Luke and the Branches

by Christopher Stagg from Rolling Hills, AB

It was an exiting time in Northern Ontario during 1976. Cable T.V. was coming to town. Mighty Mouse, The Pink Panther, and Mr. Magoo were all migrating north for the first time. It was going to be an awesome new world. 

At that time I was working for the cable company and was responsible for the installation of the various electronic equipment. As we were a new organization, we were still going through the process of recruiting new employees. 

One such individual was a young man named Luke who was hired on as a summer student and was assigned to the line crew. After a few days of orientation he was introduced to his workmates and on a sunny Thursday morning we embarked on our new adventure.

Luke was a personable guy and immediately felt like one of the boys. It didn’t take long for him to fit right into our group and to share in the lively banter that is so often prevalent among young men trying to leave their impression on the world. 
We were stringing line down an alley way one afternoon and came to a section that was over run by branches. 

“Hey Luke,” cried Mark, the line foreman. “I need you to climb up that tree and trim some of those branches - especially that one there,” he said pointing to the larger one.

“Right away Boss man,” Luke replied, ever so eager to please.

He quickly scurried up the tree and came to the branch that required his attention. He sat down positioning himself for the task at hand. Gripping his saw, Luke began to cut into the branch.

As we watched him, we realized that Luke was cutting on the wrong side of his body. He was cutting the branch right the trunk, and where he was sitting on the branch . I nudged my buddy John, but John had already noticed.

“It’s only a few feet off the ground,” he whispered. “He’ll be O.K.” 

After a few moments the inevitable happened. 

Like a Wile E Coyote / Road Runner cartoon, the bough snapped like a twig and plummeted to earth with Luke still attached. A look of shock and bewilderment enveloped his face. He hit the ground, rolled over, and leapt to his feet in one motion as if nothing had happened. We rushed over to make sure he was all right before we howled with laughter. The only injury was to his ego. The beer would be on us that night. Luke had made our summer.