Grandpa Bill didn’t mean for it to happen. And I never saw it coming.
We were in his workshop, where he did minor horseshoe repair and other odds and ends. I was fascinated by the clanging of the hammer on the anvil and the heat and steam that poured off the furnace and water tank.
Grandpa Bill pointed out a rubber mallet that he said I could use to strike the anvil while he was heating a shoe in the fire. Happily, I picked it up and swung it as hard as I could.
The rubber hammer caught the edge of the anvil and rifled back at me. Like I said, I never saw it coming.