Scared Stiff - Literally!

     It was a warm summer night.  I think I was around 9 years old, give or take a year.  We lived in Saginw Township on a busy street.  My mom was out on a date, my brother was at a friend's house for the night so my older sister had to babysit me.  There is a seven year age difference between us.  At my age I was normally the pesky little brat and she was the annoying teenage sister.  There were times we bickered but there were times we enjoyed being sisters.  This was a moment that we were enjoying our sisterhood.

     My sister Lisa and I were watching the horror movie Friday the 13th on TV.  It was one we had seen before.  I don't recall which Friday the 13th movie we were watching but we were curled up on the couch liking the movie.  There was a window next to the tv that was open to let the night air in.  The couch was across the room from that window.  At one killing scene I heard a strange sound coming from the window in a light whisper, "Jason, Jason, Jason....ah, ah, ah, ahhhh.."  Without moving my head I glanced my eyes over to the window.  I didn't see anything.  Just blackness.  Maybe I am just hearing things,  I thought and continued watching the movie.  Then a moment later the same sound was coming from the window.  "Jason, Jason, Jason...ah, ah, ah, ahhh..."   It was odd because I always thought the sound when Jason Voorheis was about to strike was, "ch, ch, ch, ch.   Ah, ah, ah, ahhh.".  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my sister turned her head towards the window.  Oh my gosh!  She heard something too!

     "Why don't you go shut and lock the front door."  Lisa said casually.  The main door was located behind the wall that the tv was on just in another room.  We could not see the front door from where we were sitting.  The wooden door was open leaving just a metal screen door to protect us from what is outside.

     My eyes popped out of my head.  "NO!  You go shut and lock the door!  You are older!"  I snapped back.

     "But you need to mind and I told YOU to do something!"  she piped back. 

     As we continued our arguing the screen door started opening and closing really fast.  We knew someone was there at the door.  Fear like I had never experienced flooded over my body.  My sister stands up abruptly and hollars, "QUICK!  FOLLOW ME!" and she dashes to the left to my brothers bedroom door(which was next to the couch), through his bedroom and out the other door in his room (which led to the kitchen) and out the kitchen back door to the outside.  She achieved freedom. 

     I think we both stood up at the same time but my brain lost all communication to my muscles.  They didn't want to move.  I had no feeling, at all, in my entire body.  I looked over and my sister was gone.  GONE!  SHE LEFT ME ALONE TO FACE THIS TERROR ENTERING OUR HOME!  I couldn't follow.  I couldn't move.  All I could do was think. Run to the bathroom, I would say to myself, No!  Then I would have to run past the door and whoever was breaking in would see me.  Our bathroom had the only interior door that locked.  A sure safety but too risky.  Hide underneath the computer table!  No!  To obvious.  Hide behind the tv.  No!  He would see me for sure.  Hide behind the curtain.  No!  It would puff out to where I was standing.  Nothing I could think of would be a safe hiding place.  Even if I could think of a safe place to hide I don't think my legs would be able to take me there.  Oh how I wished I was able to move and dash out the back like my sister did.

     I looked down at the coffee table and there was a glass cermanic gray elephant.  It was poised with the trunk curled up around to the top of the head, mouth open and one leg up in a prance.  Somehow, for a brief moment, my brain had a small communication with my upper half of my body and  I was able to reach down and grab this elephant by his trunk and raise it above my head.  I still could not move my lower half of my body.  This ceramic gray elephant was going to save me from whatever was behind the door trying to make its way inside to kill me.  I envisioned myself using this elephant to beat this person over and over until they were knocked out or dead. 

     The door stopped opening and closing.  I held my breath not knowing what to expect next.  My fingers tightened around the ceramic trunk of the elephant preparing myself to use it violently.  I closed my eyes for a moment.  All was silent.  An eerie silent.  I was as still as the statue I was holding.  It felt like an eternity had passed.  I strained hard to open my eyes.  I seen some movement.  Then my brain registered what I was seeing.  Shoes!  Shoes were being kicked off.  I looked harder.  I know those shoes.  Then a familar face appears from around the corner.  MATT!  It was my sister's boyfriend.  He looked over at me with a huge grin on his face amused that I was standing there with a ceramic elephant held high above my head. 

     Looking around he asks, "Where's your sister?"
 
     "She ran out the back." 

     He laughs and starts to put his shoes back on.  "Play along." he says and gives a wink. 

     Finally, my brain starts the communication process up with all my muscles and I was able to move again.  It was such a great feeling to be able to move and knowing that I was not about to be a worm's meal.  But now I was on the other side of the playing field, against my sister, who left me to die.  It was my turn to help her get scared.  I roamed around the house yelling out the dark windows, "Lisa!  I'm scared!  Help me!"  I would shout out while roaming around the house.

