The chair lay smashed in tiny pieces on the floor. I'm not certain how many times I had smashed it against the filing cabinet. It was the cabinet in which we kept the Pedder files (on Lake Pedder). Fortunately this was before the age of the church's descent in to child abuse infamy since, if you referred, today, to the location in which you kept your Pedder files many would look at you askance. Then no-one blinked. My memory is that I wielded the chair twice, with considerable force, but others, no doubt motivated by their concern for my welfare, say it was more - all no doubt to demonstrate my undoubted virility. Five or six times, they say. Oh, yes you were really angry. Well justified! And it was a well made chair!