Memory from Dale. Elisabeth's Second oldest son.

Wait Till Your Father Gets Home

I remember it was in the fall of 1957. We were living on Uncle Harry’s Christmas tree farm up in the valley. Dad had put up the tree trimming and cutting tools for the winter.

I had a fascination for just how large of a branch the big loppers could cut through so I went to the shed and found a pair of long heavy loppers. They were an old pair, heavy steel with wooden handles. I started with small branches that had fallen from the big maple tree in the front yard and worked my way up to the front of the house, finding bigger branches as I went.

That’s when I saw it, the ultimate object to be tested. Now mom was always very forgiving and patient with us kids, but on the other hand dad wasn't.

I grabbed the loppers and spread the jaws apart, then set them on the ground. Being only five years old I didn't have the strength to control them while holding on at the wooden handles so I grabbed near the jaws and put them around my intended subject. At this point I could grab the wooden handles and pull the jaws shut, so I did.

Now mom, she always kept a close eye on us younger siblings and had this ability to suddenly appear from out of now where just as we were about to do some thing that could result in bodily harm to our selves. Through all the sparks I saw her standing there not knowing weather it was safer to grab the loppers or me first.

By the time mom made her decision I had already dropped them the ground and the sparks had subsided. I had cut the electrical wire that came from the transformer on the telephone pole to our house and down to the fuse box in the cellar. Mom swept me up in her arms and did a quick check of my senses, then cradled me giving thanks that she hadn't lost another child. The only thing that prevented me from being electrocuted were the wooden handles.

Mom never did tell any of us kids “Wait till your father gets home!” But I knew the thought must have been on her mind and I did see stars twice that day, the moment those cutters touched the wires and then again when my father got home.

Love -n- hugs
Dale -N- Nette

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