When I was about 12, I was the recipient of what one might call a “good talking to” from my father, who was displeased over the brilliant idea I had conceived to find out what would happen if I shot a small portable propane canister with a .22 rifle. Fortunately, the Old Man noticed what I was up to before I could fire the shot in question, but I was denied the use of my favorite .22 caliber, summertime companion for one month.
Propane tanks, in case you didn’t know, can explode, and while we were unsure if a .22 caliber bullet would have that effect, the Old Man wisely didn’t want me finding out the hard way. (I still don’t know what would have happened had I shot that propane canister, and you can write that lack of knowledge off to a sudden rush of brains to the head.)
Knowing this, you can imagine the concern of some Seattle volunteers, when they found a bunch of propane tanks…
