I was eight or nine and we lived in a nice house in Lake Park in Palm Beach County, Florida. The floors were terrazzo which are little chips of tile in a hard, white grout smoothed to a mirror-like surface.
My father, who was out of the house, had been doing some work in his bedroom at the time and it was empty of furniture. I remember walking into the room and seeing a metal power drill laying on the floor. It was plugged in.
It was summer and quite warm in South Florida. As usual I was simply dressed in short pants and no shoes or shirt.
As I stood there I was filled an interest in this drill. I wanted to know what it felt like to hold this device in my hand. It reminded me of toy gun. I imagined aiming it at something and with a whirring sound sending out a blast.
I picked it up. It was heavy in my hand. I could feel the cold pot metal. I aimed it at the floor. I knew it would not actually fire a projectile or beam of light. I still braced myself as if it would. I pulled the trigger.
Instantly my body was rattling. I felt the grip of the electricity pouring through the drill into me. In a flash my arm straightened out, my body spun around and the drill flew out of my hand and across the room smashing into the wall with a thud.
I was stunned for a long moment. Then I couldn't believe I had made such a stupid mistake. I don’t know how I knew without being told but I realized I had grounded the drill in the terrazzo floor through my bare feet.
That wasn’t the last time I was shocked by electricity, but it was the last time it was an unexpected surprise.
DON'T GET CARRIED AWAY
All photos copyright Michael B Stone
