There was a lot of noise and shouting by this time, but my grandmother knew just what came next. She reached for the matches for her cigarettes in her apron pocket and began to light the massive bobbins. Moving down the row, crawling fast and watching from the floor as the flames climbed the yarn and smoke began to billow at the ceiling. The workers went fast for the exits when she was pulled from under the spooler and tied to a sewing table chair by a floor manager.