Rethinking grain bin safety: How to come home at night

FPMG - Fri May 22, 2:00AM CDT

I remember where I was standing when I first heard that Keith Roosevelt had gotten caught in an auger on his family farm near Albion, Ill., which happened to be just down the road from where I grew up. We used to ride the bus together. 

Keith lost his leg that day in August 2014. But he was lucky. His steel-toe boot stopped the auger. You can read all about it, and I hope you do because Keith did what we’ve all done a million times: doing one thing and thinking about something else. A second later, he was tangled up in an auger. 

By day’s end, surgeons had removed his leg. 

Chances are, if you’ve been involved with agriculture, you know someone who’s been injured in or around their grain system. Or you know someone who got trapped in a bin. 

I also remember where I was in August 2021 when I heard that Brian Satorius had died in a grain bin near his Petersburg, Ill., farm. I’d known Brian and his wife, Brianne, for a long time, and Brianne’s mom was our county 4-H coordinator. All the stuff of small towns. 

Brian climbed into a partially emptied bin of soybeans and didn’t come out. Details are still slim, even five years later. He’d been at another event that morning, and a neighbor he farmed with asked him to help unclog the bin. He went to help. He wasn’t supposed to be there. 

Now his wife is raising their two children without him.

“I know lots of farmers hop in and take care of stuff,” Brianne said. “Most of them hop out, most of the time. But it just takes one time.”

At the time, their kids were 10 and 6. Today, they’re 15 and 11. 

After the tragedy

“I’ve had to be pretty purposeful with myself because the ‘shoulda-woulda-couldas’ don’t bring him back,” Brianne added. “But there are a lot of moments that I wish were different, from a decision Brian made to decisions others around him made. I wish safety was prioritized over unclogging a grain bin.”

In the wake of Brian’s death, Brianne had to pull things together for harvest. She’d long helped with the books, so the farm was familiar. And she’s a licensed counselor, even helping people work through grief.

She set the tone early on with her kids: They talk about Brian all the time, even through tears. Maybe especially. Tears are OK. 

“For kids, you don’t want to make something more than they’re already processing,” she said. “They look to adults in their life — if Mom freaks out, it must be bad.”

Their son will get his license soon, and each new phase is one she wishes Brian could see. He drives his dad’s truck and uses his cellphone. 

The stories

We’ve put together a special series, telling stories of near-misses and fatalities, of families who had to plan a funeral, and we’re calling it Rethinking Grain Bin Safety. 

What I know from the 28 years I’ve written for Farm Progress is that farm safety stories with facts and figures don’t get read. Reminding you how many people die in grain bins every year doesn’t make a dent when you have 99 other things to do and you don’t think it’ll happen to you.

But telling you about the family who has to drive past the bin where their husband or father or son died, every single day of their lives? I hope that makes a difference. And I hope you’ll read what they learned, and what they’ve changed on their farms.

Here’s what we’ve put together:

Friends, these are the kinds of stories we hope you’ll read, and we hope you’ll have your loved ones read them. We hope you’ll make different choices.  

We hope you’ll come home at night. 

Comments? Email holly.spangler@farmprogress.com.