It was in the days before auto-darkening helmets. And before hand held TIG remote controls….
My dad and I would be working on our race car: me welding in the chassis and my dad on amperage control duty.
But like many fathers and sons, we had a communication problem, or maybe an outright failure to communicate. He’d crank up the amps and I wouldn’t be ready.
I’d get flashed. Every. Single. Time. (It’s a wonder I didn’t do permanent damage!)
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