It was three weeks before my third birthday. The razor sharp air seemed to laugh at my winter coat, gloves, and hat. My Mother was pushing me along in a stroller at Carson Park. Walking briskly along the pond trail to keep warm, hiding that she did not want to be there. She knew that I loved to come look at the pond in the winter, and she braved the weather because of my birthday. I looked up with my curious eyes, trying to figure out why it was that the ducks left in the winter, why the water looked hard, and how people walked on the water like in the Bible. My Mother and I braved the weather for a whole day on the pond, and as the evening came, we decided to make our way home. She thought it would be nice if we took the long way out of the park and cross the bridge, and I couldn’t be more grateful, water mesmerized me. As we crossed the bridge, my world came to a halt. A group of crows feeding on a dead carcass scattered over my head. A man was standing on the other side of the bridge, with a shiny piece of metal in his hand. I didn’t understand, but my Mom knew that we were in danger, she knew what he held was a knife.
“LubDUB.” My heart screamed out. I knew something was wrong now. The man yelled and screamed word that I had never heard. My Mother secured herself as a barrier between the man and me. His black eyes met my confused scared eyes.
“Don’t hurt my mommy!” I screamed.
There was no reaction, no movement. The only sound was the crows cawing below. Then the man said, “How would you like to take a swim,” in a quaint, barely audible voice.
For a split second there was no movement, and then the man lunged at my Mother, and with the knife at her neck tipped me into the pond. I felt as if ...
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...need air quite yet. There would be plenty of breathing after this Slam! My competitor and I seemed to slam our hands into the wall simultaneously. I didn’t know who won. I looked at the score board. Looked at the scoreboard and it read, “Lane:3 Swimmer:Meier,usa TIME:44.9 Place:1.” Victory.
That was the first race of the rest of my life. In my junior year, my third year of high school, I was defeated by the member of the Greenwich Black Crows, but I still received third place in the state. Exactly three years after my second place performance earned me a spot on a collegiate swim team, it was me on the podium at trials. My victory wasn’t over my competitors, but the water, the water that beat me so many times before, it came down to a 43 second race in the Olympic trials and the three elements, one hydrogen, two oxygen, that I battled for so long.
Propaganda and Nazi rule surrounded the team, and the pressure piled on for their qualifying race. At the start line, their coxswain missed that start call, and they began almost two strokes behind - a massive loss in a race like this. Strategically playing the underdog, Washington stayed back, at a low stroke rate but with powerful strokes, slowly digging their way upwards. With a ghostly, pneumonia-stricken stroke seat, it was a wonder they made it past the halfway mark, but this sliver of time was all they had. In the last twelve hundred meters, they made their sprint, pulling across the finish line six-tenths of a second ahead of the Italian boat. And that is how Joe and his eight teammates won gold, forever immortalized as America’s team in the 1936
At age 11 he dropped out of school and joined a quartet of boys who sang in the street for money. Louis also worked for a Lithuanian-Jewish immigrant family, who had a junk-hauling business and often gave him odd jobs. They knew he lived without a father so they took him in and treated him as family.
“At this time in my life I lived in a very old town house, where I often heard unexplainable noises in the attic. One night, when I was about 11, my parents went out to a party, leaving me all alone. The night was stormy, with crashes of lightening and thunder outside. Having nothing to do, I fell asleep after eating too much ice cream. All of a sudden, my alarm clock goes off in the middle of the night, reading 3 o’clock. I’m wondering why ...
Louis Armstrong was born on August 4, 1901, in New Orleans, Louisiana, in the impoverished part of town, often called “The Battlefield”. He had one sister, Beatrice, who was born in 1903. His father, William Armstrong, was a factory worker and his mother, Mary Albert, resorted to prostitution to provide for the family after his father left. Because of this, Armstrong was often left with
Finish, Finish, Go, and Go you just set the new world record. Every four years lots of people gather around a pool cheering for Olympians. It is a very noisy place. A lot of Olympians that are part of the summer Olympics are very athletic, they swim all year around. The swimming Olympic history and background is very interesting. They have done so many new things over that past couple of years. They come out with new rules every year to make things more fair and challenging. There are a lot of events and tons of records that have been broke. A lot of Olympians have set future goals to stride for. I was swimming the 200 meter fly I was at a really good time when I had 50 meter sprint left at the end all I could think about was I’m going to set the new world record. Olympic swimming is a very fun sport it is very athletic. Every year in the summer time every one always sits around a TV watching this it is very famous in America. Swimmers from all around the world come and here and compete. There is a lot of competition there I have found out a lot about the history of swimming. There are a lot of events and tons of records that have been broke. A lot of Olympians have set future goals to stride for.
