My brother is an idiot.
It happened on Saturday. He and his oldest son were in the garage ripping thin strips of wood as spacers for the log they just milled (blog post forthcoming). The wood he was ripping was a bit damp, after being left in the rain a few days before. It was scrap wood, after all. No need to cut the finest.
Dan (my brother) was in Dad’s shop, using Dad’s tablesaw–a Sawstop. The only tablesaw on the market that has the capacity to detect flesh. Within milliseconds of an electrical interruption, a brake cartridge is launched at rocket speeds into the blade–immediately retracting the blade beneath the tablesaw. Countless people have told stories about how the sawstop saved a hand, or a thumb, or a finger. Continue reading “When a Sawstop Can’t Save You”