"When it hits the cross, several feet up in the air, it's just bone-chilling. Crazy. The cross starts to sway and you think, it's going to break. All you do is shake -- and pray -- all day."In my freshman year at college, I landed the part of Jesus in a midieval miracle play. The director had a 50-lb, 10-foot wooden cross built for me that fit into a base and was bolted into position. It was equipped with a footrest and a particularly uncomfortable "seat," and I was lashed to the cross at my shoulders.
On opening night, the executioners got carried away while raising the cross with me on it. I usually had my eyes closed, but I felt something wrong. I opened my eyes to find that the executioners had failed to stop the cross upright, and found myself rushing face first toward the stage, lashed to the cross. Fortunately, the base into which the cross fit kept the foot of the cross raised, so I escaped what would have been a massive injury because my body was suspended between the head of the cross -- which hit the stage -- and the raised foot of the cross.
When the cross hit the stage, there was dead silence in the audience and the actors on stage were frozen in place. Finally, one of the executioners came over to me, saw that I was dazed but otherwise okay, then brought down the house by shouting, "Quick! We have to get him up before the Sabbath!"
I feel this guy's pain.
Thanks for the good laugh.