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
Almost as if in response, the heart gave one, tremendous pulse. My entire body shook and I — not knowing whether death or a real second chance awaited me — blacked out, ready to take on anything.
Death it is something we all must face at one point in our lives or another. It is either a death of a loved one, friend or co-worker. Sometimes it’s the devastation from a natural disaster. No matter what makes us face the idea of death it is how we handle this realization that truly matters. When Gilgamesh is faced with the horrendous loss of his dear friend and comrade Enkidu he begins to fear death. In Gilgamesh’s youth he is proud without fear of death, it is not until he watches his friend die that his own mortality becomes a fear.
One hot summer day as I walked in from what I expected to be a regular day, it was clearly revealed to me that my loved ones and I might see the end of our days. I was only nine years old but somehow I still managed to fully understand that my life was in immediate danger.My mothers boyfriend had plans to kill my mom and her three kids. As I walked into the kitchen to get a drink,four shiny bullets were laid out on the table,which made his plans of execution seem more realistic. As I
With shaky knees, I hesitantly made my way up the large white steps. With the back of my hand, I brushed away a few salty tears of relief. As I stood at the top of the podium and looked up into the packed stadium, my mind drifted back to everything I had gone through to achieve this moment, the day I became a state champion.
I dip my toes in—feels cold. My nerves rise up and spread like fire throughout my body while I watch—while I wait. Stomach hurts. All those butterflies clash and crowd. They come every time that I race—it never fails. There is so much noise—the splash of water, talking, yelling, whistling, cheering.
Aquaphobia is a fear that can affect one’s daily life in many drastic ways anywhere from personal to social to professional life. Aquaphobia is a specific phobia of water that involves a certain level of fear that is beyond the patient’s control. Aquaphobia even classifies as a panic disorder, which is a severe anxiety disorder characterized by reoccurring panic attacks with anticipatory anxiety and significant behavioral changes (Ajinkya, 2015). People that suffer from Aquaphobia may experience it even though they understand that the water from an ocean, lake, river, pool or even bathtub poses no imminent threat. Some causes of this phobia include the fear of drowning, experiencing a horrific accident or even overprotective parents. Some symptoms
It seems that in every facet of the media today, when it comes to teenagers and acts of extreme violence, people are quick to point the finger at violent video games. Several school shootings in the past were definitely used to target these types of games as the cause to violent youth. This response is usually not related to facts, but rather to emotions. People that blame violent video games for teenagers and their corrupted behaviors just want a simple answer to a complicated issue. Unfortunately, there is not just one cause that leads teenagers to commit violent acts.
I was four, I was carefree, I was full of life. Outside, we were free to do anything. My cousins, sister, and I could do whatever we wanted. The thoughts slipped through my mind, quick as a flowing river, and I did not have a care to catch it. All I was thinking about was a way to satisfy my immense and never ending curiosity. As my feet stepped onto the warm cement road where my cousin Isaiah was crouching and inspecting the ground,
Rolling waves gently brushed upon the sand and nipped softly at my toes. I gazed out into the oblivion of blue hue that lay before me. I stared hopefully at sun-filled sky, but I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to get through the day. Honestly, I never thought in a million years that my daughter and I would be homeless. Oh, how I yearned for our house in the suburbs. A pain wrenched at my heart when I was once reminded again of my beloved husband, Peter. I missed him so much and couldn’t help but ask God why he was taken from us. Living underneath Pier 14 was no life for Emily and me. I had to get us out of here and back on our feet. My stomach moaned angrily. I needed to somehow find food for us, but how? Suddenly, something slimy brushed up against my leg and pierced my thoughts. I jumped back and brushed the residue of sand of my legs. What was that? As my eyes skimmed the water in front of me, I noticed something spinning in the foam of the waves. Curiosity got the best of me and I went over to take a closer look. The object danced in the waves and eventually was coughed out onto the beach. “Emily!” I called to my eight-year-old daughter who was, at that time, infatuated with a seashell that she found earlier that day. “Come here and see this! Mommy found something.” Although I had no idea what that something was and I definitely didn’t know it would change my life forever.