Star-Journbal Editor
For the record, Chad Stutzman doesn't believe in superstitions, omens, or things that go bump in the night. Thank goodness.
Prone to the heebie-jeebies, Stutzman, a Class II certified water treatment operator for the City of Hillsboro, might not have been so quick to answer his cell phone when it startled him awake June 6, at precisely 1:27.51 a.m.
Had he thought twice about the date, he might not have been so eager to obey the non-human voice, ordering him into the pounding rain.
Down at the water treatment plant, a sizzling bolt of lightning had blown the face off a 480-volt electrical panel and popped the super heavy-duty fuses, cutting off the main power supply.
The new computer monitoring system, recently brought online at the plant as part of an ongoing $3 million expansion and improvement project, worked flawlessly.
"We were protected," said Morgan Marler, senior water treatment plant technician. "Everything did it's job."
At the June 6 city council meeting, news of the lightning strike was delivered by Don Hellar, of EBH Engineers, Pratt. He was at the meeting to give an update on the plant project and collect a check for engineering fees. After reporting that the project would be completed in mid-July, a month ahead of schedule, Hellar described the lightning strike's temporary effect on plant operations.
"At this point in time as near as I know, there was no real major damage," Hellar said.
The plant was fully operational again Wednesday after city electrical workers repaired the breaker box and installed new fuses. Officials were not sure if there was any other damage to the plant, or if an insurance claim would be filed.
Mayor Delores Dalke asked city administrator Steve Garrett to make sure the plant was inspected to assure there was no hidden damage.
Powered by a back-up generator, the plant's new computer software recorded to the second when lightning struck. The system dialed Stutzman's cell phone, and, in a computerized voice, told him the chlorine system was down and the power was off. The software also documented every step that was taken afterward, providing Marler with a digital paper trail of the incident.
"Instead of water going through the filters to the underground storage containers here, the water overflowed and went into the waste lagoons out there," Marler said.
"When morning came our underground storage was a little bit lower, but we just kicked up the flow from the reservoir and increased our productions and were able to catch up by the end of the day."
In addition to lightning strikes, the new equipment monitors every aspect of the water purification process, she added.
"We have to abide by about a thousand different guidelines established by the EPA," Marler said. "And so we have sensors installed that monitor different functions. The computer will let you know if something is wrong, so you can make an adjustment and stay in compliance.
"That computer screen is replacing all of those functions here," she said, pointing to a bank of old gauges, dials, and gizmos on the control room wall.
Overnight call duties are shared by a handful of workers at the plant. Duty-bound, Stutzman didn't hesitate to dash out into the horror-movie storm — on 06/06/06 (June 6, 2006). He found the plant draped in total darkness when he arrived.
"The rain was coming down pretty bad and the lightning really cracked and boomed out there, but I didn't think much of it at the time," he said.
The day before, Stutzman had been reminded that the 'morrow would bring the dreaded numbers 666 on the calendar — he saw on television that the remake of "The Omen" was due to open in theaters the next day.
But in his haste to respond, the fact that it was the date against which police and fire officials in some cities had devised contingency plans, and, some churches had left lights on and locked their doors, simply slipped his mind.
Not until Marler reminded him at the end their drama-filled day, did he give it a second thought.
Lucky for the City of Hillsboro that Stutzman doesn't believe in superstitions, omens, or things that go bump in the night. Still, he admits, it's all pretty creepy.
"Yes," he said. "Yes it is."
