Sitting in a wooden chair watching my son play as nothing bad is going on. He says, “Dad look.” Pointing towards the sky. One of the most scariest things passed my eyes besides the day I walked out of my house with no money to my families name. The blizzard darker than fresh asphalt coming toward the house. In my head I’m thinking, “What am I going to do, I’m already poor.” I grab some garb and a couple scrapings of food to have just in case the worst happens and tell my son to get in the house. The black blizzard blew over my piece of a house and blew my tractor away. “Son!,” I yelled after it passed over. I didn't hear a response the first time so I yelled again. He says, “Dad, over here to the right,” we got together and went outside to
Everything for a year had been leading up to this point and here I was in the middle of the happiest place on earth in tears because my friends had abandoned me in the middle of Disney on the senior trip.
Thunder rolled intensely outside, my aunt, mother, sister and I were sat calmly in the basement. We had been through this many times before; I mean afterall, Kansas was part of Tornado Alley. 2. My sister and I were young when this happened, her probably four or five, me about eight. 3. Before we had even started driving to my aunt’s house; since she’s the only one with a basement; my sister and I were complaining about being hungry. 4. Mom said she would get us something to eat soon, but then the sirens started blaring. 5. She called my aunt and told her we would be over in about ten minutes. 6. Me and my sister continued to complain about being hungry because, we always had to get what we wanted. 7. So my mom stopped at McDonald’s and got us some food. 8. After we were almost five minutes later than we said we would be my aunt panicked. 9. Jenny, my aunt, was calling like crazy. 10. When we finally got to her house she lectured my mom about how it wasn’t safe to have us out there like that with a tornado in the area. 11.Afterwards, we all sat on the porch and watched the storm. 12. That’s my favorite memory with my family, and it’s one I’ll never forget.
There is a point in everyone’s life where they wonder if something they are facing will ever end. March 4th, 1966, is the day that would begin the most profitable week ever for snow clearing businesses in the city of Winnipeg. Our city’s nickname as Winterpeg, Manisnowba was eternally cemented in the span of twenty hours. On that day, Winnipeg endured one of it’s most colossal snowstorms in it’s history. The snow stranded a large amount of people, stores turned into shelters, and it seemed like the snow would fall forever. The storm effectively shut the entire city down. Barbara Kaufman, my maternal grandmother, and Sybil Lerner, my paternal grandmother lived through this storm, and have recalled some of their memories. Both were mothers of
The activity that takes up the most of my time is running. Running has been a huge part of my life since I was ten years old. I dedicate my time to running because I care about how I do in every single race. The great thing about running is that winning does not always mean you get first place. Winning in running can simply be getting faster each race. Looking back on all the hard work I have put in, I can see all that running has paid off. Though I know not all of my speed came from myself, I have Heavenly Father to thank for helping me to be stronger mentally than I was physically. Since running is something that I want to get better at, I talk to a good friend named Moddie Despain about running strategies and techniques. He taught me the
As my brother and I were setting up the generator Dad was making fast work of the trees outside with his chainsaw. He had been worried about the loose limbs and them potentially breaking a window. I decided to give Dad a hand but before long I heard a shout, “Bradley!”. It was Mom, and I go by Brad so when she calls me by Bradley I know she is serious. She had the news on as she was packing our just-in-case bags which had everything you needed from a toothbrush and toothpaste to a lighter and flashlight. She even threw in an extra pair of my socks, you know just mom things. “The storm is expected to arrive in less than 30 minutes”, she said “tell Dad to hurry and get inside.” So as every good child would do I told my Dad it was time to come inside, he agreed as we could see the storm coming in the distance. Hurricane Harvey was massive, the biggest I have ever seen and hopefully the biggest I will ever see. We returned to the living room to find Bryan and Mom with Shasta, our pet dog. Mom lit some candles around the house so when the power goes out we will be able to navigate
We closed the trucks and trudged to each side of the two trucks. I dropped down in the seat and stared out the open door before sitting up to tug my blond, curly, noodle like hair into a tight ponytail. I slammed my door closed and slid my seatbelt around my body. I let the sound of silence crash down on me like waves. The silence broke as my dad slammed his door closed. I gave him a quick glance before turning to the window and staring at the large tan building. “You ready, kiddo?” I could basically hear the smile on his face as he spoke. “If we’re being honest here, no” I snickered. He pats my head and started the car. The car roared before falling
Now that I was by myself out in the shallow woods of the back of my yard, I became nervous again that it was going to come and get me when I wasn't looking. All of the sudden when I was walking out of a small tree line, coming among a small frozen creek, I stopped and looked around for a moment. When it appeared that there was nothing there, I turned around, only to see the snowman standing there looking down at me. When we had built him though, he had barely been my little brothers height. But now he was easily
