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As I was delivering a couple of
packages to “Parker’s Canvas Awning” one day, circa 1990, and I was closing my
bulkhead, and preparing to navigate the first of three steps to the ground, I
accidently closed the door on my left pinky finger.
As Jackie Gleason might have
said, (and I, no doubt, thought)
“What a revolting development!”
I found myself standing in the
cab of old #59299 facing a steel bulkhead with the little finger of my left
hand securely intact inside the framework of the over-sized metal door.
And since the lock to the door
was on the left side, and my keys were in the opposite free hand which remained
to me, I found myself “between a rock and a hard place.”
And as Mrs. Faixfax in the
novel, “Jane Eyre” was prone to say,
“What to do? What to do?”
While
my memory of that event is not as clear as it once was, it seems apparent at
this juncture that I must have screamed for assistance. At any rate, it was
about this time that Mrs. Parker made her appearance, and I attempted to help
her help me by handing her my bulkhead key, and instructing her to insert it in
the wall lock with her left hand, while pulling the door strap away from her
with her right hand; to no avail. For as much as she pulled, the bulkhead door
refused to move. My stuck finger somehow disallowed the door from coming away
from the frame.
By now, I realized there was
only one thing to do. I began to pull my left pinky finger out, and towards my
body. I would either leave it in the door, or it would rejoin the remainder of
my anatomy.
However, I regret to report that
I pulled out a skeletal shadow of what my little finger had previously looked
like, and I left the majority of my flesh and blood inside the framework of the
door.
(Gotcha)!
Actually, by this time my left
pinky finger was 95% intact, and considering what it had endured, I think both
I, and Mrs. Parker were happy enough with the results.
Bill McDonald, PhD
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