LISBON — It took just a second to change Eric Giguere's life.

One second, he was a 27-year-old contractor kneeling in a trench, ready to fix a broken pipe. He was a young, invincible tough-guy, only six days married and taking a few safety shortcuts.

A second later he was buried in dirt over his head, his lungs crushed and his ribs broken when the sides of the trench collapsed.

"We all take shortcuts, to save time and to save money," Giguere told 350 Maine construction and excavation contractors Friday. "But we didn't end up saving any time that day. We didn't end up saving any money."

Giguere was the exclamation point on a half-day seminar about excavation safety and trench-digging training at the Lisbon Falls office of Enterprise Trenchless Technologies Incorporated. Sponsored by the Associated General Contractors of Maine, the seminar featured presentations on standards set by the Occupational Safety and Health Administration and talks by local contractors on how to dig safely.

OSHA considers trench-digging an "emphasis program," said safety trainer Martha Catavenis. That means that OSHA inspectors are required to stop and review every dig site every time they see one, even if they are simply driving past.

"This has been an OSHA emphasis program since 1985," Catavenis said. "Usually, they create an emphasis program and it lasts for five years. They stop, eventually, when we figure out how to do it right. Do you know why this is still an emphasis program? Because you all still suck at it. That's not a joke. It's true."

Catavenis handed out copies of a safety checklist, which included required safety equipment, wall supports and boxes for trenches deeper than 6 feet.

Bob Grondin, vice president of R.J. Grondin and Sons, and George Keim of Shaw Brothers Construction urged contractors to plan their digs carefully, check the soil and make sure the people outside the hole keep an eye on those in it.

Catavenis and other speakers talked about the hows and the what.

Giguere talked about why.

He said he was just like the rest of the people in the room: a hardworking, blue-collar man. He was working for a construction contractor in upstate New York and was planning to leave on his honeymoon when he finished his shift on Oct. 4, 2002.

His crew had been digging a trench for new sewer and water lines along a state highway, and they were moving quickly.

"You know how it is — production, production, production," he said. As an excavator in front dug the ditch, Giguere and another man put down pipe and attached it and a second excavator refilled the trench. A superintendent watched over the project. They were installing 1,000 feet of pipe each day.

When the lead excavator accidentally broke a water line, Giguere's partner climbed out of the 6½-foot trench to get equipment to fix it. The superintendent, who was supposed to be monitoring the work, had left to pick up some gravel.

Giguere let out a scream as the dirt walls collapsed and buried him, but he didn't think he'd been heard. He guessed he remained conscious for a minute or more, before passing out.

"It was the longest time in my life," he said. "I couldn't move, I couldn't see and when I let out my breath, the dirt crushed my chest more. I couldn't breathe."

Giguere had been heard, and his partner ran back and alerted the backhoe operator. Together, they managed to free Giguere's head, then his torso, then his knees. He survived, thanks to CPR and sheer luck.

But it wasn't over. Tons of dirt had broken all of his ribs and other bones and the lack of oxygen had left him brain-damaged. To this day, he has nightmares and is afraid of the dark.

"The only way I can get eight hours of sleep is if I can jam some pills down my throat," he said.

His wife divorced him last December.

"The man she married six days before died that day," Giguere said.  "She was married to someone else, someone who was afraid of the dark."

Giguere said he blames himself as much as anyone else. From the backhoe drivers to the superintendent, everyone knew the crew was taking dangerous shortcuts.

"We just didn't think we'd get caught," he said. "How many here have done that, taken shortcuts because we didn't think we'd get caught? Well, my superintendent had been taking shortcuts for years, and it took 30 years to catch up. But it caught up."

staylor@sunjournal.com