For some emergency reason-- civilian bomb shelters?-- we had to explore a series of culverts. My former boss at Apple, Tom L., went down to investigate but the whole culvert system filled up with water, dark and cold, quite suddenly. I expected him to surface but he didn't. After a few minutes, Carmel ran to find a phone to call 9-11; we didn't have our cells for some reason. A few more minutes went by and I decided to jump in, just in case he was trapped not far from the vertical shaft that led out. He was down at the bottom, about ten feet down. I pulled him up and out, certain that he was dead-- he'd been underwater for more than 20 minutes. I forced a bunch of water out of his lungs and then checked to see if he was breathing by holding my hand near his mouth. And he suddenly bit my hand! I thought maybe it was just a post-mortem muscle reflex, but then he opened his eyes a little bit. He seemed to be totally fine; he claimed he'd learned some sort of breathing control trick from an old kung fu master. When the paramedics arrived, they were baffled. "Kung fu or no kung fu, anyone who doesn't breathe for twenty minutes is gonna be dead or a vegetable."