‘I Know I Have a Dust Problem’: ADM Repeatedly Failed to Prevent Potentially Deadly Grain Explosions

This story was originally published on Investigate Midwest.

Around 6:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve in 2022, flames ripped through the bowels of an industrial facility in Fremont, Nebraska. Elevators were scorched. Conveyor belts collapsed. Metal doors melted. As smoke filled the sky, employees scrambled to escape. One dialed 911.

“The plant’s on fire,” he hurriedly breathed.

“Is everybody out of there?” The dispatcher asked.

“Working on it.”

Local fire crews extinguished the blaze at the Archer Daniels Midland plant about three hours later. Equipment failure likely created a spark. But the product upon which ADM built an empire was most responsible for the destruction: grain.

Processing grain generates a highly explosive byproduct, dust. Industry guidelines recommend, and experts encourage, that companies install machines to capture airborne dust and routinely clean dusty areas. A few days after the explosion, ADM assured the community it was qualified to handle the emergency. “Safety is always our top priority,” a spokesperson told the Fremont Tribune. “ADM has extensive processes and procedures in place.”

A federal safety inspector found a different story.

About two weeks after the explosion, the inspector arrived and immediately spotted the problem: Dust-coated walls and pipes. As the inspector collected samples, the plant manager grew irate.

“I know I have a dust problem,” the plant manager confided.

Near the top of the Fortune 500, with annual profits exceeding several billion dollars each year, ADM has long dominated American grain processing. It underpins the agriculture and food industries, producing feed for livestock and artificial sweeteners for Coca-Cola. It has touted its safety record, and it recently highlighted that it was named “one of America’s most responsible companies.”

The grain processing industry has been expanding in recent years, driven in part by the expanding global meat industry. About 30 percent of the world’s grain goes toward feed for animal agriculture. ADM is a major player in this market, producing feed and supplements for cattle, pigs, sheep, horses, and goats across the world.

However, despite its vast resources and awareness of the risks, ADM has failed to prevent a series of recent grain explosions, according to interviews with experts and a review of federal, state, and local records obtained by Investigate Midwest.

Disregarding industry best practices and government warnings, the company has allowed dust to accumulate to unsafe levels, has failed to maintain equipment designed to prevent explosions properly, and has not developed procedures for safely removing dust.

In total, one person has died and 15 employees and first-responders have suffered life-changing injuries.

The death occurred in Iowa in 2019. After a fire had started in a grain silo, ADM allowed fire crews to blast the product with water. Research going back decades showed the best way to handle a silo fire was to close all openings so it could burn out. Pressurized water only generates grain dust, creating fuel for the fire. ADM employees had no idea. As firefighters hosed the fire from the silo’s roof, it blew.

Two government investigations concluded ADM’s mismanagement was at least partly responsible for the death. ADM has denied this.

The same year, a section of ADM’s North American headquarters in Decatur, Illinois, exploded.

Again, mismanagement contributed, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration found. ADM had not studied how destructive dust could be. Contractors had flagged incorrectly installed parts and parts needing replacement on the facility’s dust collectors, but no maintenance was performed.

Two more explosions rocked the facility in 2023. OSHA found the same problems: poor maintenance. Eleven workers suffered third-degree burns across their faces and bodies. ADM is contesting the government fines.

Between 2018 and 2024, ADM has had eight grain explosions, or about 13% of all such incidents in the agriculture industry, according to Purdue University research. Only two other companies have had more than one during that time period. Investigate Midwest also identified a handful of other grain fires at ADM facilities.

John Newquist, a former OSHA administrator who now trains companies on dust explosion prevention, said there’s little doubt ADM had policies in place addressing the problem.

“The real, million-dollar question is, Why didn’t they follow their own program? This is one of the 500 largest companies in the United States,” he said.

“They have everything to do it right. They have the money. They have the resources. There is no excuse for a big, billion-dollar company to have any dust explosions.”

Over the past six months, Investigate Midwest has repeatedly sought comment from ADM, first contacting spokeswoman Jackie Anderson in early November. She declined an interview request but asked for specific questions. Despite two rounds of detailed, written inquiries and repeated follow-ups since then, she has not responded.

In corporate documents, ADM has said safety is a top concern. Most years, about 80% of its locations, including about 200 North American processing facilities, have recorded no worker safety incidents, the company reported. After the 2023 explosions, ADM admitted in corporate records its “safety performance did not meet our expectations,” though it did not mention the incidents specifically.

