Playing the Regulators with their own Game

When our company was rocked by a catastrophic incident, we were immediately thrust into a full-scale NTSB investigation. My direct supervisor deployed himself straight to the epicenter of the disaster, leaving me to hold down the fort and keep our primary site running. It was the middle of July and everybody except me was on vacation.

The phone calls from my supervisor were frequent and typically frantic. He called for technical EHS information, internal procedures and to simply vent. This one phone call was most interesting...

In one phone call, my manager asked me what our published bloodborne pathogen procedures stated regarding the current procedure. I replied we have limited procedures because we have a contractor that cleans up our 'bloody messes'. I asked him why he asking this question. He proceeded to state that the deployed NTSB officials were not aware of any internal bloodborne procedures and were relying on us. He believed that the NTSB officials were simply out of their depth. My reply was 'give me an hour and I'll email you bloodborne procedures that will appropriately fit the current situation'.

I went into hyper-focus. After twenty minutes of frantic, deep-dive research (AKA Google search), I struck gold: the NTSB has their own EHS Appendix published on the WWW. It was a comprehensive, 40-page document of procedures that perfectly encompassed the active concerns on the ground. I uploaded into an email, CC'd the NTSB onsite supervisor (as I was asked to) and hit send.

My phone rang almost instantly. It was my supervisor, utterly exasperated.

"Are you shitting me?" he yelled. "NTSB has their own EHS document and these dipshits don't know about it?!"

"Yep," I replied.

But the chaos wasn't over. An hour later, my phone rang again. The site desperately needed a massive drop-off of PPE for the immediate clean-up, and I was identified as the delivery driver. With no time to waste, I grabbed a heavy-duty garbage bag and furiously stuffing it with respirators, gloves, and Tyvek suits. Knowing every second counted, I literally threw the giant, bulging sack over my shoulder and practically sprinted toward the parking lot. As I was strutting to my vehicle, our on-site security guards stopped me.

Normally, this guard was friendly with me, but his demeanor shifted to hostile. He stepped in front of me, demanded to know where I was going, and terrifyingly, dropped his hand to rest directly on his gun.

Adrenaline and sheer exhaustion took over. Without thinking, I went on the offensive.

"This is for the crash!" I yelled, my voice echoing across the pavement. "Would you like to get on the phone with XXX (my supervisor) so you can explain to him why I’m late dropping off these supplies?!"

The guard froze. The color drained from his face as his hands immediately shot up in the air in surrender. "I was not aware" he stammered, stepping aside with a look of pure shock.

I threw the bag in the car and sped off. That guard never bothered—or even spoke to me—ever again.

The Lesson Learned

In a crisis, authority doesn't always equal competence—so you have to own your expertise.

This day taught me two unforgettable realities of crisis management:

1. Never assume the regulators know all the regulations. Even the highest-level officials can be blind to their own rulebooks. You must be prepared to be the smartest person in the room, even when dealing with the authorities.
2. Conviction clears the path. When you are operating with absolute certainty and urgency, people step aside.