While those local young men were working on our add-on they had a
friend come and help them on occasion. I didn't really know him very
well but he had been around town and at our house working a couple of
times. One Saturday before they were going to come to our house to
work they went hunting for rabbits. While they were hunting that boy
say what he thought was a rabbit in the early morning light and shot
at it. It turned out to be a white rock and his bullet ricocheted
right back at him. It hit his clavicle and spun right strait down
through his heart and he was dead in a matter of seconds. It was so
fast and such an unlikely shot that the friends that were with him
were confused about what happened and thought he may be joking
around. The shot was so unlikely that when the ambulance came they
called the police because they thought one of his friends must have
shot him. They found out the truth in the autopsy. The guys didn't
come back to work for a couple of days and when they did they were
understandably a lot less goofy. I wanted to ask them about their
friend dying but I, with my social tone deafness, knew that this was
the kind of story you were told if they wanted to but you never
asked. The boy who died from the ricochet was the first person that I
had actually known that had died and it was a weird feeling to know
he would never come back and it made me really sad.
