There was an old well on my grandfather’s farm. They would tell about when the whole community of women would gather there to wash their clothes. Over the years it showed signs of needing to be cleaned out. A man went down to clean it out and he came up dead. The well had filled with gas. I remember my grandfather constantly telling us kids to stay away from that well, which was by then surrounded by woods. I was fascinated by it and I’m sure I tried to get as close as I could without falling in.
> “A man went down to clean it out and he came up dead.”<
If I was dead, I wouldn’t even bother to come up.