We hired a steeple-jack company to repair the hurricane damage to our radio towers. The AM station, between Sinton and Taft only had a couple of guy wires that needed replacing, but the FM tower atop the Driscoll Hotel had lost its top third and needed extensive repair.
I brought a couple of cokes up to roof, and was watching the guy working on our tower. He had just cut the mast off right below where it had broken. They had fabricated a new top with a sleeve that would fit down over what had been left standing, and he would later rig a sky hook to lift the new piece and lower it into position.
When he came down off the tower, I handed him a coke, and he sat down beside me to take a break.
Remember, he had just been 30 feet or so above the sloping roof of a 20 plus story building, often working with his safety belt unattached.
As he sat there enjoying his coke, he looked across the street where two men were on a scaffold suspended from the roof the building.
They were breaking out the remaining shattered glass and installing plywood as a temporary fix.
He watched them for a while, then looked at me and said, "Those F**king people are crazy. I wouldn't get out on that G## damn scaffold for all the f**king money in the world!"