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                                |  Posted: Sun Oct 15, 2006 11:01 pm    Post subject: Saw Accident Angel Story |   |  
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                                | In April of 1997, while working on the partial demolition of an old sale barn, I was
 struck in the upper thigh by a circular saw.  We, my friend Steve and I, had worked
 all day on this project, taking load after load to the county dump.  We were both tired,
 but there was not much left to do; so we decided to finish.  I stood there for a few
 moments chastising myself for wanting to quit.  I told myself, "You will keep going till
 it's done."  I bent over to cut up one more old cattle gate to throw in the dump truck,
 when suddenly the saw caught in the wood and shot itself backwards...into my leg.
 People should know that I was aware it had a faulty saw guard, but was using it
 thinking better me than my friend Steve.  Sounds noble I know, but I had already been
 joking that if I got cut it wouldn't do much damage, because I am a large guy.  Oh,
 sweet irony.
 
 Now, many factors are playing out at the same time.  The saw rips into my leg, and
 stops a half inch into my leather belt (the one my brother gave me from an old police
 uniform).  Because of my size, the blade did not hit an artery or bone or anything,
 other than the fat in my leg.  Now the cut was nine inches long, and two and a half
 inches deep.  Had my friend been using it, he would have likely died before help
 could be called.
 
 Steve in that moment thought I had only ripped my shirt, having been bent over when
 it happened.  I said, "Dammit, I'm probably gonna' need some help."  He took off
 running for the phone in the barn, as I took my first shaky steps to find out if my leg
 was still attached.  I made it as far as the landowner's home about 200 yards away,
 when I heard sirens in the distance.  Help was coming.  "Keep it together," I said as
 much about my wits as my leg.
 
 So, here it is. The moment of truth. The blade was so hot from my refusal to quit, that
 it almost cauterized my wound from the moment it struck me; little or no blood loss.
 My very girth kept it from getting to anything major.  The phone, in the sale barn had
 been disconnected years ago.  The landowners were unable to get through to 911.
 No one in that area (at that moment in time) had a cell phone.  Who called the
 ambulance?  Most heroes are at best shy, but someone would have said something
 wouldn't they?  The only answer is that as secluded as the area was where we were,
 no one but Steve and I knew what happened in the alotted time to call and get
 an ambulance; almost three miles through the residential section of town.
 
 You decide.  I already know.
 
 from Larry
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