“Our people are our lifeblood,” ADM has said. “We are refocusing our efforts in both occupational and process safety in support of our vision of Safe or We Don’t Do it. We remain committed to fostering a safe working environment for all of our employees and contractors.

ADM added it was “enhancing efforts” related to maintenance activities, risk management and employee health.

Preventing dust buildup can be challenging, said Kingsly Ambrose, a Purdue University professor and authority on grain dust explosions. Facilities process large volumes of grain, which is jostled around as it’s transported up and around the building. This flings grain dust into the air. “When it gets suspended in air, that’s the major challenge,” Ambrose said. In that scenario, even a small fire can lead to a massive conflagration.

“If anyone sees dust,” he said, “better to clean it up immediately.”

ADM has, at times, been slow to address maintenance issues. A stark example is the aftermath of the Christmas Eve explosion in Nebraska, which has not been previously reported. Newquist said the discussions detailed in the OSHA investigation are “rare” — company managers and executives are generally more tight-lipped.

After getting upset, the plant’s manager, Eric Stanley, took the safety inspector to his office. Stanley, who told the inspector he was “under intense pressure” from his bosses, unburdened himself. He had not stopped working in the week since the fire, he said, and he knew the facility was behind on dust maintenance.

Eventually, Stanley told the inspector he was “happy” OSHA was now investigating. When asked why, the inspector later wrote, “Stanley stated that (ADM) is finally doing things that needed to be done. (He) indicated that he has brought things to their attention in the past and no action was being taken.”

After OSHA’s visit, the plant was shut down for about a week. Soon after, ADM fired the facility’s maintenance contractor, A-Lert Construction Services, a Kansas-based company that installs and maintains dust collection systems. When the inspector interviewed an A-Lert manager, he seemed salty at the dismissal. ADM did not fix anything “until it was broken,” the manager said.

A-Lert did not respond to requests for comment. ADM did not comment on A-Lert’s responsibilities.

A-Lert’s performance later became a central issue at a meeting — it’s unclear where, based on reports — between OSHA and ADM. The inspector, Stanley and an ADM corporate lawyer were present.

Also attending was a longtime safety executive, David Frazelle. His tenure at ADM began in 1979. Over the years, he traveled the country to hand out safety awards, and he defended ADM against OSHA oversight. In one case, OSHA fined the company $7,000 for exposing workers to an unsafe manlift. Before an administrative law judge, Frazelle successfully argued the manlift was exempt from OSHA protections. At the time of the meeting, he was the executive in charge of safety for all of ADM’s milling operations, the places most at risk for dust explosions.

Frazelle said A-Lert employees lacked strong mechanical skills and were unqualified to work at the Fremont facility. Then, he acknowledged Stanley had told the truth: The plant manager had been raising the alarm for a while.

“I’m going to say something that our attorney isn’t going to like,” Frazzelle said, according to the inspector’s notes. “Eric has been trying to get rid of the maintenance company for quite some time.”

Frazzelle retired in February. Asked for comment, he replied to an Investigate Midwest email with a screenshot of ADM’s media relations webpage.

A century of dust explosions

Dust explosions have plagued the industry for at least a century, almost as long as ADM has existed. In 1919, a Cedar Rapids, Iowa, starch factory blew, killing 43. Five years later, 42 died at a corn processor in Pekin, Illinois. In 1927, ADM formed its grain division.

Deadly incidents continued throughout the 20th century. In the late 1980s, a rash of explosions prompted OSHA to act. A new rule forced companies to practice preventative maintenance, write housekeeping policies and create escape plans. The agency also defined how much dust was considered safe, an 1/8 of an inch. “If you can write dust on the floor, that’s too much dust,” said Newquist, the former OSHA administrator.

Since the rule, the number of dust explosions, and the number of deaths, has decreased dramatically, according to OSHA. Still, dangers exist. In 2008, at the Imperial Sugar Company in Savannah, Georgia, managers had allowed “massive accumulations” of sugar dust to build up. The explosion killed 14 and injured dozens. OSHA fined the company more than $6 million.

Experts said, overall, facilities that generate dust have made strides in preventing incidents. In the past decade, the agriculture industry has averaged about eight explosions per year, according to Purdue University figures. It’s a good sign the average isn’t changing, Ambrose said. At times, though, he’s surprised at the lack of knowledge of some of the industry insiders he trains. “They never knew that dust could explode,” he said.

