The echo of incoming fire? That doesn’t fade. Just ask Brett Burkard.

Before Titan Environmental, before boardrooms and budgets, Brett was out in the field — laying infrastructure in warzones. The kind of places where flak vests weren’t optional. Where a misstep didn’t mean a citation — it meant someone didn’t make it home.

Different job, same takeaway:

“Awareness isn’t something you can wing. You either live and breathe it — or you don’t.”

Threats don’t always wear uniforms

Sometimes danger looks like this:

  • A 2-ton roll of sheeting dangling from a crane
  • A worn-down blade skimming too close
  • A crew so overworked they forget what’s at stake

That’s the battleground Brett knows best now — construction sites, heavy industry, logistics hubs. That’s why he fought for safety talks, every single day, even when old-timers griped.

They called it a distraction. “A waste.” “Safety theatre.”

But then time passed. No injuries. No close calls.

“They scoffed at first,” Brett says. “Then one day, they noticed — nothing bad had happened in weeks. It finally clicked: It wasn’t bureaucracy. It was awareness.”

What’s more dangerous than chaos? Comfort.

Complacency is a slow killer. Just ask Robin Postnikoff. Robin runs MI Safety. His goal is to turn training from passive theory into muscle memory. Because according to him: “You can talk someone through driving all day. But until they’re behind the wheel in a snowstorm with cars sliding by, it’s just talk.”

That’s why Robin’s built a hybrid model: online modules for the basics, plus hands-on skill checks to prove it stuck. Because if you can’t apply it under pressure, it doesn’t count. He’s seen the cost of skipping that second step — and he won’t let it happen on his watch.

 

Two female construction workers discussing real hazards at a worksite, highlighting real people learning real lessons in safety practices.

Good training isn’t prep. It’s protection.

From military camps to municipal sites, one truth holds: The people who walk away saw the warning signs. Not by luck. But because they’d practiced. Over and over. Until readiness became reflex.

So ask yourself:

  • Do you treat near-misses as warnings — or footnotes?
  • Are you preparing your crew for the worst — or just the routine?
  • Are your people truly alert — or just checking boxes?

If you’re not sure?

Then it’s time to rehearse again. Because out here, the real thing doesn’t come with a second take.

This is not a drill.