My 17 year old son, Connor, and I were throwing the Frisbee the other day with his mother. One of the few moments in which we could stand each other's company for more than ten minutes at a time. The Frisbee ended up on the roof of the house, thrown by Connor so he has to go get it. His mother and I (I really do not like acknowledging that she is my wife) wait for him to come out the window of his room on the second story and climb out on the roof. Instead, he appears in the window of my office where I keep my collection. I scream at the top of my lungs for him to not attempt to come out that window. I have shells stacked every where in front of and around the window. He gave me his repeated, two-hands in front of his face wave, that I have learned means "I am not listening to you". I get that wave everyday. He proceeds to start climbing out the window, then disappears back inside. We hear the metallic crashing of objects for the next 10-15 seconds. It sounds like a Bugs Bunny cartoon when someone falls downstairs. I am cringing the whole time and tell my wife we have just had our net savings reduced by several hundred dollars. We do not hear anything for a full minute. I finally go inside to find him with his arms around a large portion of my collection attempting to keep it from crashing to the floor. He is bleeding profusely from his thumb with a pool of blood on some of my shells from where I believe a Russian 76mm AP shell smashed his thumb. He never said anything; he was just holding it all from falling and suffering in great pain - to afraid to call for help.
That is as close as I have ever come to killing anyone.
I thought about it some more. That is not true. His mother came closer to death a few times.
That is as close as I have ever come to killing anyone.
I thought about it some more. That is not true. His mother came closer to death a few times.
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