For me, the scariest incident was when I was carving with Junichi Nakamura, Shinichi Sawamura, and Greg Butauski at the 2004 World IceArt Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

    The blocks that are used for the competition are very large and the only way they can be moved is with heavy machinery. So, because of the amount of weight and the sheer size involved, you have to be very careful and pay attention to what’s going on around you.

    Junichi and Shinichi were cutting a slab from a block while I was working on another block nearby. I was cutting into the top of a large block, so I was standing on an upsidedown bucket and a sawhorse (one foot on each) so that I could get a better vantage point. As I write this now, that sounds pretty stupid, doesn’t it? Does it make sense to use a large power tool while standing on some pretty flimsy supports? I’ll have to rethink my approach next time... Anyway, Junichi and Shinichi had released the large slab of ice from the larger block (imagine cutting a giant, thousand pound slice of bread) and, somewhat unexpectedly, the slab began to fall over. Well, about where the top edge of the slab was about to land was where I had my right foot on the bucket.

    I can’t remember if anyone yelled; I’m sure they did. But I do know that I was fortunate in that I caught sight of the falling slab in my peripheral vision. Somehow, I jumped up and to the side, scooting my feet out of the way and falling on top of the slab as it landed on my bucket. I was unhurt, but a little stunned at how fast it had happened and how lucky I’d been.

    When we got the ice off the bucket, it wasn’t much of a bucket anymore. It looked a bit like an accordion. I figured that had I not moved, the solid edge of the large slab would have hit somewhere between my knee and my ankle and I imagine that it would have resulted in an extraordinary amount of pain, some surgery, and perhaps a lot of physical therapy.

    I hope my luck continues to hold like that in the future. I’ve learned to take better stock of my surroundings and to try to anticipate what others might not expect. I don’t think my life was ever in danger, but certainly my leg and my career were.