At this site there are a total of seven tanks, called a tank battery.
Four of them hold oil, which runs the world and is what Springman has come for.
Hes an oil hauler.
The oil tank hatch Springman was trying to open at the time of the accident.
But as his right hand grasps the lid of the thief hatch, theres a problem.
Sometimes lids get stuck, perhaps because of age.
So Springman uses more force, and presses down on the latch even harder.
He uses both hands.
At some point, a vague notion enters his mind that something is off-kilter, not right.
Hes immediately enveloped in a reddish-brown cloud.
It looked like Yellowstone, Fausto says, and that shit smelled like burnt eggs.
Where does one go, in that moment of free fall?
And yet theres a job to do, an integrity to uphold andgit-r-done.
Somewhere, somehow, we owe him something.
There is a quietude to the job, a stillness.
He gets to be on the road, out in one of the nations great deserts.
And then, you take one wrong breath, and it all explodes.
Red droplets fall out of the sky.
His gas monitor is going crazy, and he isnt breathing.
His eyes roll back in his head, there is blood on his ear.
Fausto drags him along the catwalk away from the fuming tank.
He looked like a zombie, Fausto says.
I HAVE BEEN REPORTING ON oil fields formore than a decadeand met my share of sick and dying workers.
Guys like Randy Moyer, a Pennsylvania trucker who was drenched in fracking waste.
Moyer died in 2022.
Hydrocarbon gases like ethane, propane, and butane can displace oxygen and cause asphyxiation, or an explosion.
The sheer force of the gas rushing out can knock a grown man off his feet.
Trent Vigus, 30, found in the fetal position beside an oil tank in eastern Montana.
Blaine Otto, dead on a catwalk with his eyes open.
Just how many workers die in this manner is unknown.
The government knows opening tanks can kill.
Diamondback Energy has not replied to a detailed list of questions on the matter.
Their daughter, Olivia, was born on a March day in 2016.
Springman spent much of her childhood working as a freelance oil hauler.
Olivias favorite color is pink; her favorite animal, llamas.
If youve never heard of Pilot, take a road trip through the hot American night.
Doctors would drill into his pelvis and take a sample, which could possibly reveal what was killing him.
But he was so sick there was a chance he might not survive the procedure.
So I had booked a flight to Dallas and arranged to meet him at the Rusty Taco.
I walked through the restaurant twice and still couldnt find him.
There is a standard background level of paranoia in meeting a mysterious source is it a setup?
Turns out, he was.
And I had passed him without noticing because he didnt fit my stereotype.
I joined them at the dinner table, and we spoke.
Springman was 52, and he was born in Bakersfield, California, an oil town.
His grandfather worked in oil, as a tool pusher, and traveled to Libya and Iraq.
His uncle Jerry also worked in oil and received a terrible injury.
Something got caught, Springman says, and his leg got ripped off.
He goes on to tell me about his own injury.
I have no stomach lining, he says, speaking across the table over his familys dinner.
I have lesions on my liver.
My kidneys are damaged, I have an enlarged prostate, my lymph nodes are all jacked out.
My legs are covered in little fluid-filled lumps, and they hurt.
When that thing pops, Im gone, they cant fix it.
Cant do it, cant do it, says Olivia, without looking up from her machine.
Im surprised shes paying attention, but, of course, kids are always paying attention.
My skin turned dark gray, then yellow and today I was Neapolitan.
I ask, expecting some complex procedure.
The other big concern beside his heart are his lungs.
Or, Springman says, damage my brain and make me a vegetable.
And this means his bone-marrow biopsy has to be done without anesthesia.
Someone orders tacos, and they call out the order.
Other families sit and eat.
And the hot humid Texas night rolls on.
I am a walking miracle, Springman says.
Usually, a guy in my position doesnt last long.
The industry relies on people to die.
The yard supervisor informed drivers a new trainee Fausto needed to ride with someone.
The color was silver, with Pilot in red.
Turns out, there was an error in the pre-trip program: It was Binkley, not Binldey.
The actual lease was near an old rock plant, off U.S. Highway 285.
Springman navigated the oil tanker down the dirt driveway and pulled beside the row of oil tanksaround noon.
(In court, Diamondback denied it was mislabeled.)
But Springman holds them responsible.
How hard is it to put up a sign?
Diamondback does not concede that there were toxic gases at Binkley 37-1H; Springman says otherwise.
The Texas Commission on Environmental Quality says it has not documented violations related to Springmans case.
They didnt do shit for Jeff, they left him hanging, Fausto says.
Its all about the money, its not about the safety, he says.
Theyre more worried about their equipment than their human employees.
I have to have an iron infusion every three weeks, he tells me.
Either way, Im done.
There is no good outcome for me.
Meanwhile, the Permian continues to pump out crude at a record pace.
And what, I ask Springman, was it like to have a bone-marrow biopsy performed without anesthesia?
I laid down on the table and they drilled right through my back, he says.
When Springman and I spoke last December, his condition had rapidly deteriorated.
I am in so much pain right now I can barely stand, he says.
Getting up out of a chair is hell.
Im telling you it hurts so bad, I feel every beat.
Every single time I swallow food or drink it feels like salt being rubbed in a wound.
I am having problems keeping water down.
Ive had a constant headache for three months.
Its so hard, Justin.Im not going to make it to September.
I am probably going to die in this apartment.
Thats Lendys biggest fear, finding my body its no way to live.
During our conversation, he is audibly writhing in pain, and it seems to come in waves.
Im terminal, Springman finally says.
It is hard to know the exact words to say.
I want to ask simple things: How is Lendy doing?
What does it feel like to know you may die before your daughters next birthday?
Are you composing a list of life lessons for her?
Whats your final message to your family, the world?
But none of this seems appropriate.
In fact, nothing seems appropriate.
Should I go and give a shot to pull him out of the plume, what do I do?
What do I do?
Lives dont mean anything to the oil-and-gas industry.
They know they are killing these men, they are dispensable.
They are like a tool: When they are broken, they just throw it away.
Earlier this year, Springmans case against Diamondback was settled in a confidential settlement.
What is your final wish in this life on earth?
This story was co-published and supported by the journalism non-profit theEconomic Hardship Reporting Project.
