Accidents with dads Shop?

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rodbuilder

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After Wagon173 posted on my FS sherline I thought of what I have done in my dads shop. Now that was scary thinking :eek: My dad has always had a real nice wood shop my entire life so you can think of my accidents of 30+ years in it.

My two worst:
1. I was drilling out piece of wood on his drill press, and I was not paying any attention. I drilled right through the 1/2" wood and right into his cordless drill. I still claim it was my sister that only came into his shop just to ask for money. I mean she did it, and would you guess he still doesn't believe me.;D

2. My dads brand new Portable Hand Planer got used to thin a square stock of aluminum, then when he turned it on it slung a blade. Dad I don't know what happened to it, uh I haven't been in your shop for at least a week.:hDe:

Now:
My son has just destroyed a block plane trying to thin a brick. Guess what, my dad was in tears laughing.:mad:

So what have destroyed?
 
I put when I was very young a soldering iron on my dad his new Dremel. He was not happy!!!
From then , I buy al my tools & machines.......
 
I remember in my grandpas shop I put a rather large rock in the vice and struck it with a mini sledge trying to find diamonds for mothers day. The rock actually buzzed across the garage and broke a pane of glass on the door. My grandpa came home to a neat pile of swept glass and a cardboard window which I had wrote "(window)" on incase he didn't recognize it. He almost fell out of his truck laughing when he read the sign. Made me wash all three vehicles for the window and we made a wood and glass flower for my grandma. Last time I was home he had the sign hanging above the work bench with a picture off me in afghanistan changing an engine. It almost made me cry...then we both started laughing about how many times I've humored my way out off a beating.
 
There was another time that my brother and I were fighting in the shop. My grandpa had watched the whole thing through the window and saw me being patient with him for over an hour. Finally I'd had it and thumped him. All my dad saw was me punching my little brother as he walked in so he came after me. I ran to grandpas house. As my dad was walking toward my grandpas house, by grandpa was so pissed at him that he actually spit his teeth out in the middle of calling him an A$$ hole. Never breaking stride, he caught them, put them back in and finished what he had to say! To this day neither of us can keep a strait face when it comes up. Ahh good times!
 
I drilled holes in the backyard with my dad's antique brace and bit-and left it out in the rain! Back then dad's used belts!:eek:
cheepo45
 
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cant really remember doing anything really bad to my dads tools.
Probably left a few tools outside.
but also had two brothers and we were always fixing our bikes.

when I was older like 27 or something wrapped the cord around my friends craftsman drill and pulled the cord out of it. IIRC we both laughed at the stupidity.
M y son tested the brace and bit on the workbench legs and the stair face going from the living room to the second floor we still joke about the damage from "Large wood boring Insects"
my son being the only child could never get away with the blaming it on siblings.

NAd i have ugly rust stains and grooves on my white Norton wheel where he ground something off his truck aaarrgg.That wa recent.

Tin
 
Well my memory is a little thin due to these things happening a long time ago.


This wasn't dads shop but I can remember tearing apart slot cars to get to the motors and experimenting with them as a youngster. I forgot how old I was at the time. In any event a few wires and a few batteries had that little motor running faster than it ever had in its life, cool. So there I was on a quest for more power when I spotted an AC outlet in the wall of my bedroom. Holding nothing but the two leads off that poor little slot car motor I just had to see how fast it would go. Poof! The little motor had given up its life in my quest for speed. Surprisingly I got away with this without a scratch. However there was a big Bloch of smoke on the wall and the outlet was dead. I can remember taking a hike down into the cellar to reset the breaker and having to get a bucket to stand on to do that. Then came clean up of the wall, I got most of that offed crept for a serious bit right on the cover plate. In any event I was shocked to realize that nobody noticed. It was maybe ten years later when I was around 15 that my father asked what happened to the outlet in my bedroom!

