High School: Accident In Metal Shop

In the days after destroying my knife, I felt miserable. I was depressed, angry and confused. "Why wouldn’t anyone believe me?" I wondered. "Why did they make me destroy it?" Sometimes the problem with people in responsibility is that they don’t explain their actions, thinking them perfectly obvious. This causes them to be resented, and even hated.

One day in metal shop, I came up with a new project. If they wouldn’t let me make fantasy weapons, maybe they’d let me make a goblet instead. "Yeah", I thought, "how can they complain about a goblet. It’s completely harmless."

I again visited the public library, and again spent days making my plans. It was to be made of aluminum, because that was a nice, light metal which happened to be very easy to shape and mold.

First, I got a four-inch thick piece of aluminum, cylindrical in shape. I cut a six inch long piece from this, giving me a piece of metal that was perfectly shaped for my project. Then I drilled out the center, giving me a place to put liquid.

It was time to put the piece of metal on the lathe to get the outside carved into a goblet shape. Once that was done, I intended to use smaller drills and torches to get everything perfect. Then I’d get my friend in jewelry shop to help me put on the final touches.

Everything went along perfectly until I put the piece of metal into the lathe. I was distracted, still a little angry at the shop teacher, and I wasn’t feeling very good to boot. So I forgot to take off my tie, or tie down my long sleeves.

I was standing in front of the lathe, which is a huge, powerful machine, merrily cutting away pieces of aluminum, when Mr. Vandenberg yelled, "Richard! Get that tie off now!"

He shouldn’t have done that, because I turned around to see what he was talking about. When I did, my tie got stuck in the lathe. The machine grabbed it, and pulled it right off my neck! Fortunately, it was a clip-on tie, so I didn’t get pulled in with it.

My hands came up in order to keep my face from the spinning metal on the lathe, and my right hand came down hard on the sharp cutting blade. That blade cut a good three inches deep into my palm!

The lathe wasn’t finished, however. It grabbed the sleeve of my shirt, and ripped it right off. It didn’t drag my hand with it, because it was firmly held in place by the blade, fortunately. That blade saved my hand. Otherwise, the spinning metal would probably have taken it right off.

Blood was everywhere. It was literally spurting out of the cut in my hand, all over the floor. I found this fascinating! I felt absolutely no pain, since the blade had severed the nerves responsible for that function.

I must give Mr. Vandenberg some credit. He acted very fast and responsibly that day. He pulled my hand from the blade, and wrapped it in a towel. Then he my parents. They soon arrived and rushed me to the hospital. We didn’t have to wait, they brought me right in to the doctor.

"Can you put up a mirror?" I asked the doctor. "I want to watch."

"Sure", the doctor said. The nurse looked skeptical, but complied with his order to get a mirror. "Not squeamish, eh?"

"Nope", I said, "It’s pretty neat."

The doctor laughed, then told me to shut up. This was tricky work, he said. I watched, fascinated, for the next half hour as he sewed my hand back up. I have never been queasy at the sight of blood, even my own.

Metal shop got a lot easier after that. I think Mr. Vandenberg felt a little guilty. After all, it was his shop, he shouldn’t have let me wear a tie. I admit I took blatant advantage of him - after that, I spent half my time reading science fiction books instead of doing class projects. He let me get away with it, and gave me a decent grade for the class.