The Plummeting Painter April Wine - Harder Faster In my early teens I used to make a little cash here and there doing odd jobs at my sisters' houses. Both my brother-in-laws were very good about finding work for me and I was quite willing to do most jobs. On this particular occasion, I had accepted the job of painting the outside of my sister and brother-in-law's Tudor house. It was early in the morning when I hopped on my bike to ride over and complete the last day of painting on this rather large job. It was about a 7-mile ride over so I had a little time to think about what I had to do. I had only the backside of the house left to do. This included what I felt was the highest peak just above the kitchen extension. I was not really frightened of heights, as I was always on ladders painting houses here and there. I did however always manage these highflying jobs with great caution. I arrived at the house, had a cup of coffee with my sister and went to work. As I was setting things up, my sister was loading the kids in the car to go shopping or something. I waved good-bye as I pulled the extension ladder onto the roof of the kitchen. Now if you stood in the back yard looking at the house, you would see the kitchen extension coming toward you on the left. On the right you would see the rest of the house. The right side was mostly brick with the dark brown Tudor wood. The left side above the kitchen extension went to the second floor and then up to a peak. This was all stucco with the dark brown Tudor wood. I was only painting the dark brown wood. Thank God for that, because painting stucco sucks. As I was pulling the ladder up, I was thinking about how I would place it on the roof that sloped away from the house. This was bothering me the whole time as I arranged the paint, the rags and the brushes. I decided to go to the garage and build myself a little support that would rest under the ladder to stop it from sliding down the roof away from the wall while I worked. As I said, I always work with safety in mind. With a few scraps of wood I fashioned the ultimate support. I made a wedge shaped block on exactly the right angle to compensate for the pitch of the roof and leave the ladder resting on a level surface. I confidently placed this under the ladder and extended the ladder to the peak where I intended to start. Before gathering my tools and the paint I went a few feet up the ladder and bounced around. It was as safe as it could get. I then confidently hopped off the ladder and arranged my things. With my shirt off, rag in my left back pocket, brush in my right back pocket, the can of dark brown paint in my left hand and my right hand free to manage the climb, off I went to the top. When I arrived at the top, I hung the can of paint from the top rung of the ladder and got started. I would guess I was about 30, maybe 35 feet from the yard below and 20 plus feet from the roof over the kitchen extension. Suddenly, the ladder began to shimmer and a single jolt launched the block out from below the ladder. As I started to shit my pants, I heard my incredible wedge block slide off the roof and hit the patio below. My heart rate elevated considerably as I could feel the base of the ladder begin to shimmy down the roof and away from the wall. It had only been seconds and I had not uttered a single word from my lips. I had however, launched the brush onto the lawn so I could dig my fingernails into the stucco siding in order to stabilize the ride down. It's funny how handy fingernails can be in times of complete terror. You can chew them or dig them into things or people. Now I had two main concerns. The first being to maintain my current state of health and the second was to avoid dumping the paint everywhere. I had descended about a yard when it occurred to me that in a second, the end of the ladder would slip off the edge of the roof and I would advance to free falling. I also though that if I was to continue with this fingernail guidance control system I would definitely need medical attention shortly after my fall. As I plummeted, I removed the paint from the hook on the top rung of the ladder and held it out to my left side. I used my right hand as a rapid waving device in order to maintain my balance. Remarkably, the last few feet were not as I had expected, which was to have a violent slam into the roof leaving me covered in paint with two broken legs and a severe back injury of sorts. To my surprise the ladder continued to slide down the wall at a consistent, controlled pace. If I knew it was going to be like this, I would have kept the brush and painted the beam in front of me on the way down! Anyway, I hit the roof quite gently- without spilling a drop of paint. The instant my feet hit the ground I began what I like to refer to as "clean up time". Was the job done? No, but I felt exhausted and I needed a shower right away. The bicycle ride home was most uncomfortable, but very safe. Did I complete the job? Yes. Have you ever taped a paintbrush to a long stick? It works and again, keeping safety in the foreground, this can be done from the comforts of terra firma. I cut a lot of grass after this job.