Steve's "Is he dead yet?" reminded me of this.


Dear Sirs,

I am writing in response to your request for additional information.  In block number 3 of the accident reporting form, I put "TRYING TO DO THE JOB ALONE,"

as the cause of the accident.  You said in your letter that I should explain more fully, and I trust that the following details will be sufficient.

I am a bricklayer by trade.  On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building.  When I completed my work I discovered that

I had about 500 lbs. of brick left over.  Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley, which fortunately was

attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor.

Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks onto it.  Then, I went back to the ground and untied the rope,

holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 500 lbs. of brick.  You will note in block number 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 135 pounds.

Due to my surprise of being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope.  Needless to say, I proceeded at a rather

rapid rate up the side of the building.

In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming down.  This explains the fractured skull and broken collarbone.

Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.

Fortunately, by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope in spite of my pain.

At approximately the same time however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel.  Devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel

now weighed approximately 50 pounds.

I refer you again to my weight in block 11.  As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building.

In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up.  This accounts for the two fractured ankles and lacerations of my legs and lower body.

The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of bricks and fortunately, only three vertebrae were cracked.

I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the bricks in pain, unable to stand and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my

presence of mind...

I LET GO OF THE ROPE!

The Brick Layer's Song

The old bricklayer song reminded me of something that happened to my dad and this is absolutely true.

About 30 years ago my folks moved into a 1930's built house which needed a bit of work doing on it. One of the first jobs tackled was renovating the bathroom.

To best understand this story you need to understand the layout of the house.

On opening the front door the staircase was in front of you and a bit to the right.  At the top of the stairs was the bathroom door. The toilet was facing the door, the wash basin was to the left of the toilet as you looked at it and the bath was on the far left. Above the toilet was a window which opened onto the back garden.

The plumber we employed to do the work was  family friend and my dad and myself were his labourers. The basin and toilet were removed with no trouble and dumped in a skip.

The bath was a different matter as it was a particularly big one and made of cast iron and very heavy.

Room was tight for enough people to get the bath down the stairs so the plumber and myself acted act the brakes and steering as we guided it, upside down, down the stairs and out of the front door. For added safety we tied a rope round the bath, threw it out of the window and my dad, who in all honesty was under tall for his weight, would hold onto the rope to act as another brake.

All went well until the plumber missed a step while walking backward down the stairs and he let go of the bath,  but I couldn't hold it by myself.

Now my mum was in the kitchen, which was directly under the bathroom and looked out onto the back garden. She was surprised to see my dad running quite fast toward the house tugging on a rope and even more surprised when he proceeded, at equally high speed, to scale the side of the house while all the time uttering obscenities.

By the time the plumber and myself had the bath under control again we at the front door, but my dad was by the bathroom window. We later found out that he had wrapped the rope around his waist and tied it. Unfortunately the plumber and me didn't know my dad was dangling at the bathroom window and we removed the rope from the bath, which, of course was the only thing  countering the not inconsiderable weight of my old man.

Now while my dad was rising in the world, he was thinking on his feet, well perhaps not his feet,  anticipating that we might not know he was up the wall and so undo the rope which of course we did, but my dad had the presence of mind the make a grab for the window frame so he did not fall.

It was while we were undoing the rope that our next door neighbour arrived to inform us that for some (at least to him) inexplicable reason, my dad was in an unusual predicament.

Now I ask you, has anyone tried to raise a ladder while having extreme difficulty in breathing because of almost hysterical laughter and blinded because of the tears flowing down our faces? It was not helped by the non stop, fluent flow of profanities being uttered.

You will recall that the toilet had been removed which was bit unfortunate for my dad, who after his adventures was in dire need of one.

Steve M wrote on Apr 21^st, 2011 at 6:15pm: