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The importance of safety is difficult to state when things are going well. You’re never going to read a news story about the life that wasn’t lost in an accident, or read a statistic about all the disasters that were passively averted. When things are going well safety measures feel downright mundane, but that’s exactly why they are so important to highlight and celebrate. It means they are working, that tragic stories are being averted and lives are being preserved.

In the realm of mining here at the University of Utah this takes the form of the Mine Rescue Team, a student-led organization that trains and competes with other teams across the country. In this field that’s especially valuable, as Travis Brammer explains, “Most mines, especially underground mines, have rescue teams as being underground is outside of traditional safety training. There are important procedures, it’s a dangerous environment, so specialists are trained to enter the mine, rescue people, and bring them out to first responders.” Mining incidents happen quickly and require immediate attention, and these specialists fill that need to ensure that everyone gets to go home.

Despite being on the younger side of mine rescue teams, the U’s already has incredibly strong performances under its belt, having won the overall competition at the 2020 Society of Mining, Metallurgy and Exploration Engineers annual conference in February. In particular they’ve been lauded for their stellar communication and teamwork, their ability to seamlessly act and react together in high stress situations.

The mining department is relatively small on campus, meaning these members share classes and have become friends. Forge this close-knit group of friends with the support of nearby mines (who often donate equipment for the team to use) and the Mining Rescue Team is able to translate their cohesion into even greater success when the competitions start.

As for what those competitions entail, every aspect of rescue is scrutinized to reflect the severity of lives being on the line. Mass casualty simulations will test the team’s reaction to a major collapse in an underground environment. How do they prioritize injuries? Do they have the first aid skills to do so? How efficiently and safely can they get people out of a mine? Also heavily scrutinized is the equipment, as teams are provided malfunctioning equipment and tested to see how well they can both find and fix those issues.

Teams’ ability to navigate underground is tested with scavenger hunts in real mines. Rope challenges measure the necessity of creating impromptu harnesses in case of a fall…and all while the judges are actively tampering with the environment to mimic an unpredictable crisis. These are incredibly varied competitions, but as Joe Rhoades describes, such breadth is a critical aspect to the outing

“There’s collapsing walls, there’s toxic gas, malfunctioning equipment, fires, every kind of health emergency,” to name a few. It’s an ever-changing environment where everyone has to stay on their toes, and competitions like this are the perfect way to hone those skills.

But the Mine Rescue Team isn’t just for mining and engineering students. The disaster relief focus has drawn members from across the health sciences, and a geologist joined the ranks to get some proper mineral exploration (a career of searching for future mines) experience. Geology & Geophysics major Constance Suave explains that mining engineers and geologists work “hand-in-glove” constantly.

“I’d decided I wanted to know more about what comes after the process of my future career,” she says, further explaining that “I didn’t know what to expect at first, but I’ve really come to appreciate the industry and the culture around safety. It’s not just mine rescue — staying mindful and staying safe is important for everyone.”

It may be a relatively silent importance, but thanks to teams like this the message is still carried to the right people. As Mine Rescue Team president Hunter Norris puts it, “The saying that ‘Everyone goes home’ has always rang true to me, and it is a goal I will strive for in my career.”

Current students participating in rescue teams like this one at the U ensure that the future mining leaders they’ll become will be informed and motivated by those values of safety throughout their career environments.

Geoffrey King

“I’ve always had a wide range of interests,” he says. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

At 43, King is not your typical graduate student. He’s worked in oil fields and mines, taught high school science, flipped houses, run a rental business, and even planned a year-long move to Spain. Now, he’s a student in the first-ever cohort of a master’s program at the University of Utah focused on mining safety. The interdisciplinary program is a collaboration between the U’s Department of Mining Engineering at the Rocky Mountain Center for Occupational and Environmental Health.

King’s path to mining safety was a circuitous one. After earning a geology degree from Weber State, he jumped into the industry, taking a job as a mine operations geologist with US Oil Sands. The company was trying to extract crude oil from Utah’s sandstone — an environmentally friendlier process than the Alberta tar sands operations — but like many before them, they struggled to make it profitable.

“They failed,” Geoffrey says matter-of-factly. “The price of oil wasn’t high enough, and the costs were too steep.”

Next came a six-month contract at the Kennecott Copper Mine, analyzing rock cores to predict slope stability — a crucial task in preventing catastrophic landslides. After that, a pivot: teaching high school earth sciences.

Then came Spain. Or at least, the idea of it. King and his wife had planned to move their family overseas for a year. She, ever the pragmatist, suggested he use the time to figure out what he wanted to do “when he grew up.” So, he did what everyone seems to do these days; he turned to ChatGPT.

“I asked it to give me five career ideas based on my background,” he recalls. “First one? Occupational and environmental safety and health.”

The more King looked into it, the more it made sense. He’d always been drawn to safety, having started his industrial career in the oil fields, where he’d seen firsthand the consequences of cutting corners. “I chopped off a big chunk of my finger,” he says. “And I’ve seen guys in the field with hooks for hands. Safety’s no joke.”

Spain, however, would have to wait. Advisors told him that if he wanted a career in occupational safety, the U.S. was the place to train — home to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration and the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health and the highest industry standards. So, he made a call to the U.

“I got lucky,” he admits. “Normally, I would’ve missed the application deadline by months. But this program had just launched. I interviewed, got accepted, and they offered to pay for the whole thing. At that point, I had to really consider it.”

Now, King is deep into coursework that surprised him with its emphasis on health science. “I thought I’d be learning mostly about safety — hard hats, harnesses, protocols,” he says. “Turns out, I’m taking classes with medical residents and postdocs, studying how toxic exposures affect the body.”

His studies will take him to South America this summer, where he’ll do an internship in Colombia. “I’ve got some Spanish,” he says, “but I want a lot more.” More importantly, he wants to bridge the gap between academia and the workers who need this knowledge the most.

“There’s this massive machine of occupational safety research happening in universities,” he says, “but I see a disconnect between that and the guy working next to an asphalt paver on the freeway. That’s who I want to help.”

King’s passion for connecting people to knowledge isn’t new. He credits his own education to his mother, who, despite severe

Geoffrey King and his children.

financial struggles and mental health challenges, made sure he had exposure to science. “We were poor,” he says, “but she always brought us to the Utah Museum of Natural History [NHMU] on free Mondays. That’s what set me on this path.”

This excursion into graduate school at the U is not his first rodeo — or perhaps more appropriately, not his first hard rock lesson. In addition to his youthful visits to the NHMU in what is now the Crocker Science Center, he "went to preschool right here on 2nd South. Kindergarten just down the road. Our neighbor had alligators in their backyard,” he adds with a laugh. “I’ve known where Presidents Circle is for a long time.”

As for what’s next, King — who when he’s not “digging” into his pastimes of coaching basketball, hiking and traveling — keeps his options and one more circuitous route open. “I might go into consulting, or mining safety or construction. Maybe I’ll start my own business.” He pauses, then grins. “That drives my wife nuts.”

Whatever he chooses, Geoffrey King knows one thing: he wants to make a real impact. “In this field, you can be the person making sure workers get home safe at night. That’s powerful.”

College of Science

The Silence of Safety

The silence of SAfety

The University of Utah's Mine Rescue Team demonstrates the value of safety.

Getting miners home safe at night

Getting miners home safe at night

Characterized by relentless curiosity and beholden to the nature of life itself, Geoffrey King has always been a bit of a wanderer, opting for the scenic byway over the direct route.