Times I Almost Bought the Farm
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We have all done it – we look back and say, “It’s a miracle I lived to grow up.” Miracle or damned good luck, you probably have some good stories. So let’s hear them. I had a quiet childhood, but here are mine, in order by age:
When I was about nine, I stopped on the shoulder of the road straddling my bike. I heard a car coming REALLY fast. He went by me at probably 70-80 miles per hour, and missed me by a whole foot. I’m pretty sure he never saw me at all. It would have been a fashionable demise, because he was driving a classic 1957 Chevy.
My Dad took us deer hunting on a friend’s land. As I recall, I was allowed to carry a single-shot bolt-action .22 but no bullets. Friend’s son Joe was behind me, single file, crossing a field to get to the woods. Joe was carrying a .410 single-shot shotgun, where to cock it you pulled back on a spring-loaded plunger thing. Totally unexpected, a deer appeared on a knoll ahead. Joe -- instant burst of adrenaline -- pulled the plunger to cock his gun, but let go a little too soon, before it locked into place. Heard the slug go whirring past my ear.
I played a lot of golf in my early teens – father and uncle owned a golf course. At high speed and short range, a golf ball sounds a lot like a .410 slug. This one came off the toe of a guy’s club, on the fourth tee as I approached the third green. It passed directly in front of my eyes, but like the ‘57 Chevy it missed by 6 inches or a foot.
Near the end of high school, I went with my best buddy Ed to his family’s camp. We took a small motorboat out into the lake, maybe half a mile. His little sister, about 10, came along. We shut off the motor, and Ed and I jumped overboard for a swim. Little sis pulled the cord, started the motor, and went back to camp. I was not a strong swimmer, but fortunately I had a reasonable side stroke and could float/backstroke. Ed was bigger and stronger, so I didn’t panic because I figured he would help if I got in trouble. But the bastard was not sure he would make it himself, so off he went and thoughtfully waited for me on shore. I saw the sister again after many years, and she had absolutely no memory of her treachery.
So there are the ones that stand out for me. Let’s hear yours!
When I was about nine, I stopped on the shoulder of the road straddling my bike. I heard a car coming REALLY fast. He went by me at probably 70-80 miles per hour, and missed me by a whole foot. I’m pretty sure he never saw me at all. It would have been a fashionable demise, because he was driving a classic 1957 Chevy.
My Dad took us deer hunting on a friend’s land. As I recall, I was allowed to carry a single-shot bolt-action .22 but no bullets. Friend’s son Joe was behind me, single file, crossing a field to get to the woods. Joe was carrying a .410 single-shot shotgun, where to cock it you pulled back on a spring-loaded plunger thing. Totally unexpected, a deer appeared on a knoll ahead. Joe -- instant burst of adrenaline -- pulled the plunger to cock his gun, but let go a little too soon, before it locked into place. Heard the slug go whirring past my ear.
I played a lot of golf in my early teens – father and uncle owned a golf course. At high speed and short range, a golf ball sounds a lot like a .410 slug. This one came off the toe of a guy’s club, on the fourth tee as I approached the third green. It passed directly in front of my eyes, but like the ‘57 Chevy it missed by 6 inches or a foot.
Near the end of high school, I went with my best buddy Ed to his family’s camp. We took a small motorboat out into the lake, maybe half a mile. His little sister, about 10, came along. We shut off the motor, and Ed and I jumped overboard for a swim. Little sis pulled the cord, started the motor, and went back to camp. I was not a strong swimmer, but fortunately I had a reasonable side stroke and could float/backstroke. Ed was bigger and stronger, so I didn’t panic because I figured he would help if I got in trouble. But the bastard was not sure he would make it himself, so off he went and thoughtfully waited for me on shore. I saw the sister again after many years, and she had absolutely no memory of her treachery.
So there are the ones that stand out for me. Let’s hear yours!
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There isn’t enough internet for me to write mine down. I honestly never believed I would live to be the age I am. I’ve always had the best worst luck in the world.
- warminmn
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You havent lived until you've been shot at repeatedly (more than twice) by an angry redhead that wasnt trying to miss! Not that I held it against her... And Im glad I never taught her how to shoot!
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I did not know that my first wife moved to WI. She was a British girl and luckily we have no guns but she was very excitable.
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Excitable. That's the perfect non-judgmental word!
I'm glad we don't keep firearms easily accessible. She would regret it later. I suppose that would be some comfort...
That old saying,,,,,,,, When there is rust on the roof there is a,,,,,,,,,, Any truth to that??????
- freetown fred
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I could write a book on this one--BUT-- I'll pass!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOL
- Hambden Bob
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Yep,Aint' Nuthin' Finer Than A "Good Trainwreck" Of A Story,And This Thread Certainly Provides A Few! To The Good Of Personal Thoughts,I'm Quite Buoyed By The Fact That My "Internal Catalogue" Of "Christ,I Damned Near Bought It!" Stories Hasn't Been Very Staining Upon Me! Half Da' Time,If You Reviewed Your "Whoppers" And Left Them Fresh On Your Mental Table,You Wouldn't Leave Da' House Most Days!! Thanx For This One,Guys!
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Well, when I was 8, I think, I was sent to check something, can't remember, probably level of the water in the pond, in the back pasture. Just had to watch out for the bull. I did as I was told, go to the fence nearest the pond, wait and look for the bull. Yup, there he was way over yonder. Crawled under the fence and started for the pond, unfortunately forgot about the part about never turn your back on him. The point from where I hear him running at me until I dove back under the fence is gone to time. The scar on my back from the red brand 4 point barbed wire is just a fine line, so my wife says. My eyes aren't good enough to pick it out in the mirror.
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My mother-in-law grew up in rural England, and this story was probably 90 to 100 years ago now. She and a girlfriend went to visit an old lady. There was a big white cow blocking the footpath, so they gave it a shove. It wandered on a little way, but still blocking the path, so they had to keep shoving it out of the way. They had a nice visit with the old lady. Then when they were leaving, she said, "Now, mind the white bull! He's not to be trusted!"