The Night Everything Changed

I've been in this trade long enough to know that danger doesn't always look dangerous. Sometimes it looks routine.

Back in 2015, I made an assumption that should've killed me.

It was supposed to be a normal day. Same circuit. Same setup. Same plan. But that morning, one small detail was different. And I didn't catch it.

When I made contact with an energized fiber optic ground wire, I felt it instantly. The current hit me like a freight train. My muscles locked. My body screamed. I could hear the electricity in my head, and my brother standing five feet away could hear it too.

Somehow, I walked away. No burns. No scars. Just one night in the hospital for observation, still buzzing from the induction off two 500kV circuits.

That night, I thought about how close it was. How easily my name could've been the one written on a safety bulletin instead of the one writing it.

But the real weight of what happened didn't hit me until later that evening.

My wife walked into the hospital carrying our seven-month-old daughter. She placed her on my lap, right there on the bed. I still remember the look in her eyes. Relief, fear, disbelief, all at once. I remember my oldest daughter calling me, crying, asking why I wasn't coming home. And I remember when my crew walked in. You could feel the impact in the room before anyone spoke.

Lying there that night, with only a nurse to talk to, I finally broke down. Because the thought that haunted me wasn't "What if I died?" It was "What if not speaking up landed one of my brothers in here instead of me, or worse, in the ground?"

That question changed everything.

It's why I stopped seeing safety as a checklist and started seeing it as a conversation. It's why I built frameworks like AAA (Ask. Adapt. Act.) and ESCAPE, to give crews a way to slow down, talk, and challenge assumptions before they turn deadly. And it's why I started Wired for Safety.

This isn't just another newsletter about rules or regulations. It's a space for the people who live where routine and risk collide. The linemen, operators, pilots, mechanics, and foremen who carry the weight of keeping everyone safe.

Each issue will bring you:

One story from the field. Real, not theory.

One takeaway you can use that day. Something you can apply before you clock out.

One tool or framework to help you lead, question, and protect the people who count on you. Practical methods that work in the real world.

If you've ever looked back on a close call and thought "How did we miss that?" this is for you.

Let's learn from the moments we almost didn't walk away from, so fewer people have to live them.

Stay sharp. Stay humble. Stay wired for safety.

— Lito