Delaware.....
I had traveled from the suburbs of Philadelphia, and deep into the State of Delaware to film a total eclipse of the sun from a high remote vantage point within the state; where on that day, the moon would completely block-out the sun for an extended period of time.
I had hardly set up the movie camera equipment in a small clearing in the woods atop the hill, when I was suddenly beset upon by a group of disgruntled, union HVAC repairmen who had broke from the tree-line - and who, being midgets, were expert duct-work and ventilation shaft specialists - and, they were holding a secret meeting on this very same high hill - disguised to be their annual Deer Hunting Trip - and I, had accidentally stumbled upon their secret meeting, where they were planning an all-labor strike across the entire state; this, after having all been laid-off of their union jobs at the factory where they had worked for years, due low demand during the unusually cool summer the East Coast was experiencing that year.
Mistaking me in their blind rage and paranoia for some sort of corporate spy from the factory, or possibly an anti-union agent, their razor sharp arrows whistled all around me.
There was no way out.
While it was difficult to perfectly understand the regional Delawarean accent of the group leader, one thing was very clear, they intended me to face a firing squad of their blow-guns with poison hunting darts. It looked like the end; but, thinking coolly, I refused the traditional blindfold and reminded the leader that anyone who faces a firing squad is always granted a last request.
The group leader agreed.
So, producing my trusty pipe and pouch of pipe tobacco, I asked the leader for a book of matches, so I could enjoy one last bowl of my all-time favorite smoke: Middleton's Prince Albert.
I realized that the eclipse was beginning; and then, just when the moon had completely blocked out the light from the sun - plunging us all into sudden and total darkness - I quickly struck alight the entire book of matches, and holding it high above the heads of angry midget union-men to light my way, I dashed through the woods, down the steep hill, and hurried to the freedom of the Pennsylvania State line.
Delaware... being somewhat preoccupied at the time, I do not recall seeing any pipe shops during my trip there. - Sherm Natman
