Lightning strike delivers ORM lesson

  • Published
  • By Jeff Bohn
  • 21st Space Wing Public Affairs
I stared down in anguish at the shattered shaft of my $200 driver and lamented how befitting and symbolic it was toward my pitiful play during the first four holes of the Air Force Academy's Blue golf course Sunday. What I didn't realize was that it was an omen of what was yet to come.

Working on the third shot of the fifth-hole par 5, our foursome heard the weather warning siren, beckoning all in earshot to take shelter. A glance skyward and the typical ominous clouds forming along the mountain crest were obvious, but the golf pro shop staff said the forecast looked fine a mere hour before. I wasn't in a hurry, I've seen this a dozen times ... and made the decision to pick-up the ball before heading to one of the course's lightning shacks to wait out yet one more Rocky Mountain thundershower.

Standing near the green's apron with a 52-degree wedge in hand, I contemplated sending a shot up while I waited for the others to gather their ball and head together to shelter.

Boom!

The sound was deafening, and the charge pulsated down the right side of my skull, convulsing my shoulder and right hand while the current flowed through the golf club to the ground. It was over in a fraction of a second, and I was lucky to be alive.

There was no warning -- no static charge, no aura, not even previous thunder in the vicinity. Needless to say, the expletives that followed and urgency to get to shelter became our only priority.

Standing in the lightning shack gave me time to put sense to the event. People hear that lightning injures more than 300 people a year, but think it will never happen to them -- always the "other guy." One thinks they need to be in the middle of a lightning storm to be at risk -- we were on the front edge of a storm that didn't release any rain for another 15 minutes. How would lightning single out a human when there are hundreds of 60-foot lightning rods (trees) surrounding a six-foot self? It did.

The safety model of Operational Risk Management was key, I just didn't "ACT" correctly.

Assess: it was easy to assess the situation once the weather sirens sounded -- a computer is managing the lightning strikes despite not physically hearing the thunder. The thundercloud bank showed a storm was coming in.

Consider: options were to take shelter immediately according to all the guidance ever printed, but it didn't happen. Could I have made it back the quarter-mile to the lightning shack had I not delayed a few minutes -- I'll never know, but without trying my odds were zero.

Take Action: according to wing safety, this is the most critical step in any risk management process and most commonly where breakdowns occur. I assessed, I considered, but could have taken more appropriate action by acting immediately. After the strike, motivation was high to seek shelter. We beat many a golfer to the lightning shack, and our tale kept us occupied for the 90 minutes as we weathered the storm. Obviously, it was a near-miss.

The wing takes the 101 Critical Days of Summer campaign seriously. Several agencies use this period to put an emphasis on a multitude of higher risk activities and seasonal issues. Ultimately, all the information in the world won't save a life unless an individual uses their free will and acts upon it. Personal responsibility is at a premium. Most people won't have a safety officer standing beside them giving stellar counsel as they explore the outdoors, light up the barbeque grill or drive on their next road trip. It's dependent on each person to take this information and use it wisely, use it correctly.

On the surface, I escaped Sunday with a bad scorecard, a broken golf club, and a little closer grip on my faith. Deeper down, I added a greater appreciation for Mother Nature's awesome power - and Operational Risk Management.