Reading someone else's story about children falling down stairs
reminded me of the day after my wedding. Mrs. F's parents were visiting from Alaska, so we decided to take them to the Ponce Inlet lighthouse. When we got there, my boys (aged 3 and 5) and I were the only ones that wanted to go up. So we head up the 213 steps to the observation deck. The observation deck is a small room, just beneath the lens room, where you can walk outside and around the circumference of the lighthouse. It's another 10 steps up to the lens room, but there's a steel gate barring entry at the top of the stairs. As I had my camera with me, I decided to get a picture of the lens from down on the observation deck. So as I'm looking through the viewfinder, lining up a decent shot, I hear the sickening thud of flesh and bone hitting steel deck plate. I quickly look down to see my 3-year old on his head, on the deck, the rest of his body finally making contact with the steel. Apparently in the 3 seconds I wasn't paying attention, he'd climbed the 10 steps up to the lens room and fallen. However, it wasn't the fall that scared me. It was the aftermath. I dropped the camera and scooped up my little one. He was eerily silent, not crying, breathing short, shallow breaths, and not moving. I tried to stand him up and he collapsed like a limp noodle. "Oh *SHIT*" thinks I, he's paralyzed. So I scoop him up and grab his brother by the hand, and start SPRINTING down the 213 step spiral staircase, shoving people out of the way, eventually picked up big brother because his little legs couldn't go fast enough, and burst out into the parking lot carrying 80 lbs. worth of children. By the time we got to the car, the little one had fully recovered, no harm done whatsoever. Not even a bruise. It was definitely one scary moment I'll never, ever forget.
(WillF http://www.flickr.com/photos/silverfischdotnet/, Wed 28 Feb 2007, 4:18, Reply)