During a recent visit to my family’s home farm, news of a local dairy farmer’s death jarred us.

The 55-year-old man—husband, father of two, grandfather of 2 and sibling of 8—was doing what his wife reported as “something he did all the time”—he entered a manure pit by himself to work on the pump. His wife told responders that she had last seen her husband around 9:30 p.m. She went to bed and did not notice her husband’s absence until 3:30 a.m. after an alarm went off.

When responders arrived on the farm, they found the farmer in an 8x8 manure pit about 12 feet deep. Just over a foot of liquid manure was in the bottom of the pit. The farmer was found wearing rubber boots and a type of Tyvek suit that protects against harmful materials.

HAZMAT crews responded to the scene before removing the farmer from the pit. They reportedly did air testing around the top of the manure pit and inside it.

An autopsy was planned to determine the cause of death. Given where he was found, the cause of death probably would be asphyxiation caused from methane gas. According to Centers for Disease Control, methane gas is colorless, odorless gas that is lighter than air. Experts say you should be expected it to be present in manure pits.

Any accidental death is so very, very sad. In hindsight, it is easy to say should have, could have, would have. However, someone did not and now that someone is gone.

This harvest season, I hope you take extra precautions and do not push yourself to finish a field late into the night, jump into a half-filled bin while working solo or fail to replace safety guards because they are a hassle to install and uninstall. Don’t, don’t, don’t!

If your shortcuts compromise your safety in any way, ignore that little voice in your head that says ‘I do it this way all the time.’ Instead, picture your spouse or your child. Would you want them to complete this particular chore in the same manner that you plan to do?

Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to participate in a simulated grain bin rescue, both as the rescuer and the rescued. When it was my turn to be ‘rescued,’ I was surprised at how quickly I sunk down during the simulation and how immobile I was with fake grain at hip-level. Within seconds, my lower body felt like it was encased in cement. I could not move my legs or feet. Even after my rescuers encircled me with a cofferdam and corn was extracted down to my ankles, I still felt resistance. With some squirming, I could finally lift out my feet.

My rescue took about 15 minutes, long enough for me to feel slightly uncomfortable with the pressure from the grain on my lower body. I cannot imagine what it would be like to being trapped in the large bin and waiting for two to three hours to be extracted.

I’ve also been on the other side, literally, of the unreplaced safety shield and paid a very small price for that oversight.

A few decades back, I was helping my Dad unload corn from the gravity box and onto the conveyor that dumped it into the bin. It was that ‘one last load’ we were hurrying to do in a light November mist before evening milking.

I was standing at the conveyor’s base, scooping up overflowing ears on the muddy ground that missed their mark. I bent over to gather an armful and pushed my right hand into the uncovered gears and chain at the conveyor’s base. I jerked back with a yell as my hand whipped around with the movement.

Thankfully, I suffered only flesh wounds, which required a visit to the emergency room for stitches. I don’t think Dad forgot to replace the safety shield after that.

You might be blind to the risks of those shortcuts you take on the farm. Be honest with yourself and ask your spouse what s/he thinks about them. Then take steps to improve your personal safety. It might mean investing in various types of protective gear and/or working with a partner on a specific task.

If the extra time or money you would need to invest turns you off, fill your mind’s eye with your spouse or children.

Don’t be so obstinate to keep doing it your way because you always have.

That one more time could be your last.