I’m not convinced… the mind can conjure up all kinds of magic under the right circumstances
One morning in February 1953, a young trainee plumber called Harry Martindale was sent down alone into the cellar of the Treasurer’s House in York. He had been given the grim and lonely task of making a hole in the ceiling for a central heating pipe to come through. Harry had brought a set of ladders with him, and he made use of a conveniently-located excavation trench to safely foot them. He then placed the footed ladders against the wall where the hole was to be made and began to chisel.
Not realising just how thick the ceiling was, he had to return a second day, bringing extensions to the chisels from the company workshop. He then started the work again. A few hours later, he heard a sound which he thought was one of his colleagues playing a radio higher up in the house. He…
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