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When Mike’s friend and colleague, Steve Burclaw, arrived at the farm at 6:30 a.m. to help with the hauling, the scene appeared deceptively serene. The fog hung low over the fields, a sight so common it failed to raise any alarms. It was only as the workers approached the pit that the horror of the situation became clear. Mike lay motionless at the very edge of the pit, overcome so quickly by the high concentration of hydrogen sulfide that he likely never had the chance to realize he was in danger. Nearby, sixteen head of cattle lay dead, having succumbed to the same silent killer. The tragedy was a “freak accident” in the truest sense of the term—a perfect storm of chemistry and meteorology that turned an open field into a gas chamber.
