David Laskin’s The Children’s Blizzard explains the devastating force of an intense blizzard, which caught several people unprepared, and it tells the tragic stories of these people. On January 12, 1888 a massive blizzard struck the center of North America, killing between 250 to 500 people and affecting thousands. There were many factors that made this blizzard exceptionally deadly. Many farmers and children who were outside were unprepared to deal with any cold conditions, “a day when children had raced to school with no coats or gloves and farmers were far from home doing chores they had put off during the long siege of cold” (Laskin 2). The reason for this is because they had no idea the blizzard was coming. In this time the weather forecasts
One thing haunts me from that day more than anything else. The scream of crippling pain and horror Mother made when the Nazis shot my father.The memory of that sound aches more than the old bullet hole in my back, and stings more than the day I received it. I was holding my breath and squeezing my knees to my chest as I watched through a crack in my bedroom door all those years ago. I never understood why they shot him. One minute they were both on their knees, in our small, quiet living room, begging for the Nazis ' mercy, and the next my father was blown backwards. Then my mother screamed that scream, the variety of sound that makes your eyes burn and your soul wince. The next thing I knew I was bursting out the kitchen door, running from that sound. I didn’t know where I was running to, I just knew I had to get out there before I saw my mother shot, or get killed
When I was eight, my family could not believe what I was doing to my nanny on the way to Gatlinburg. My family and I begin to scavenge our belongings to place in my mother 's car, my anxiety and excitement begins to rise. We all start to swarm in the vehicle and to my recollection, I notice the sun beginning to ascend over the horizon. My mother stomped on the gas pedal to accelerate the car forward out of our driveway onto the road. In the car, my parents occupy the front driver and passenger seats, my brother sits next to the window behind my mother and I sit behind my father, which leaves the middle seat for my nanny to take up. On the way, we all resolved to make a pit-stop by McDonald 's to get some breakfast. Our on selves stayed approximately an hour seeing that I pleaded my family to get back onto the road on behalf of my patience escalating very slim.
It felt like a knife was stabbing me right in the leg. I noticed a considerable amount of other campers staring at me as I was laying on the ground in pain. “Ouch! Oh my gosh!” I held my leg as I yelled loudly. I don’t remember exactly how it felt when it first happened, but I do remember that right when I hit the solid concrete floor, I knew what had happened. Never again was I going to mess around with one of those skateboards, especially since I didn’t know exactly what I was doing. My head was spinning with confusion. I tried to stand up, except I fell right back down in even more pain. Everybody at camp was looking at me as I was crying, holding onto my leg as tight as I could.
Jonathan had lost breath after a few minutes that felt like hours. He ran into a bush and ducked down whispering to himself, "Help me.. help me.. Please.". Jonathan heard a faint growl and moved around the bush. He began to make a loud sound of pain as a thorn stuck itself into his shoulder. The creature sprang near an area of grass nearby the bush. It began circling the bush as Jonathan attempted to shield his mouth from making more sound. Jonathan bolted out of the bush running quickly, attempting to push sticks in the way of the creature. He caught his leg on a stick he was trying to push into the way and fell. Silence fell as Jonathan looked around Terrified. A scream escaped Jonathan's mouth as the creature began leaping at him. He had
Instead of hating bugs or spiders, I hated the outside as a child. Preferring to stay indoors, I spent my hours reading and drawing, dreading the moments my parents dragged me to a field to force sports down my throat. Basketball, soccer, volleyball; I tried all and loathed indiscriminately. Unfortunately, my father loved the outdoors, saving money for exotic vacations such as driving to the tip of Mexico instead of buying the latest iphone. Forced to go along with the rest of the family, I despised every minute of it. Until Yosemite.
I was lying in a pool of blood. It was my own. Deep gashes on my face and neck were gurgling. The rhinestone collar I wore did little to protect me. I was becoming faint. In the twilightbetween life and death, I pondered how this had happened. I wanted to turn the clock back, reverse time, and start over. Somehow, as I drifted further away, everything became clear.
Dad stayed in the hospital for over a week by the time he came home, he had put over 70 Ivs in his arms. Dad was nervous to go to his appointment the next week because he didn’t want to stay there again. It was harsh that year he sleepwalked out in the cold to go to town but couldn’t find the keys. Mom told everyone to get up and help find dad, so I looked outside and when I looked in the car there he was sleeping in the driver seat. With the doctor bills and all of the other stuff we are kind of broke. When you're told all of that information I had a lot of thoughts. At night I had dreams about what you guys put up with. The only thing that didn’t like was the killing. Ya it was what you had to do but that is a little
2:14AM. Frankie’s apartment was both cold and tranquil. The walls were a light grey, and the blinds were shut only to where the slightest bit of city lights shone through. Ariana tossed and turned around the flimsy pullout couch, continuously flipping her pillow over in hopes that the cooler side would prove soothing. She had visited her brother’s New York loft with an unfortunate mindset. It seemed that as each day elapsed, she found her pace quickening as she relentlessly continued to stroll down the path to her own destruction; she was falling through the darkness of her own mind, hastily descending into that frigid, black crevice in which she had, to some extent, always been imprisoned in. Going to another with her troubles had seemed like
The moonlight shone between the branches, a gentle breeze caused the leaves to dance beautifully. Fallen leaves and twigs crunched under our feet as we ran through the woods. Our giggles echoed through the seemingly endless ocean of trees. He held my hand as he lead me through the calm and peaceful forest, until we finally came across a small little clearing. It seemed to satisfy him, because as soon as we reached it, he turned around and gently pressed his lips against mine. I leaned against the closest tree and wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling him pull me closer as he snaked his arms around my waist. It was perfect, he was perfect, he was the one. We continued kissing for awhile, until all of a sudden we heard a branch break
Part Two On the Road Day 1. Santa Monica, California. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is crazy.” I announced. My bike’s all loaded up. Two month’s worth of supplies of food, gear, you name it. I’m beginning to think I look more adventurous than I actually am right now. This could
A warm morning, sun shining with a slight breeze, and calm waters; the perfect day to learn how to water ski. I had never been water skiing before, I barely knew what it was, I was anxious to say in the least. I stood on the dock as my parents maneuvered the boat into the water, I’ve never been so uncertain. My family reassured me that everything would be okay as I was strapped up my life jacket. I stood on the edge of the boat, apprehensive, but I had to jump in the water, it was now or never.
It al started that one morning on what was supposed to one of our yearly family vacations. I remember waking up the very first morning in, Vienna, Maine, where our grandfather owns one of the largest log cabins along side Flying Lake. Being at this cabin each year defined my