By Matt Lasley email@example.com
April 22, 2014
Earlier this week, I lost my cell phone in, arguably, the most absurd and seemingly impossible to remedy manner in the history of cell phones’ being lost.
The News-Gazette office is located in one of Leitchfield’s most historic buildings on Public Square. I can count at least a dozen times when folks have visited and told us about how they used to come in for sodas and ice cream.
With that being said, you can imagine how distressed I was by the prospect of pulling up the (original!) floorboards to rescue my lost phone from the pitch black abyss below.
Our office is located on the middle of three floors. Between the floor and the wall of the middle floor is a gap no more than an inch in width. Through what I can only describe as an act of fate, my phone fell through this gap and, subsequently, inside the basement wall.
Initially, I thought, Well, that’s not so bad. It’s probably only an inch or two down.
Worry started to set in after I ventured down into the basement and, through a hole in the wall, (like I said, the building is quite old) saw that there would be no simple way to reach in and retrieve my phone.
The thought of tearing up the floor boards and going at the problem from above seemed irrational, but as I investigated further, it soon became the only option.
After about thirty minutes of progressively more frantic phone calls, my parents and a handful of other family members arrived at my office (thankfully, after hours) to help me out of this Goonies-esque debacle.
After taking up the floor, we were able to see my phone - still in tact - about five feet down and cradled by dust, dirt, and debris.
My dad initially tried to grab it by hand only to discover it was about two feet beyond his reach. Around this time, I had a meeting to cover for work, so we agreed to disband and meet up again after my meeting was over.
When we returned about an hour and a half later, my dad, one of the craftiest individuals I’ve ever known, had fashioned a device that would reach into the wall and scoop up the phone.
As I rejoiced at the miraculous recovery of something I had previously considered long lost, we restored the floor boards to their original place without difficulty.
I can’t help but feel somewhat embarrassed about going through such an odyssey to retrieve a material object, and, were it something other than a cell phone - which would cost an exorbitant sum of money to replace because, shockingly, insurance doesn’t cover losing one’s phone inside a wall - I likely would have left it to become an artifact of the ages.
As it stands, my phone is back in my possession, in working order, and likely not to leave my sight again any time soon - and I have another goofy story to add to my list. In my line of work, stories are everything.