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THE FALL
It was a hot day on August 5, 1964. The days were especially hot. Dick Trunbull, the crew chief, a week before, ended the work day when he fainted briefly running the cement trolley at the top of the silo. Dick Turnbull was one of the toughest people I had ever met. We were a crew of silo builders who would build a silo a week and move to the next farm all over Michigan and Indiana. And we were in shape due to the cement bags and the silo construction work. While we were based out of Pettisville, Ohio, I never was on a crew working in Ohio. We were building a silo in Camden, Michigan, just over the Ohio border. Somehow, I ended up with a different crew that week. In the midday I was carrying two metal forms, 2”x 2” hooked together with twine that had fallen from above. As I reached the top of the inside “ladder” I reached inside for the last rung. I either missed it or briefly fainted or whatever. I do remember the fall and the sudden impact. I had time to think or say “Oh God, no!” The impact created “shooting stars” and a combination of red and white images that I can still remember. The substitute crew chief seemed to take forever to come down from the top and reach me as I lay gasping for air. I had just fallen approximately 32 feet backwards and landed on my shoulder. Somehow I did not land on my head. In later years, I would conclude that it was God breaking the fall. When the crew chief arrived from up top, I recall asking him if my legs were sticking up in the air. He said no. I told him “then I must have broken my back”. This really disturbed him. As I lay waiting for the ambulance with him my gasping for air subsided and I was real thirsty and begged him for some water. He finally agreed to give me some, provided I did not swallow it. When the ambulance and doctor arrived, I was asked what hurt. After describing what I was feeling I remember asking for something for pain. Whatever they gave me worked and I recall being carrying out of the silo on a stretcher and was very fearful that they would drop me.
The pain medication soon kicked in and I do not recall anything after that for days and after a back surgery. I’m told that I was taken to a hospital in Monpelier, and then transferred to St. Vincent’s in Toledo, Ohio. I’m told that when the minister, Charles Gautsche, began reading the Lord’s Prayer in the emergency room in Monpelier, I took over and recited it without assistance. I had learned that prayer in the Child Study Institute in Toledo. My stay there was for about 3 months, as I awaited my first of many foster home placements as a 11 year old, a new "ward of the court".
