| One fall, my wife and I were
remodeling our kitchen. We were anxious to see how the kitchen would look
with all our new, black appliances in place. I didn't know it at the time,
but that rushed environment was about to get me in trouble.
It started with a trip to the local appliance store, where I bought a
combination microwave-range hood. I decided to kick-start our home
improvement by installing the hood without delay. The first step was to
remove the old range hood. "After all, how hard can that job
be?" I reasoned.
I removed all the screws so the hood would hang down and expose an
electrical outlet and plug--or, so I thought. Unfortunately, neither
existed. Instead, a supply wire ran through a hole in the wall and powered
the old range hood. I realized this job was going to be harder than I had
envisioned.
More anxious than ever to remove the old range hood and to install the
new one--and, more importantly, to impress my wife--I ran to the breaker
box in the garage. I scanned the rows of breakers for one marked
"range hood" but found none, which told me the hood shared a
circuit with something else. What, though? There were three possibilities:
kitchen lights, kitchen outlets, or kitchen range. I figured "kitchen
outlets" had to be the one, so I tripped the breaker, grabbed a
handful of tools, and ran back to the kitchen.
I decided the quickest way to remove the old appliance was to cut the
wire, instead of removing the cover and disconnecting the terminals one at
a time. Because I was in a hurry, I didn't test the circuit to ensure I
had tripped the right breaker. I took a pair of insulated wire cutters and
went to work. As I increased pressure on my grip, I felt the hair standing
up on the back of my neck. When the wire cutters went through the
insulation into the conductive wire, I heard a loud "bzzzzt,"
and a shower of sparks came from my hand.
I jumped from being startled, and my wife, who had been watching with
interest, ran for cover in an adjoining room. I wasn't injured, but my
heart was racing, and I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my body.
I stood there staring at the jaws of my wire cutters, which now were
melted into a strange configuration. My mind flooded with hundreds of
thoughts at the same time. The most relevant were, "Why hadn't I
checked the circuit to make sure I had tripped the right breaker?"
and "Why had I been in such a hurry?"
If it hadn't been for the insulated wire cutters, I probably wouldn't
be telling this story. Because of this incident, I no longer get in such a
hurry that I ignore precautions. I also don't take shortcuts, and I always
use the proper tools for a job.
The author was assigned to VAQ-139 when he wrote this article. |
