Fatigue Is the Last Phase of the Storm… And It’s the One That Kills Without Making Noise Winter Storm Fern didn’t end. It just stopped being dramatic. The ice moved on. The wind shut up. The cameras packed their shit and left. (Unless you’re in Nashville) But the work didn’t. Tens of thousands are still in the dark across MS, TN, and LA. And the hands fixing it aren’t running on adrenaline anymore. They’re running on empty. This is the phase of the storm that doesn’t look dangerous. No chaos. No urgency on the surface. Just long hours, tired brains, and the quiet pressure to be done. This is where people get hurt. Fatigue doesn’t scream. It whispers. It narrows judgment. It shortens patience. It convinces good hands they’re still sharp when they’re not. It turns “I’ll slow it down” into “I’ve got it.” It turns job briefings into checkboxes. It turns cover-up discipline into muscle memory instead of intention. It turns silence into the path of least resistance. And nobody feels unsafe… Until somebody’s bleeding… Or not coming home. Storms don’t usually kill people at their peak. They kill people at the end… when pride, experience, and exhaustion collide. This isn’t about being tough. Tough doesn’t keep people alive. Stewardship does. Late-stage storm work is where Brotherhood stops being a word and starts being friction. It’s speaking up when everyone wants to finish. It’s slowing the tempo when leadership pressure isn’t loud… just implied. It’s watching the senior hands, not assuming they’re immune. It’s calling time when the only thing pushing you is fatigue and ego. Every Journeyman on this storm is teaching right now. You don’t get to opt out. You topped out… that made you an instructor. If you rush, you teach rushing. If you stay quiet, you teach silence. If you step in, you teach survival. Fatigue doesn’t excuse shortcuts. It exposes who’s willing to carry the weight anyway. A Moment for Those Already Paying the Price Before we talk about finishing…

Before we dive in, let me set the table. This is the next post in my ET&D Best Practice series — the same series where we’ve been breaking down the real work, the real discipline, and the real mindset that keeps linemen alive. A couple of weeks ago, we dug into Stop Work Authority/Obligation. Today, we take the next step: Job Hazard Analysis. Not the paperwork version. Not the corporate checkbox version. The real one. The one the old heads lived by long before the suits ever tried to brand it. The one that forces you to slow your ass down and think. The one that actually keeps names off walls. You can find the rest of this post in the ET&D Best Practices Classroom.