I had to meet with a serial criminal in a tiny interview cell in a state prison. We were done after an hour, but when I rang the guard to get us, he decided to take a break, and forgot about us. My client was getting increasingly agitated, but I never felt that I was in danger.

In college I worked construction, and was present when our company owner was buried alivewhen a ditch, in which he was working caved in. It took us about 10 minutes to dig him out, and he just calmly dusted himself off and went back to work as if nothing had happened.

By the way, like just about everybody else from NE PA, I am a descendant of coal and anthracite miners, who probably had the most dangerous, non-combat jobs in the country's history. If they escaped the cave-ins, they had black lung to deal with. My grandfather would usually see the daylight in winter only on Sundays as he entered the mines six days a week before dawn, and left after dusk. On one occasion a rail cart of coal crushed his finger and he was sent to the company doctor, who amputated most of the finger swiftly and without telling him what he was doing. He had to report to work the next day.