Once when I was standing at the base, they started rotating the set and a big, heavy wrench fell down from the 12 o'clock position of the set, and got buried in the ground a few feet from me. I could have been killed!
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
They put chains on me; they chained my waist, my legs. Put me in the back of a squad car, and I literally blacked out. I didn't even - there's whole pieces missing.
When I was grounded, I wouldn't be allowed to go on set. That's how much I loved it.
The gunner's mate came up and started breaking the locks on the ammunition. Everything was locked up for fear that someone might go in there with a cigarette or something.
One of the first things I did on arriving at school was to break my left arm falling into a bomb crater.
And we turned off and 30 miles south they're standing in the middle of our road blocking our way, stopped the car, got out, took us through the path in the woods, where the craft was on the ground.
I was hit by a car. I almost died. My show was taken away from me. I was frightened.
People say I stole a lot of bases. I stole the bases for a reason. I crossed the plate.
It was a kind of paralysis you would get from tendonitis and I would last about five to ten minutes into the set and it would set in and I really couldn't play.
Our house was bombed, and the roof fell in. We were sitting under the stairs of the basement, and we were quite safe, but it brought home the realization. In two nights 400 people were killed in small town.
I'd managed to bite a very large hole in the side of my tongue before they could pry my teeth apart. By all evidence, and there's no denying it, that thing I had on the set was a fit.