Personal Narrative Essay: My First Appalachia Mission Trip

My trek first began sophomore year of High School when I heard about the infamous "Appalachia Mission Trip." When students talked about this trip, you got the impression that they had gone to New York City for a weekend bachelor party. As soon as I heard the upperclassmen guarantee it was the most fun they've had on school trip, I knew I had to experience it myself.

As it turns out, I had no idea what I was signing up for until we had our first meeting. The intimidating 6 foot 10 inch Kyle Goldcamp, Ex-minor league basketball player and head of the Lasallian Ministry department, was the first to talk about the responsibility and hard work this trip entails. As a fifteen year-old student, who at the time only cared about grades and sports,

I blocked out a significant portion of the car ride until the chaperone driving said "Only 30 more minutes to go boys." I'd like to tell you that what I saw was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced. The mountains looked like green waves that flowed infinitely with countless valleys crowded with life. This was the initial turning point in the trip that almost immediately altered my entire mentality for the trip.

The next morning, after a lengthy 5-hour night of sleep, my individual team of 11 people departed into the mountains in pursuit of a specific house that was in need of help. We got to the house which reeked of some kind of indescribable odor and waited outside for direction while our team leader talked to the handicapped homeowner, Jim. When I heard the Jim's story, I didn't once think about the "work as little as possible" mentality. He raised 11 grandchildren by himself after their parents overdosed on heroin.

By the end of the week, you would not have been able tell the difference between the initial home and final product. It was the first time I saw a grown man break down and start to cry. At that moment in my life, I knew I would never be the