I had acquired a gigantic old frame house in Portsmouth. The house had been a mansion at one time but now was dilapidated. When I started working on the house, I called my ex-brother-in-law James to come and help me, and he showed up. He looked about 30 years old. I walked through the house with him, pointing out the many problems.

I wanted him to go with me into a section of the house which I had only been in once a long time ago. The section seemed like an addition which contained several apartments where renters were living. I wanted to go to an attic over that section where a bunch of stuff used to be stored, to see if the stuff was still there. To  reach the attic, we climbed to an upper story, and then out onto a roof. A ladder on the roof led to a little attic window. I climbed up the ladder and I pulled myself through the little window into the attic. 

James was following me on the ladder. Once I was inside and I looked back out, I could see James about half way up the ladder. Suddenly, without warning, the whole house started to tip and the ladder also tipped backwards. From my perch, I saw the problem before James did and I hollered to him, but it was too late. The house stopped tipping, but the ladder fell backwards and James fell off onto the porch roof. He quickly rolled down the roof toward the edge and rolled off. We were high up on an upper-story roof and another lower-story roof was below this one. James had probably rolled off this roof onto the one below, and then off the lower roof to the ground below. I felt sure he was dead. I was very upset. I certainly didn't want to see James die, but obviously he was probably dead.

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