ADM has its own history of incidents. In 1998, five men were injured at its Decatur facility. They were investigating a smoldering fire inside a piece of equipment, and, when they opened it, the full blast hit them. Explosions also occurred in 2005, 2007, 2008 and 2011. Few injuries were reported, but one man died.

In 2013, ADM aimed to improve its overall safety management, which included a “focus on serious and potentially serious events,” according to corporate documents. In June 2016, it announced it had just had its safest year in company history. Adding to the good news, a press release proclaimed ADM had reduced all workplace incidents by two-thirds in the past decade.

In the press release, ADM’s president and CEO, Juan Luciano, said workplace safety had become a “cornerstone of our culture, but our work won’t be complete until we have eliminated 100 percent of the incidents and injuries companywide. We have an ongoing journey to zero.” It was important to take time, he continued, “to reflect on what we’ve done well and also what we can do better in the future.”

While ADM was trumpeting its safety culture, its negligence, OSHA found, was laying the groundwork for a devastating dust explosion.

Months after Luciano’s statement, a maintenance contractor inspected a chemical suppression system at the Decatur facility. The system was critical to preventing explosions. It was linked to an indoor bucket elevator, which shot grain upward and flung dust into the air. If the suppression system sensed an ignition, it would suffocate the fire, preventing destruction. The National Fire Protection Association, which sets industry standards, requires the system to be inspected every three months.

But no one else would inspect the system for years, with life-altering consequences.

ADM allowed first-responders to douse a smoldering silo. It was a fatal choice.

Two hours before sunrise on Saturday, Jan. 5, 2019, at ADM’s Clinton, Iowa, facility, a group of contractors arrived at a row of six concrete silos along the Mississippi River. Each silo was about 100 feet tall, 24 feet wide and more than a foot thick. Typically, about a thousand workers bustled around the facility, but on weekends, there was a skeleton crew, including contractors.

What they found that morning would prove deadly.

Inside one of the silos, wet, processed corn had crusted into a hardened bridge. The contractors had been blasting the blockage with water for months, trying to break it apart. The night before, they’d opened the silo’s hatches, allowing air to flow through. As they began again that morning, they noticed the corn material tumbling out — it was black, burnt.

The product had self-ignited. When stored, organic material can produce its own heat. Any exposure to oxygen can start a fire.

Silo fires have been a known risk for decades, and a growing body of research prior to 2019 showed what factors caused them and how to prevent smoldering burns from turning into destructive explosions. In 1988, Pennsylvania researchers published a study with a succinct conclusion: “Do nothing to increase the level of oxygen or air inside the silo,” the authors wrote. “Opening the top hatch cover to dump water or foam inside can create an explosive mixture.”

Simply, the best way to handle a silo fire is to close any openings and let it burn itself out. No one at the ADM facility that day knew that.

ADM did not answer questions about what its corporate safety team understand about silo fires or whether any plant personnel were trained on how to handle them safely. Small fires had occurred in the silos before, but ADM did not answer questions about what lessons were learned.

Alerted to the fire, ADM plant managers quickly gathered to determine how to proceed. They asked the contractors to douse the fire, but the contractors refused, citing lack of training. Around the same time, managers announced the emergency over the radio and called the Clinton Fire Department. 

At 5:52 a.m., fire trucks arrived, and first-responders huddled with plant management about 500 feet north of the smoking silo.

ADM has hotly contested what happened next.

Two independent investigations, by a state office and a federal agency, concluded firefighters were given inaccurate information that determined their response. They were not told the silo contained potentially explosive corn material. Instead, they understood it housed a less flammable product. An explosion was also unlikely, they were told, because contractors had been soaking the material for months.

ADM has denied the findings. In a later court case, company lawyers deposed a firefighter who said ADM staff told him the silo could blow because of “corn dust.” The company claims the firefighter did not tell his supervisors.

ADM has not disputed what happened after, as detailed by the two government investigations. 

As smoke filtered from the silo, the fire department and plant management continued to debate the best approach. Firefighters noticed a hatch about 13 feet off the ground, large enough for a person to squeeze through. Could they pump water through it? An ADM manager cautioned against it, arguing the burning product could spill onto those who opened the hatch.

