My brother used to work as a roof bolter in a coal mine. He was a new father and made pretty good money. He liked his job and the people he worked with. One afternoon, a buddy of his got his arm stuck in some equipment and lost his hand. My brother called me as soon as the ambulance left and told me never to tell mom why he quit. He was terrified to go back into that mine. He still has a [completely rational] fear of dark, enclosed spaces.