It was similar to the suburban street I grew up on, but in lieu of cookie-cutter houses with stale Bermuda grass, there stood wood cabins with yards covered in snow. The reddish-orange light emanating from the towering street lights pierced through a white fog and gently illuminated the area. Exiting the car, I was overwhelmed with a flurry of new sensations. The gently falling snow absorbed all of the sounds I was used to hearing in a residential area.The low hum of passing cars, birds singing from the trees, and the sound of blowing wind appeared to be muffled, even silenced, by the steady falling snow. I felt enveloped in a cool, but somehow familiar blanket. The smell of burning wood was coming from every direction, as each house I looked at had a thin, grayish plume rising gently from the chimney. The plumes represented the warmth and comfort of the many people I imagined to be nestled by the fire. Looking down the street, I noticed how freshly plowed it was. A thin layer of snow and ice-- like icing on a cupcake, or the glass top on my parent’s nightstand-- covered the street. But on the side of the street sat a pile of snow that could have swallowed me alive. Feeling taunted, I stood there and weighed my options. Chest deep mounds of frozen crystals begged me to dive in and lose myself. Preparing to succumb to the temptations before me, I was momentarily hindered by the fear of my parent’s wrath. But had that ever stopped me
I told him, “No.” He offered to come right then and take care of it. I protested, “Dad, the plows haven’t been out yet, and the eight-mile drive will be brutal.” He replied, “Find someone to shovel your driveway in the next half hour or I am driving out there.” I hung up the phone and must have looked terrible because my tender-hearted five-year-old son looked at me and asked, “What is wrong, Mommy?” “It is not safe for me to shovel the snow because it is too heavy.” I glumly replied. He looked up at me, his eyes shining a combination of chivalry and excitement and said, “I can do it, Mom!” My heart nearly exploded from a combination of pride and love, mingled with fear. I pictured my little man struggling with all his might to dig us an escape route to church. Dread stole my emotions; I couldn’t send him out there. In a split-second of momma-bear panic, I realized I had to do the unthinkable; ask for help. With trembling fingers and anxiety ringing in my ears, I called my home-teachers. The thought of my little guy struggling under the weight of snow allowed the words, “I need help” to creep from my lips. Suddenly from the other room I hear screaming mixed with a roar from outside of a snow blower clearing the sidewalk, “He’s doing my job. I wanted to do it. I wanted to
On February 21, 2016, I, Deputy John Arnold, went to 11747 West 105th Street South to assist another deputy in reference to a fight in progress.
Have you ever had your heart ripped out of your chest cavity in your most vulnerable time and had it crushed by the weight of 1,000 suns? No? Well I have. And I’m not talking in the romantic sense, or that of a deep love for someone, I’m talking about the fiery fervor of fandom. Whether it’s fandom for a sports team, a band, or a television show, mostly everyone is a fan of something. Of all the things that i'm a fan of, my biggest fandom is for the San Antonio Spurs, the only professional sports team in San Antonio, Texas, where I was born and raised. The Spurs are a historically great franchise winning 60% of all of their games ever played, and winning five NBA championships. But it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows for the Spurs, in fact quite recently there was a very dark period for the team, where a single shot leveled the morale of the team and an
Once upon a time there was a 19-year-old named Alex Jackson, and he was bored. Since his parents had gone on vacation, Alex didn’t have that much to do. Alex liked math and chess, but chess tournaments came up once a month. Recreational chess wasn’t fun because no one would play with him, and ‘recreational math’ was not a thing. He never cared about the newspaper, and frolicking in the playground was gone at age 6. Well, Alex thought, at least there’s going to be a chess tournament this afternoon. Still, life seems boring, and it's not getting better. Nothing's come up, and nothing ever will. Alex walked around his house, thinking about nothing in particular. I actually need to do something. There’s nothing to do but sit and wait until I leave
My 3am alarm buzzed. I turned over and groaned. It was June 20, 2010, a day I had been dreading since the beginning of the school year. And what I mean by that is, that August my parents met with my middle school vice president regarding the matter of a kid I was sponsoring. However, it went a full 360 degrees, from them simply asking about the organization, KidsAlive, to them applying as part time missionaries overseas. They were approved and set to leave ASAP. As you can imagine, this did not fly with me. I liked my American life, my friends, my big house, and my private school. I was as happy as a clam in my secluded sea of paradise. So the night before this execrated day, the evil-genius within my 11 year-old self devised a plan; I was
I am jarred out of a relaxing sleep by a voice yelling my name in a loud whisper, and a light burning through my eyelids. Groggily, I open my eyes to see my father standing in the doorway to my messy room. He tells me that I need to get going, that it is 3:00 a.m., and I'm burning daylight. I find my clothes and get dressed. The whole time I wonder why I get up this early to visit the rugged outdoors. I want to go back to bed, but I know my dad will be back in to make sure I am getting ready, in a little bit. Instead, I put my boots and my wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat on, and walked out to catch the horses. The horses are all excited because it is dark and they are not that cooperative. My dad and I get them saddled and in the trailer, and go back into the house to get our lunch, water, and a cup of coffee. Now, we can head for the high country.
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.