Then, it was decided water would be pumped from the roof of the silo, through a top hatch. The fire department’s ladders could not reach the roof. Two men would have to summit the silo, shouldering 50 feet of hose, and connect the nozzles. Eric Hosette, 33, and Adam Cain, 23, prepared themselves.

An ADM employee guided the firefighters along a catwalk that led to the silo’s roof. With no respirator, the smoke overcame him. He was forced to turn back several feet from their destination. He pointed to the roof and rushed away. Hosette and Cain walked through a gray haze of smoke and dust to reach the opening. They began pumping.

On the ground, a new ADM manager arrived. He told the assembled crew the burning bridge was likely below the hatch, the one firefighters had originally wanted to open. Firefighters could likely extinguish the fire in relative safety. As the manager spoke, around 8:45 a.m., gray smoke turned white.

Then, a roar.

Hosette was hurled toward the ground and landed near the river. His colleagues rushed to revive him as a helicopter was called. At the hospital, he died from his injuries.

Attention then turned to Cain. ADM employees and firefighters searched the area but were unable to find him.

After about 30 minutes of searching, a contractor told firefighters the hatch had a viewport. No one had volunteered this information before. When firefighters peered through, they saw Cain sitting semiconscious on the bridge, among chunks of the roof.

Cain was hospitalized for three weeks. He declined an interview request, saying he wanted to move on. Hosette’s widow could not be reached.

The Iowa Occupational Safety and Health Administration completed its investigation in early 2019. The National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s worker safety arm, released its report in January. (The pandemic delayed its release, a spokesperson said.)

Iowa OSHA found ADM had failed to prepare its plant personnel to handle the emergency. Managers who assumed responsibility during the incident were “not properly trained.”

They did not effectively organize the company’s response, including assigning staffers to roles they were not qualified for, such as guiding firefighters to the silo’s roof. Because of poor training, “vital information” — such as the silo’s destructive contents or the presence of a viewport — was not communicated to first-responders.

ADM commissioned its own third-party investigation from Exponent, which specializes in workplace safety reviews. The report, obtained by Investigate Midwest, did not examine the company’s role in the explosion. Instead, it examined the explosion’s root cause: Water pumped through the silo’s top hatch. (Its author, Sean Dee, who spoke at two ADM-sponsored events before his investigation, did not respond to requests for comment.)

The report concluded the buildup of combustible gas in the silo was the explosion’s likely cause, but the presence of dust “could not be ruled out.” In this scenario, the water stirred up the grain dust. Side hatches left open overnight likely fanned the flames, but the water generated ample fuel.

In April 2019, Iowa safety inspectors explained their findings to plant management and lawyers. During the meeting, ADM “expressed concern regarding the penalty size,” inspectors noted. The company was fined about $56,000, less than many plant workers’ yearly wages.

As Iowa’s investigation concluded, ADM faced questions about its actions at another facility, about 200 miles south.

At ADM’s flagship plant, dangerous dust problems were ignored

Two days after the April meeting in Iowa, federal safety inspectors visited ADM in Decatur. The campus, on the Sangamon River’s banks, is almost two square miles and provides the city’s only skyline. A few thousand employees and contractors work there. The inspectors were investigating a series of failures that had led to a fireball blowing a hole in a grain elevator.

Missed opportunities to prevent the destruction stretched back to the previous summer. During an inspection, a technician noted that parts on a dust collector needed replacing. On another dust collector, parts were incorrectly installed.

Six months later, a technician inspected the same collectors, and discovered the same problems. Yet another dust collector was also likely malfunctioning, but, the technician told the feds, he was “allowed very little time to investigate” the problem.

Also, ADM had not analyzed the risk dust posed to its facility, which is considered an industry best practice. The company didn’t even have guidelines written down for how to analyze such a risk, inspectors found. Without a policy, ADM was missing a “critical step” in determining how to prevent dust explosions.

ADM’s response to the explosion was haphazard as well, safety inspectors discovered during their April visit. After the blast, the company installed two chemical suppression systems, which could snuff out flames. However, it was unclear if the systems were “operational and effective.” Nothing documented their proper installation.

Despite the litany of issues, accountability proved elusive. In a July 2019 letter, federal officials informed ADM that “no OSHA standards generally apply to the majority of the concerns.”

