When we lived in Oak Ridge many years ago, a tree in our yard fell down but not all the way. It wedged into another tree and needed coaxing to the ground. My husband sought some assistance in making that happen, so he called my brother to come to the rescue. After all, who else would you call on to orchestrate a delicate procedure other than levelheaded never-take-chances C. Long?
He arrived on the scene in ghostbuster eagerness to tackle whatever tree, or monster, needed tackling. And so they began. Initially he and Barry did what great minds always do when strategizing the fate of a tree -- they huddled in the yard, looked up, down, and around, studied the slope of the land, made predictions and then came up with a Houdini-style plan that involved a rope.
The sizeable partially-fallen tree lay at an angle and C. Long ascended upon it. At the point where the two trees were meshed together, he tied himself with the rope to the stabilized tree. After hoisting up the chain saw with a different rope, he started ripping into bark, the chain saw buzzing at high decibels, sawdust spewing and swirling like sparklers on the Fourth of July.
A few minutes later, in a heart-stopping flash, C. Long sliced through the last few centimeters and the wood cracked away. The rope tightened around his torso as the tree dropped out from under him. Dangling, he watched the poplar falling and the chain saw slipping out of his hand then plunging blade first into the ground below, the motor still running.
Nothing comes between a man and his power tool, and Barry's had just suffered a potentially fatal blow. Naturally, his first inclination was to check the vitals of his Stihl. He sprinted toward it, never minding that his brother-in-law, suspended from a rope was helicoptering above.
C. Long, somewhat perturbed at playing second fiddle to a chain saw, called out to Barry below, "Are you gonna help me get down from here?" Barry gently wiggled the blade from the earth, quickly assessed the damage to his saw, then helped C. Long descend from mid-air.
In the end, the tree had been downed and though a risky operation, no injuries were sustained which, all things considered, is remarkable. Even the equipment survived with no more than a scratch.
Today, decades later, my husband still uses the same saw to sever tree trunks and big branches. Sometimes when he picks it up and heads to the woods, or sits in a chair pondering the past, he remembers the time when his trusty saw crashed to the ground while C. Long hovered above. Then he smiles.
Author's note: While no humans or chain saws were harmed during this tree-cutting episode, neither of the parties involved recommend trying this at home.