Finger Tip was cut off (short story)
I remember being home alone with my father. I do not remember the year but I was probably between 12-14 years old.
I was upstairs and my dad was down in the basement using his table saw. He called me to come downstairs. His hand was bleeding. He said, “Look in the saw dust for the tip of my finger”. I froze for a second but quickly went to work to find it and it did not take long to find the red sawdust and fingertip. I remember wrapping it up into something as my dad and I went upstairs, got into the car and he drove himself to the hospital while I was along to carry the finger.
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The fingertip was sewed back on at the hospital and we went home. My dad recovered fine but he never got the feeling back into that fingertip. In those days the table saws had no safety covering the blade. A few years later all saws had that.
When my father died, one of the things I took was his table saw, since I had been doing some wood working. It sat in garage for a year. I never could use it with that memory still in my head. I sold it.
I often think of what I would have done had my finger had been cut off. My father was a very quiet person but quietly tough. Never a complaint in any situation. Even during his pretty bad cancer treatments he had no complaints. I always looked at my dad as a much tougher person than myself. Just a different generation of toughness.
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Person(s) :
Approx. Date :
Location :
Colorgero Alex Crapisi
about 1958 – 1962
Rockford, Illinois
Event/Site :
Source :
Archive :
Sunset Ave. Home
Thomas Crapisi
Short Story