. . between junior high (now called "middle school") and high school.

My experiment was to generate hydrogen, and light a little flame at the end of the delivery tube.

So, I set up to go with aluminum foil and and sodium hydroxide.

"NO! NO!" said the instructor - "That's too dangerous".

Well, that's the method I always used at home, Reynalds Wrap and Draino, to send up explosive balloon with slow fuses (thick string impregnated with Potassium Nitrate) when the wind was blowing to carry them over Lockheed airport (later Burbank Airport (BUR). Even later Bob Hope Airport (but they're going to change the name back - seems since almost nobody living today remembers who Bob Hope was, the lack of name recognition is hurting the airport's profitability)).

It turns out, the approved method was to use mossy zinc and sulphuric acid.

So, being a budding mad scientist, I went and requisitioned mossy zinc and concentrated sulphuric acid - I would not settle for anything less. I didn't find out until years later that this reaction doesn' really work except with dilute sulphuric acid - who coulda known?

Anyway, my previous artistic life had a strong influence on my new mad scientist life. I didn't care for the shape of gas generating bottles, so I selected to use a more aesthetically pleasing Erlenmeyer flask, and rejected a regular funnel in favor or a more styly thistle tube.

So, I stood with the flask on the lab bench right in front of me, while my assigned assistant, Alan Stock, had the matches to light the flame at the delivery tube. He was ready to go, but I said, "No! no! this is going way to slow, there's probably still oxygen in the flask".

Finally, I got impatient and said "OK it's just got to be ready now". Perfect timing.

He lit it off. I stared at a completely clean lab bench. Then a rubber stopper with a broken thistle tube bounced off the surface where the flask had been.

Broken glass was swept up from every corner of lab. Alan got a scratch on the arm that had held the match. I was totally untouched, either by glass or by any drop of acid.

I think this is when I slowly began to suspect that I was aligned with stronger forces than Jesus.

Postlog:

May years later, while I was still a good Christian boy. I was in my mother's garage, working on my car. I needed to take apart a transmission synchromesh ring. I got a cardboard box, put the ring and my hands in it and closed the flaps over. Then I pushed the ring apart. Two or three of the synchromesh retainer balls managed to find their way out of that box, never to be found.

Years later, having returned from the far world, and having rejected Jesus and adopted Esoteric Paganism, I sat in the same place in that garage, holding a synchromesh ring in my hands - but now the garage was filled with a Model A Ford chassis and piles and boxes of my brother's disassembled engines and other junk.

This time I had no intention of disassembling the synchro ring, but I accidentally pushed it too hard and it sprung apart. I heard the little retainer balls bouncing off all kinds of stuff in this junked up garage.

Every ball returned to me. I was able to gather them all without leaving my sitting position.

Now I knew for sure - I had set out on the right path.