That reminds me: When I first started driving rig back around 2001 or so, I had to pickup a back haul from a soda pop distributor in Scranton PA after my delivery run to Red Lobsters and Olive Gardens through upper PA and upper NJ. This place ended up being way back on the edge of town, across a crumbling single lane bridge and everything, but this first time going there I'd never been there before. I had printed map and directions. Having never been off the highway down there before I knew nothing, had no cell phone (still don't!) and no GPS or city maps on hand. So I blindly followed what was given to me by the transportation supervisor. I ended up on some side street lined with houses and clearly residential only. And at what seemed to be about eye level to me in the cab of that Freightliner twin screw pulling a 48' liftgate reefer trailer was about 3 dozen black wires running across the street kind of diagonally between the houses. Phone lines? Cable TV? Electric? No idea. So there I was with no way out but straight because these old town streets are small and narrow and with cars on both sides I could never get back out. So forward I go, granny gear, idling, with my head out the window looking up at the first of many wires, sliding up the air dam, over the exhaust pipe outlet and straight down behind the cab and into the front of the trailer to be caught. I snapped at this point. I was stuck and I wasn't willing to call for help at this point. Long over night trip, problems on the farm waiting for me when I got back, extremely tired and worn out after handling 20 tons of freight case by case, and pissed that I was given totally wrong directions to the back haul. I totally snapped and was so pissed I didn't care anymore. Started banging up through low range, into 6th gear and high range, and kept banging till I was roaring up that little street, hearing and feeling popping and snapping all around me. The faster I went the less the effects of breaking wires and the quieter it got. I reckon the faster I went the better they were able to just skip over the gap between tractor and trailer. I hit every single damn wire on that street. I looked in the mirror just once, when I was still in low range and saw quickly a wire coming down and kind of bouncing around on the street just behind the trailer. I still don't know how many wires made it, were torn off, snapped, or otherwise. I never looked back again. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I reckon probably around half of those people lost some kind of service that day because there were quite loud noises and then barely could hear noises, and it seemed to be kind of half and half. Then I took a hard left, headed back to where the highway was, got up on the northbound ramp and headed home. Caught hell for not getting that IBC Rootbeer back haul but then I threw the directions at him and pointed out, "This is the residential section of Scranton - give me the right directions and I'll gladly get your back haul - next time - not now. Send the yard guy down to get it today - I gotta get outta here." He could see I was a bit wild and that it takes a lot to get me there, so he just said OK and that was that. I never heard a thing about that episode and this is the first time out in public with it. It's been over ten years so I reckon the statute of limitations is in effect, right? Is it 5 or ten years for that?