Linda Feuerhelm’s Mission to Make Sure Everyone Gets Home Safe

Some people work in safety because it is their job. Linda Feuerhelm works in safety because, for her, it has always been personal.

When Linda was 13, her father died in a head-on collision. He was the passenger in the vehicle. The woman driving survived, but the man in the other vehicle also lost his life. That loss changed everything.

Since then, safety has never been abstract for her. It has never been about paperwork, policy binders, or checking a compliance box. It has been about one thing: making sure no one else gets that knock on the door.

That mission still drives her today.

People who know Linda know she brings more than technical knowledge to the table. She brings urgency, heart, humour, and a deep sense of responsibility to the communities she serves. In small towns and close-knit industries, she says, tragedy does not stay contained in one household. It ripples through families, workplaces, and entire communities. That is why her approach to safety puts care first.

“People know I care,” she said. “I really want everyone to make it home safe.”

That care shows up in her teaching, her advocacy, and her fight for change.

Safety Starts Long Before an Incident

Linda does not see safety as something that begins with a hard hat or a checklist. For her, safety starts with how people are treated.

She speaks openly about bullying, harassment, inclusion, and psychological safety as foundational parts of any healthy workplace. In her view, people cannot learn properly, speak up honestly, or work safely if they are constantly looking over their shoulders.

That belief has made her an outspoken advocate for better workplace culture, especially in industries where toxic behaviour is too often brushed off, excused, or even rewarded.

She points to bullying and harassment as one of the most overlooked issues in workplace safety. Problem employees, she says, are too often promoted rather than dealt with. That creates real harm, especially for young workers, women, and anyone entering industries where they already feel they must prove they belong.

Linda ties this directly to learning. If workers are distracted by fear, shame, exclusion, or humiliation, they are not in the right mindset to absorb critical information. They are not focused on the lesson. They are focused on surviving the environment around them.

That is one reason her teaching style stands out.

She is not, as she puts it, a “finger waver.” She does not rely on authority for authority’s sake. Instead, she asks questions that make people think. If a worker resists a rule or sees PPE as unnecessary, she does not simply repeat the policy. She explains the reason behind it in real, human terms.

“If you fell in the water right now,” she might ask, “do you think I could save you? Can you give me a better chance by wearing your life jacket?”

That approach reflects who she is as both a learner and an instructor. Linda has always been the kind of person who asks, “But why?” If a policy does not make sense, she keeps asking until it does. And when she teaches, she brings that same mindset to the people in front of her.

She knows rules stick better when people understand the consequences behind them.

Turning Tragedy into Action

If Linda’s early loss gave her a reason to care, another tragedy gave her a platform to act.

In 2021, the tugboat Ingenika capsized in rough waters in the Gardner Canal in northern British Columbia. Two crew members, 58-year-old Troy Pearson and 25-year-old Charley Cragg, lost their lives. Cragg was on his first day of work and had received no onboarding. The investigation and aftermath exposed troubling gaps in training access, readiness, and systemic failures in the marine sector.

For Linda, the story hit hard.

It was not just the loss of life that stayed with her. It was the preventability of it. It was the reality that geography, poor access to training, and weak systems had left workers exposed. It was the fact that northern and Indigenous communities, despite living and working closest to the water, were still being underserved when it came to education and opportunity.

So, she started asking questions. Then she started making calls. Then she started fighting.

She connected with the families affected by the tragedy and asked permission to tell their stories in her classes, so future mariners would understand what was at stake. She worked with Charley Cragg’s mother to help establish a scholarship in his name. She listened to Troy Pearson’s widow describe how limited access to education in northern communities had contributed to larger systemic failures.

And then she did what Linda does best. She took action.

She did not just talk about change. She helped build it.

What began as advocacy grew into action. Linda ultimately helped build a school in northern British Columbia, with a focus on improving access to marine education and training in communities that had long been overlooked. It was a bold step. One she admits she did not know how to take when she first started. But that has never stopped her before.

As she tells it, sometimes the answer is simple: do it anyway.

That same determination also fueled one of the accomplishments she is most proud of: helping change SVOP laws in Ottawa during COVID, “while in my pajamas,” as she jokes. It is a line that captures her perfectly. She is tenacious, funny, practical, and completely unwilling to sit quietly when she sees a problem that could cost lives.