Years ago, in New York City, thousands of people stopped running their rat race and looked up to see Harry Young, “The Human Fly,” climb the outside skin of the Martinique Hotel on Broadway. Each magnificent move Harry made seemed to be so sure and confident. Then, as Harry approached the top, he failed to gain the foot, and toehold that he needed. The crowd groaned as Harry fell to his death upon the pavement below. Harry’s wife fainted; many were sickened. The newspapers made mention of the sign Harry had attached to his shirt before he began his ascent. The sign read “Safety last.” Bold words if you can carry them out; pitiful, if you cannot.
