I was working in NYC, coming up out the world trade pit every day. One day on my walk to the office, I stopped to grab a slice of pizza. The pizza joint was frontless—they rolled the shutters up and the mob stood three to five deep in front of the display case. Kinda like a popular bar. It was August and sweltering, so the fans were spinning full blast.
The fans were simple, short blades mounted on exposed electrical motors that looked to be 3/4 horse to my untrained eye. They were pushing a /lot/ of air around, and one threw a bearing or something. It started rattling and wobbling from its bracket, six feet above a glass display case. Everyone ignored it, both customers and staff.
I was at the front and thought I spotted a potential problem. I could all too easily imagine what 25lbs of whirling steel would do to sheet glass, so after a few moments when I realized nobody was going to move, I pushed my way backward. /Then/ the other people started edging back from the counter, and a staff member went and flipped the switch to turn that fan off.
Bravery is useful, but it needs to be tempered by judgement.
Absolutely true! This was a lesson that combat pilots (those who survived) learned about 1/4th way through their first tour, just after the stomach-gripping fear abated and the adrenalin addiction began. Those who didn't learn to honestly evaluate their capabilities vs the degree of danger before throwing themselves into harm's way, rarely finished the tour.