Some services you never forget.
Not because they were big in the news, but because everything comes together in a single moment.

A day on which a 60-metre-high crane topples over.
A day when an entire environment suddenly becomes a high-risk area.
And a day when you hear amidst the chaos: “My waters have broken.”

This is one of the stories that Johan (now owner of BAEK Beveiliging) experienced as a security guard, when he was still a security team leader at a major client 19 years ago.

The blow that stopped everything

It is a cold January day in 2007. Johan is sitting with colleagues in a building about a kilometre away from a large complex, when suddenly:

“We heard a bang. Not just any sound, more like there was an earthquake. The windows rattled. Everyone looked at each other: what ís this?”

Almost immediately afterwards comes the report via the control room: a crane has fallen over. On the site. Onto a building.

No standard scenario. No exercise. No step-by-step plan.

60 metres of steel, a building and a crushed car

On site, it quickly becomes clear how serious it is. A crane of about 60 metres high has tipped over due to the wind. The crane has ended up on a building. In the car park next to it, a light-coloured van is practically underneath the point of impact.

And then that car.

Inside the boom of a crane is a huge winch motor. That has broken loose, landed on the car, gone straight through the bonnet, and then smashed into the ground.

“That engine wasn't lying on the ground. It was embedded in the ground. As if someone had smashed a crater, driving both the car engine and the crane engine deep into the earth.”

Miraculously, nobody is injured. At that moment, hardly anyone is present in the building. But that doesn't mean the danger has passed.

On the contrary.

From incident to risk area

Where many people mostly see the image of that fallen crane in such an incident, a security guard immediately thinks more broadly:

• What lies beneath the ground?
• Which pipes could have been hit?
• Is there a risk of the building collapsing?
• How do we keep bystanders at a distance?
• How do we ensure that emergency services can work unhindered?

“We knew there were gas pipes (and probably electricity cables too). If a machine like that hits a pipe and a spark occurs somewhere, you're no longer talking about ‘just a crane that's fallen over’. Then you have a risk of explosion.”

The task is therefore clear: the environment (what Johan de perimeter noemt) is cordoned off extensively. Roads are closed, routes diverted, and curious onlookers kept at a distance. Not only to prevent anyone from getting too close, but also to give space to the fire service, police, technical services, and crane experts.

And then there is another constant factor with this kind of incident: the press.

“The press is coming from all sides. And everyone wants one thing: closer. But your job is the opposite. Ribbons, distance, sharing no information. Safety first, then stories.”

No step-by-step plan, just true craftsmanship

On paper, there's a protocol for everything. In practice, things sometimes drop out of the sky (literally) that aren't in any manual.

“There was no step-by-step plan for ‘crane fallen onto building’. How often does that happen, after all? Virtually never. So then you fall back on your training, your experience, your team and your common sense.”

That means:

• Spotting risks most people miss.
• Take ownership of your role, but do not exceed your remit.
• Discuss, coordinate, execute.
• One task, full focus: “This area is closing, and absolutely nobody gets through.”

That seemingly “boring” work (closing off an area, guarding tape) is precisely what is crucial.

“People think: yes, you're just standing there doing not very much. But you do ensure that a second accident doesn't happen. No children slipping under tape, no bystanders in a potentially explosive area. That might feel small, but it's essential.”

Security here isn't about acting tough in a hi-vis vest. It's about anticipating risks, thinking through scenarios, and sometimes just standing flat on your feet for hours on end to prevent others from getting there.

Service versus daughter

The hours are ticking away. It is all hands on deck. The whole team is being mobilised; Johan is working extra shifts, staying late, and going back the next day.

Then the phone rings.

“My wife called: her waters had broken. Our daughter was on her way.”

And then the choice becomes brutally concrete: staying put at a serious incident, or driving home to be at the birth of your child.

“Then you have to choose. And of course you choose your daughter. But that doesn't mean you just abandon your position. I arranged for cover first, called my colleague, handed over my task properly. Only when he was there did I drive off.”

With an hour's travel time and the necessary delays, he doesn't arrive at the hospital until much later. Fortunately, his daughter takes her time a bit longer. Johan is there for the birth.

And that is why that day is etched so deeply in his memory: the falling crane, the rattling of the windows, the crater in the ground and, in parallel, the realisation that his life at home is about to change.

Security is about people

An overturned crane, vibrating windows, tape, emergency services and gas pipes: it is the kind of scenario that many people read about, but which as a security guard you find yourself right in the middle of.

And yet, in the middle of all that steel and concrete, it is always about people again:

• The employees, visitors and local residents who need to get home safely.
• The emergency services that need a clear path.
• The colleagues you have standing next to you.
• And sometimes: the partner who rings to say that a new life is beginning.

That is security as we see it. No anonymous “service”, but taking responsibility when it matters.