In 1990 they blew the 1920s era bridge over the river in the town where I was working. It's the bridge where my Grandfather stopped to give a woman a lift in the middle of a bad rain storm. 16 months (I think) later they were married, and she became my Grandmother.
They blew the bridge in sections over a series of days.
The first section went fine.
The second one?
Not so fine.
They launched large chunks of concrete over a good portion of the west end of town, broke a BUNCH of windows, and crack foundation walls on a number of houses. It's a freaking miracle no one was hurt.