Another instance I put my hand through the window in the entrance door to the shop. Somehow I cut my finger but managed to stop the bleeding. While bandaged up I managed to replace the window with spare glass that was stored in the shop. All of this happened well before dad got home from work, the finder seemed fine and again nobody said anything though I could swear that he noticed the new piece of glass in the window ( probably should have washed the others). The interesting thing here is some 35 years later I had to go to the doctors due to a blister and pain if I put any pressure on it. I actually had to convince the doctor to cutting open to remove what was in there. Sure enough a piece of glass from that old window had apparent broken loose From the bone and started working its way to the surface. I'm not sure the doctor believed me when I tried to tell him where it came from.

There are probably other things that will come to mind but I got bitten by the tool bug real early in life. It tended to avoid abusing most of them and in fact started collecting my own tools fairly early in life. Even so there where likely instance of things broken or damaged. Sometime I wonder how I made it through childhood alive.
 
Well this didn't really destroy a tool but it was a dumb thing for me to do.

I stuck a 2x2x12 inch aluminum block through a table saw trying to rip it in half. As I pushed it through, the aluminum just vanished into thin air. Or so it seemed , what really happened is that it slung it like about 500 feet down an industrial complex aisle where my shop was, ripped a hole in the chain link fence and deposited it in an off limits airfield.

I was so luck the mechanic or his customers next store weren't out in the aisle like they usually are.

Very humbling experience.
 
Having very poor childhood days was a mixed blessing. My mates would show off their expensive toys which Gus can never buy. So make my own and if it did not work out,I imagine it worked.
To make toys you need tools. So when my dad's hand tools went missing-------its me.
When house hold items went to pieces,it is Gus again dismantling them and could not out it back.
Clocks,toys etc. Five years down the line Gus went about repairing items for neighbours for pocket money to buy hand tools. Was replacing lamps sockets and survived because I was smart enough to isolate. Test Pens did not exist in 1955.
First attempt to repair a AC/DC Radis nearly killed me.
Trying to rewind a radio power transformer was a disaster. Lost count of no of turns. Too many layers.Gave up. :wall:
Tried making my own electric soldering iron was another disaster. Blew up the street main fuses.Gus went hiding.:eek::confused::rolleyes:

Saw car batteries being charged. Classmate made a calculation,we could safely and quickly charge a pile of 1.5v Everyready batteries,if we put them into a long cardboard tube and use 230v mains.We blew up fuses again. Gus & rest got shot. The brains behind the mess was sitting in the back row supervising,so he was not caught red handed.
He was spare the rod. We each got 5 of the best from discipline master. 20 years down the line,the brains became Senior High Tension
Power Supply Consultant Engineer.

At family gathering,the subject of Gus demolishing house items is favourite subject. No one recalled how many items I did repaired and even till today.:)
 
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What a great thread, I love it.

As a young boy like most of us i used to get into all sorts of trouble in my dads shed. I have dozens of stories of myself getting into mischief but there is one occasion that stands out.

When I was about 6 my dad taught me how to repair the carburettor on his old Ford F100 work truck. Dad is a builder/concrete layer, The "EFFY" was his pride and joy and an absolute necessity in order to get the job done.

A few days after learning about the inner workings of a carby I decided that the old man had forgotten a few parts during the reassembly and decided to take it upon myself to remove the air cleaner and deposit several small washers straight down the intake, I then positioned the air cleaner exatly as it came off. ;D

The next morning bright and early dad went off to work and all was good. The crew of workers poured a large concrete slab that day. ran the screed and bull float over it then went to the lunch bar to get some breakfast. During the trip back to the job there was a funny rattle sound from the engine then "BANG" the engine dropped a valve. The 3 guys were stuck on the side of the road with the concrete rapidly setting.

To cut a long story short, The concrete went off and had to be pulled up and re laid, I had copped a flogging and could not walk straight for about week. :hDe:

We laugh about it now, and later on in life Dad changed the name of his buisness to Re-lay Concrete.

