Though I’d love to pontificate on the wonders of spring into summer, this is actually about a near brush with death. I even have photos of the culpret.
This attempted murderer (or more correctly, the connective cable which it was attached to) came within inches of my head.
I was heading into work this Wednesday morning, like any other Wednesday that I head into work. I had packed a bag lunch so that I could eat while working in the office and had just grabbed my motorcycle helmet, with the intent of riding my Goldwing in.
I stepped out into the garage, hitting the power button on the door opener as usual. I suddenly heard the metal break and saw the assembly fly apart, heading pretty much straight for me, when the garage door was but a foot off of the floor. (To the right is the view from where I was standing.)
At first I thought to myself, “My, as old as I am, my reactions are still cat-like!” I had managed to dodge my head to the side, narrowly escaping the peril of hundreds of foot pounds smacking my skull. I even felt the breeze when it passed.
Yeah, right! The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that though I had reacted very quickly, what I had seen was the spring while it was traveling back to where it had been, as it was still attached to another cable. I hadn’t avoided it with my reaction – shear luck had kept my skull intact. As fast as I was, I was no match for this coil of murderous speed. It had shot past me and back again, before I could react.
As the general thoughts which come with near misses of death ground through my skull, I realized that the door was still trying to rise, but not doing so well at it. I went for the power button again. The garage door made it about a third of the way up the travel, but the difference in pull between the two sides caused the door to come askew and even pop apart a few of its wheels. The mostly intact side was partly off the track at the top, while the homicidal side I was on was nearly all off of the track. Worse yet, the metal door itself was buckling in places.
Repair was not an option.
I managed to hold up the door enough for my wife to back the 4Runner out of the garage and I then carefully set to work to disconnect the brand new garage door opener from the door, before the door had a chance to kill it too. I pulled the cotter pin out of the bolt, pulled the bolt free and the door came crashing down, mostly following the track. Thankfully, even if it had just dropped to the floor, I’m not a complete idiot – I wasn’t standing under the door at the time.
The door was now in a crumpled mess, blocking the doorway itself, still partially in the tracks on each side and preventing my departure on the previously mentioned motorcycle. Now, before someone cries out, “Ha! You should have moved the bike.” There wasn’t enough room in the driveway to move it and the door was already unstable. I didn’t want to risk it falling on me and the bike at the same time. That would have really pissed me off!
I attempted to remove the door completely from its tracks, but the far side was still connected to a now fully extended spring. Not wanting a repeat performance from a few minutes before, I stopped my attempts and started making some phone calls.
After the third or so 24-hour, same day service place told me that the soonest they could arrive was next Monday, I finally gave up in frustration and did what needed to be done: hand off the job to a calmer person. Karen took up the task and reached a place who could at least come out and take a look at the mess and give an estimate.
The guy was very friendly and obviously knew what he was talking about, explaining every detail. That was quite refreshing. (I’ll refrain from giving a recommendation by name until after I see the completed work this Saturday.) I asked if he had the tools needed to cut the cable on the other side, to release the intact spring and allow the door to be removed. He said that he did and would, but we’d better cut it from outside the doorway. He didn’t need to convince me of that one.
To give an idea of the kind of force involved here, to the left is an image of what the far side looked like, after we cut the second spring free and it hit the metal support for the door’s track. That piece of metal used to be intact and straight.
Another place finally did show up to give an estimate of replacing the door, at almost three hundred bucks less than the $1200 this place is charging, but they couldn’t color match to our trim, nor could they get to it on a timely basis. Worse yet, the man I spoke to was not a bright light of intellect and could barely answer the most basic questions with any clarity. That never goes over well with me.
I spent the rest of the afternoon removing anything of real value from our new carport and rehashed the event in my brain. I had come too close to buying the farm that morning.
I realize now that it will be something stupid like this which kills me. It won’t be a horrible motorcycle wreck, or some firearms accident – I’ll be crushed by a crashing airplane while walking to the corner drug store, or I’ll be hit by lightning while changing a flat tire on the truck. Maybe I’ll die from some kind of infection due to a paper cut.
I’ve survived all kinds of accidents in my life, without a scratch. I was even hit on my first motorcycle by a 50 MPH hit-and-run driver, and though I was not even wearing a helmet, I walked away without a bruise. I’ve fallen out of trees, had things explode in my face, literally. No injuries. I’ve never broken a bone. (I did manage a bone chip out of one heel, as I brushed it on the edge getting out of a swimming pool – but that’s just more proof that the minor things are out to get me.)
It’ll be a paper cut. Or a freak accident with a party balloon. Either something utterly mundane, or freakishly odd, is going to be my ticket to a dirt nap. At least, death’s attempts so far seem to point that way.
Tags: garage door, near death, spring