In cases where specific violations aren’t on the books but an unsafe environment exists, OSHA can wield what’s called the “general duty clause.” Essentially, it ensures employers provide an overall safe workplace. The standard is rarely invoked.

In this case, OSHA officials decided it was “not considered appropriate at this time” to use the general duty clause. There would be no citations, no fines.

“In the interest of workplace safety and health,” an official told ADM at the time, “I recommend that you voluntarily take the necessary steps to eliminate or materially reduce any employee exposure” to dust explosions.

ADM did not answer Investigate Midwest’s questions about what new safety measures it implemented following OSHA’s admonishment.

In 2022, ADM’s corporate leadership unveiled a new slogan for its facilities: “Safe or We Don’t Do it.” The company announced, “We have improved our investigation work processes with a goal to prevent repeat incidents.”

The new focus was almost immediately put to the test.

Back-to-back explosions rock the Decatur plant

Around 2:50 p.m. on April 20, 2023, Antonio McElrath clocked into work on the western half of the Decatur campus. His job was in an area where grain flew through conveyor belts and bucket elevators, stirring up dust. By the time he entered, dust littered the interior.

For ADM workers, nothing about the situation seemed amiss, according to a lawsuit McElrath later filed. The outgoing shift did not indicate anything was unusual. But unknown to McElrath, the dust had already reached dangerous levels.

Later in the workday, employees discovered a bucket elevator was smoking. It was outfitted with a chemical suppression system, which theoretically could suffocate any nascent fire. But the system had not been inspected since late 2016. If it had been, inspectors would have found it was inoperable.

As smoke filled the area, McElrath was directed where to stand by his immediate supervisor, according to his lawsuit. The bucket elevator was opened. An influx of oxygen hit the smoldering grain. He heard a deafening pop.

He suffered third-degree burns across his face, torso and legs. Doctors placed him in a coma for three weeks. “He has lifelong injuries,” his lawyer said. Two other men were hospitalized with severe burns. One suffered permanent damage to his arms, hands and fingers. Another’s entire body was torched. (The men could not be reached for comment through their workers compensation attorneys.)

While their coworkers recovered, plant employees had a short reprieve. Around 7 p.m. on Sept. 10, 2023, a building processing soybeans was torn open. The explosion was one of the worst in the agriculture industry in recent years.

Eight employees were injured. Helicopters rushed at least four to trauma centers. One man was transported 150 miles east to Indianapolis for specialized burn treatment, according to the Decatur Herald & Review. Another man’s lungs were burned. A single mother of two suffered burns on her back. (None of the workers could be reached for comment.)

A month later, OSHA fined ADM $325,000 for the April explosion. The company’s failure to inspect the chemical suppression system for several years was a major reason for the hefty fine. Also, OSHA mandated the company develop a “written housekeeping plan” — which it first suggested the company do after its 2019 explosion — to ensure dust does not reach dangerous levels.

ADM is contesting the fine, which is currently at about $200,000. While the fine amount is debated, OSHA’s investigation into the April 2023 explosion remains open. The agency fined ADM about $50,000 for the September 2023 explosion, and that investigation also remains open, as ADM contests the fine. (Detailed accounts about how the explosions started are not available until the investigations are administratively closed.)

David Horn, a Decatur city council member, said, if “systemic issues” plague ADM’s operations, the company must address them. But assessing the quality of ADM’s safety oversight will be challenging if the company is not sharing information publicly, Horn said.

The only communication between the company and the city about the explosions appears to be a single email exchange. Gregory Webb, an ADM lobbyist, forwarded the company’s public statement about the September explosion to Decatur Mayor Julie Moore-Wolf. She replied, in full, “Thank you!”

When asked about her communication with ADM, Moore-Wolf said, “My initial concerns were about the injured workers, and their progress toward recovery. I do not recall specific dates or details of communications regarding the accident.”

Without a full accounting of the changes ADM is pursuing, it can be difficult to trust the company’s actions, Horn said. “I think it would create greater confidence among our city residents to hear from ADM: This is what happened, these are the steps that we have taken since then and this is why these types of incidents won’t happen again.”

Grey Moran also contributed to this story.

Investigate Midwest is an independent, nonprofit newsroom. Our mission is to serve the public interest by exposing dangerous and costly practices of influential agricultural corporations and institutions through in-depth and data-driven investigative journalism. Visit us online at www.investigatemidwest.org.

This article first appeared on Investigate Midwest and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.