Every scar has a story to tell. I have many scars, but I can remember only some of the stories that go with them. As I look at my hands, I see a scar on my left ring finger. Now there is a story. It was about seven or eight years ago, when I received a call informing me of a cleaning van broken, 75 miles out of town. I gathered a few tools, hitched the trailer and headed to Indianapolis in the pouring rain. I arrived at the scene, the rain still coming with no end in sight. We were on the north side of West 86th Street just west of I465. Yes, the rush hour traffic was thick, and although the van was off the road, this traffic made it difficult to concentrate. The van had thrown the belt, and in the process of the belt coming off, one of the transmission lines and the small starter wire were pulled loose. The transmission line was manageable, but because of the water dripping on me and the uncomfortable gravel under me; I could not discern where the wire had been severed. Even the ability to salvage the wire was in question as much of it was stripped bare. I made the decision to start the van by jumping across the starter solenoid manually. I would need to choose a tool that would conduct the electric current and also be small enough to fit in a tight space. I also needed to get a good sense of the location of the terminals. It was dark under the van, so I reach my hand above the starter and began feeling around. I remember very clearly the sound of the starter engaging. It only engaged for less than half a second before I jerked my hand out of there. My wedding ring had jumped the terminals, and not the solenoid terminals. No, my ring had completed the full battery circuit to the starter. I do not know just how many amps a 7.3 diesel engine starter pulls, but I am guessing it is a lot.. Those amps heated the ring in a hurry. I ripped that ring off my finger in a reflex motion, but the damage to my finger had already been set. I do not remember the details concerning how I got that van back to the shop, but I do remember there were multiple issues that had to be tackled before that service call was completed. I do remember a feeling of gratefulness as we headed home. Thank you for taking the journey with me. Writing my stories is my therapy. One love, ~mark
Posted on: Mon, 17 Jun 2013 06:06:52 +0000
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