In another life, I was an I.T. Support engineer in an academic institution. Although it wasn't strictly part of the job, I would often undertake minor repairs to the staff kit, such as mending frayed power cables or fixing broken connectors. There are quite a few tales there too, but I digress.
One day, a staff member came into the Helpdesk office bearing a carrier bag and a very sheepish expression. He had, he said, had an accident with his laptop, and it wasn't working, and did I think I could fix it? He opened the bag to reveal this mess:
After I stopped laughing (cruel, I know) I had to inform him that there was a chance that it might be beyond even my legendary abilities to resurrect this unfortunate item, and that he should bid a sorrowful farewell to his files and seek laptops new. This suggestion was accepted with a degree of rueful acknowledgement that in truth, he hadn't held out much hope anyway.
The full sequence of events was related. He had needed to go out of the house for a short time, and being conscious of the possibility of burglary he had looked around for a suitable place to conceal the laptop in his absence. As he was in the kitchen, the oven seemed to be a place that any thief would never look for a laptop, so in it went. Shortly after that, his wife came into the kitchen and proceeded to prepare the dinner, consisting in part of a nice apple crumble (you can see where this is heading). I suppose a black laptop does look a bit like a baking tray, but anyway for whatever reason she didn't realise the situation and switched on the oven to heat up while she mixed. After a while she noticed a distinctly un-crumbly smell and opened the oven....
Credit where it's due. Although the oven temperature clearly exceeded the melting point of most of the plastic components and turned them into a Dali-esque sculpture, this Dell has an alloy frame and top and bottom covers - these were surprisingly unaffected but the rest was, well, toast. The screen had melted and all the keys had evaporated from the keyboard, and everything was in a sorry state. I took the above photos just for the record because it's a sight you don't see often (although with Lithium Ion batteries becoming ubiquitous in cheap kit and charging not always sensibly controlled, we may see more incendiary incidents).
My colleague having gone off to throw himself under a handy train, I put the remains on a shelf and got on with something else.
Some time later I was poking at the pile of ash and I began to wonder what would happen if I connected a power supply to it. "Nothing" was the most I expected, although "lots of smoke and sparks" was also a possibility. Anyway, I went ahead and with the fire extinguisher close at hand, I connected the power unit and switched on. To my utter amazement, this is what I saw...
Phoenix or what? Way to go, Dell! |
The upshot of all this was that I chiselled out the hard drive and found that it was still operational, and I was able to recover my colleague's data for him. He was overjoyed and promised to tell Dell how impressed he was with the durability of their product, and he took away the bag of ashes for a decent burial.
Actually, it was a bit sad. This sturdy little machine was nobly doing its job and didn't ask, or deserve, to be baked to a crisp. I thought it was an effort worthy of high commendation that, with its last breath, it mustered enough life energy to let us know that it wasn't quite beaten. If it had not managed that, I wouldn't have attempted to remove the hard drive and try recovering the data, and all my colleague's work would have been lost.
Rest in peace, little champion.