Warning - Ed Story Time:
I'm no electrician - hell, I barely understand the basics - but I come by my redneck knowledge of it honestly.
My dad was the ultimate do-it-yourself-er, simply because he came from nothing and just had the ability to
figure out how to build, wire, plumb anything himself.
Dude would work "live" when working on house wiring all the time, which is sorta nuts of course - never saw
him get bit, though. It's from watching him that my own healthy respect for the juice eminates...
I also have the benefit of knowing guys who actually are professionals to lean on.
Well...came time years ago for me to energize my garage....
The electric co-op insists on having your outside stuff looked at by an inspector, but once the juice hits the
breaker box, they don't care one whit...
They also insist on you making the connection to the main from the pole with the meter pulled, which is where
I sort of jumped the gun one Sunday.
You can almost see this story coming, can't you?
Impatient to wait on them to come out Monday to pull the meter, I had the whole garage wired, new 100 amp
(220VAC) breaker/box all set to go, to be fed by a 100amp breaker in the main disconnect on the side of the
house nearby.
All that was left was to install that big breaker in the box and feed the garage.
Well, I decided at that time that I didn't have to wait on them to come out Monday....
My dad, still alive then, insisted on coming up to "supervise" this stupid move of mine and brought with him
a wood 2x4, which he held as he sat down in a lawn chair to observe the show.
When I said to him "hey Pop, I've seen you work "live" all my life, what's the difference?"
He gave me one of those wise old smirks and said "that was 110, son. You're about to find out all about 220
at 200 amps".
How right he was, turns out...
The master disconnect box on the side of the house was/is a Seimens type that you sort of have to reach around
behind the breakers to tie in the wiring. Not above them or even beside them, mind you....
behind them.
So, live from the pole to that box - here I went, new breaker and a screwdriver in hand....
The first bite was one leg, which made my elbow wiggle and I dropped everything and jumped back a little.
Wife yells at me to stop; Pop says to her "that was just 110. He got lucky."
A smart fella would have come to his senses at this warning delivered...
Me? Y'all know me....I get a little ticked off instead and head right back in there again.
And again....aaaand again....getting more pissed off every time, if not a little toasty from the fryin'.
Then it happened: I get the full boat of juice and it felt like someone had hit me square in the chest with a
sledgehammer. Knocked me back about ten feet and on my ***.
Wife hollered LOUD and Pop actually got up out of the chair, 2x4 at the ready...tells her "now THAT was 220".
Me? I get up slow and growling like some sort of wounded animal, pick everything back up...
and head back in, as mad as I've ever been in my life and despite all the protests from them both to
"just wait until tomorrow and they come pull the meter!"
Nope. This **** was gonna happen NOW or I was going to die trying...
Y'all know how this story ends. God's got a sense of humor and I must amuse hell out of Him or something...
The next attempt was successful, me finally learning how to get it done without frying!
I cursed that damn box for the next couple minutes, slammed the lid down on it and hurled the screwdriver
at it for good measure. Bastard!
The aftermath was sort of me sitting down, all jittery and sore, covered in gravel dust - but triumphant, too.
Pop, now genuinely equal parts proud and concerned for me, tells me I was lucky the juice didn't just grab
ahold of me and commence frying - which is why he had that 2x4 at the ready, to be used to knock me off
the thing had that happened.
Wife is still hopping mad, wanting to know why I kept on after getting bit so many times.
Pop tells her "well....he comes by that honest" and smiles that knowing grin he had.
I still miss hell out of my dad all these years later - and the garage wiring is actually better quality than the
house wiring (by others) according to my licensed electrician friend.
I tend to overbuild when I construct stuff.
Ok, there's your "crazy things I've seen" story - about yours truly.