. A hand-primer bulb, a battery-powered transfer pump, or a simple siphon pump costs very little—far less than an emergency room copay or a week in the hospital.

·         Respect Old Fuel Tanks: Tanks that sit stagnant collect water, rust, and heavy bacterial/fungal growth. If you must salvage fuel from an old or neglected tank, treat it as a biohazard and a chemical hazard. Filter it properly, and never risk drawing it by mouth.

·         Know the Signs: If anyone on your crew accidentally inhales or aspirates fuel and develops a persistent cough, shortness of breath, chest tightness, or a fever over the next 24 to 48 hours, do not brush it off. Get them to a medical professional immediately and tell the doctor explicitly that fuel was aspirated.

After a few long days in the hospital, my uncle was let loose and headed back to the farm. He was under strict orders to take it easy for a few days—which he heard as "only work 10 hours instead of twelve." There was fresh hay laying on the ground, for crying out loud.

Production is important, but a piece of equipment can always be refueled tomorrow. Your lungs—and your life—can’t. Through this, there is a lesson to learn: no matter what the savings are, we need to look at the hazards first. The dollars saved by sucking a few gallons of diesel out of an old tank could cost you a big hospital bill, or worse.   Stay safe out there and remember $afety $aves