It was a spring day back in 1992. My buddy Tim had clambered to the top of an under-construction townhouse - sent by his boss to start sheeting the roof trusses on the four-story structure.
Tim (a pseudonym, since this is a true story) - a fellow muscle-car nut and a guy my best friend, Harry, and I had known since high school - was working as a carpenter. Indeed, he was one of the best you'd find.
Tim's life was about to change - forever.
Before Tim climbed up into the rafters, his boss - the site foreman - had said that all the trusses had been nailed down a day or two before. Once up on top, trying to reposition himself, my buddy temporarily straddled two of the squat lumber triangles.
Those trusses suddenly started to spread.
They weren't nailed down.
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