3/12/2008
A crew chief's tale - narrative on accident involving cabin ladder in a C-130
Late one evening, after arriving back at home station from a five-day Joint Air Tactical Trainer filled with 10-hour flights, I went to put my C-130 to bed and check the engine intakes and exhausts while installing the intake plugs. Wouldn't you know it, the crew chief ladder (the old style with two horizontal folding arms that attach to the opposite side with "D" rings) I had been nursing along for the past two months finally gave up the ghost. The BLANKETY BLANK thing lost its last horizontal support and the closest maintenance stand was at least two parking spots away. So, being the quick-thinking person that I am, I just stood the ladder up and said a quick prayer, hoping the ladder would not fold up or unfold when I was at the top. Well, the first three motors and the last exhaust inspection went well. Then came my near-fatal error.
I stood the BLANKETY BLANK ladder at the last intake, grabbed my flashlight in one hand and the intake plug in the other and started climbing. I was thinking how good it was to be home, and how cold the beer was in my fridge. When I got to the third rung from the top on the ladder, I could just see into the intake and started looking for the usual stuff, birds, loose rivets, FOD damage, etc. (Remember, this ladder looks like an A without the cross bar, and the top is hinged from 0 to 180[degrees].) Finding nothing interesting to look at, I started putting in the intake plug. It, of course, was as well-used as the ladder, and it was being obstinate as well. I then put one root up on the second from the top rung (a major no-no in the maintenance world) to get more leverage to pound the dang intake plug into place. Thinking to myself, "Got it, phew." Now hook up the bungee cords and beat feet for a cold one. One little problem, though: The effort to get the plug in had caused the ladder to lean onto two opposin g feet, with me at the top. The ladder, of course, had about enough of my bad language being directed at it, and therefore, decided it was time to go on a work stoppage.
It opened up to the full-open position, leaving me eight to 10 feet above it and moving down toward it, and the ground, at what seemed like terminal velocity. Fortunately for me, the ladder beat me to the ground and I landed on top of it, contacting it with one knee (that was painful). I immediately jumped up and looked around to make sure no one saw my dance with the ladder, or the trapeze act that had just been performed. The expediter truck was still across the flightline, and no one was near (what a relief). Lucky for me I finished the day with only a limp and no broken bones. I finished closing up the aircraft and waited for the truck to pick me up, so I could finally get that cold one.
That ladder didn't last much longer, as it was sent to where all broken ladders go--the ISO Hangar. Just kidding. Remember, we are only as safe as the equipment we use. Next time I made sure I had the right equipment for the job.
COPYRIGHT 2002 U.S. Air Force, Safety Agency
COPYRIGHT 2002 Gale Group
I stood the BLANKETY BLANK ladder at the last intake, grabbed my flashlight in one hand and the intake plug in the other and started climbing. I was thinking how good it was to be home, and how cold the beer was in my fridge. When I got to the third rung from the top on the ladder, I could just see into the intake and started looking for the usual stuff, birds, loose rivets, FOD damage, etc. (Remember, this ladder looks like an A without the cross bar, and the top is hinged from 0 to 180[degrees].) Finding nothing interesting to look at, I started putting in the intake plug. It, of course, was as well-used as the ladder, and it was being obstinate as well. I then put one root up on the second from the top rung (a major no-no in the maintenance world) to get more leverage to pound the dang intake plug into place. Thinking to myself, "Got it, phew." Now hook up the bungee cords and beat feet for a cold one. One little problem, though: The effort to get the plug in had caused the ladder to lean onto two opposin g feet, with me at the top. The ladder, of course, had about enough of my bad language being directed at it, and therefore, decided it was time to go on a work stoppage.
It opened up to the full-open position, leaving me eight to 10 feet above it and moving down toward it, and the ground, at what seemed like terminal velocity. Fortunately for me, the ladder beat me to the ground and I landed on top of it, contacting it with one knee (that was painful). I immediately jumped up and looked around to make sure no one saw my dance with the ladder, or the trapeze act that had just been performed. The expediter truck was still across the flightline, and no one was near (what a relief). Lucky for me I finished the day with only a limp and no broken bones. I finished closing up the aircraft and waited for the truck to pick me up, so I could finally get that cold one.
That ladder didn't last much longer, as it was sent to where all broken ladders go--the ISO Hangar. Just kidding. Remember, we are only as safe as the equipment we use. Next time I made sure I had the right equipment for the job.
COPYRIGHT 2002 U.S. Air Force, Safety Agency
COPYRIGHT 2002 Gale Group
# posted by pokernights @ 4:49 PM 