I never learnt my lesson though, there are about another dozen floggings to come before I did.

Cheers,
Baz.
 
Gus, it never works that way man! No matter how many car problems I fix for my brother, I'm still the one that convinced him to grab the coil on that old silverado while I was changing his oil :p To this day we still call the dent in the shop wall, "Warren" (bro's name), from him jolting back.
 
At the tender age of 11 my father opened a service station. I was pumping gas and learning to work on cars. We had a service book that listed every make and model of car and I soon learned how to find and grease all the fittings under a car. How to grease the ball joints and tie rod ends.

Later I learned to fix tires and saw the many interesting things people ran over. I fixed truck tires and tires from sugar cane wagons that were as tall as me. I have numerous scars from those years.

While I made many screw ups my father always used it as a learning experience and I didn't get punished much. His favorite trick was to shock people while checking the timing on a car. He would also charge up condensors and put them back in the box, then he would send his victum to go retrieve the charged up condensor from the parts cabinet. Naturally the victum would open the box and take out the condensor and it would discharge in your hand.

My worst mistake was jumping off my 6 volt VW with a 12 volt truck battery. One day the little 6 volt had enough and exploded. No one was injured but it scared us all very badly. I used our home made wrecker to pick up a log at this ladies house only to have the truck fall through the top of her septic tank. (luckily it was no longer in use)

We did other stupid things but the law of averages was with us. We kept an open 5 gallon bucket of gasoline in the shop. Usually with 3 or 4 inches of gasoline. It was for washing parts and our hands. When fixing tires we would wipe the area down with gas then apply the glue and a patch. Afterwards we would light the glue to melt in the patch. We also welded using the oxy-acetelene torch and coat hanger wire right in the service bay.

I am lucky I surived my childhood, and I shake my head at how over-protective we have become in today's world. Today people aren't allowed to have common sense they have a lawyer instead.

IMHO
"G"
 
Me and my older brother Tore up more stuff than a little bit when we were young..One I will never forget was painting our bicycles with dads new fangled paint gun.. We cleaned out the paint gun as we had seen dad do with a full cup (almost a quart) of paint thinner.. Dumped that down the drain in the floor of the shop.. Proceeded to paint the bikes then cleaned out the paint gun again same way and dumped down same floor drain.. Paint dries to slow for us so we fired up the torch with the rosebud tip which dad had said "this tip would heat an Army tank to cherry red" .. Perfect for us to help dry the paint faster.. Well somehow the flame got to close to the floor drain and my mom came running into the garage yelling FIRE FIRE...We went outside to see the Leaves burning in a perfect line down the hill behind the garage.. We got it put out and raked leaves over the burnt ones and begged mom to not tell dad...I don't guess she did because we didn't get a whipping for it.. Memories !! Bill
 
Has anybody tried the trick of screwing two bolts into one nut, with the space inbetween the bolt tips full of crumbled matchstick heads? I vividly remember a few half nuts come flying past my ears after I misjudged a throw :D
 
Well, there was the time when my brother and I, at age 3, had a squirt gun fight all through the house with a couple of hand pump oil cans from dad's shop. Not sure what kind of oil was in them, but the yellow stains were indelible.

The next year I had to try out dad's hand saw, so I sawed through one of the open risers on the stairs leading down to Dad's basement shop.

Several years later I discovered one of his Starrett micrometers, and decided it made a pretty good clamp while gluing up parts on my slot car.

Oh, and the time dad caught me opening a paint can with one of his woodworking chisels.

Man, that guy knew how to swing a belt.
 
Flipping a plastic bag 1/2 full of petrol in coal furnace to get fire going. It did, also used some eyebrows as fuel. Sticking a piece of copper wire in electrical outlet to"see what happens." Shooting an arrow straight up in the air, when it came down it missed a friend by about 6". Stories go on for a while. did not realize how much fun I had as a "quiet" child who never did anything.
 

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