     A familar voice from the outside answered, "Go to our bedroom and open the window so I can climb back inside."

     I dashed to our bedroom, unlocked the latch and popped out the screen.  We gently placed our desk chair out the window so she can use that to step up and into the window.  She finally makes her way in the bedroom and hugs me tightly.  I remember thinking, she is probably sooo lucky I am not dead she knows mom would seriously go psycho on you if I were!

     Suddenly there was a slam at the back door.  This time she grabs my hand to make sure I stay with her and we go steadly towards the back door.  Knowing that I know it was Matt I was able to move along and play the part.  We proceed cautiously and carefully.  We pass through the kitchen, pass my brother's door, to the back door.  Lisa turns on the garage light, locks the door, and looks around through the glass in the door.  While we were busy looking to see if we can see anything in the garage Matt jumps out from our brother's bedroom and gives a loud roar.  Lisa jumps practically out of her skin and falls to the floor hysterically crying.  I jump sideways against the wall scrapping my back on the lightswitch.  Laughter came from my lips. 

     Over 25 years have passed but we still look back at this moment and remember the fear and laughter that came with it.  It may have not been our best sister/sister moment but it was a moment we shared and now laugh together.

Remembering the Challenger Explosion

     There are times in our lives when an event impacts us so much that when we hear about it, we are transported directly back in time to that day.  We remember small details that would seem meaningless any other time.  It could be a personal memorable moment or a national moment.  One of those moments for me happened on January 28th 1986 - The Challenger Explosion.

     This blog entry is dedicated to those who died in the Challenger. 
 In the back row, from left, mission specialist Ellison S. Onizuka, Teacher in Space Participant Sharon Christa McAuliffe, Payload Specialist Greg Jarvis and Mission specialist Judy Resnik. In the front row, from left, Pilot Mike Smith, Commander Dick Scobee, and Mission specialist Ron McNair.

     I was two weeks shy of my 9th birthday, in the third grade at St. Thomas Aquinas School in Saginaw, Mi.  Sister Sandy was one of the third grade teachers.  A lot of our class discussion that year was about how the space program was on a mission to send a teacher up and teach a class from space.  The teacher, Christa McAuliffe, we learned, was an average person, a wife, mother and teacher, that was selected by NASA to be a part of this historic event.  We were all mesmerized by the romance of the space program.  Many of my classmates wanted to become astronauts, myself included.  We would study all about the space program, first man on the moon, first air walk, how spacecrafts evolved.  Sister Sandy was one of the first teachers who discussed current events in our classroom. 

     It was the day of January 28th, 1986.  The day was like any other day.  I knew many of the adults were getting excited about the launching of the Challenger.  The junior high school students at St. Thomas Aquinas were all gathering together to watch it on TV.  We were a bit disappointed that we wouldn't be able to watch it ourselves.  Our lunch hour was at 11:30 and Sister Sandy excused herself to watch it with the other teachers in the teacher's lounge.  It was common for the students to eat lunch in the classroom and the teacher would go to the lounge before we would head outside to play.  On this day, it was biter cold and our recess was to be indoors. 

     We played and ran around the room and goofed off like what any other third grader would do on their indoor lunch break.  Everyone was enjoying their break.  Sister Sandy came into the classroom and we all scurried to our desks, even though we knew it was still a lunch break but no one wanted to be caught horsing around and getting into trouble.  We could tell she had been crying.  The room got serious real fast.  Something was the matter we just didn't know what. 

     Sister Sandy explained that there was terrible news.  The other teachers and herself were watching the launch in the lounge.  She informed us that something went wrong and the shuttle exploded and they believe everyone on board died.  A numbness filled the room.  It was so quiet that the ticking of the clock seemed loud at that moment.  Lesson plans were put away for the rest of the day.  We focused on talking about the accident.  I think Sister Sandy needed to talk about it as much as we students did. 

     Soon it was time to get ready to go home.  Usually we rush out to the hallways to get our snowgear, boots and bookbags.  Instead I grabbed my friend, Melissa, and told her we need to pray.  Under the crucifix hanging on the wall we knelt down, made the sign of the cross, In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen, and prayed for those who had died in the explosion and comfort for their families.  We followed it by reciting the Our Father Prayer then arose and walked quietly out to the hallway to gather our belongings.  Sister Sandy stopped us at the doorway and wondered what we were doing.  I simply told her we were praying.  She gave us huge hugs. 

     I got off the bus and went inside.  My mom, and my grandparents were already gathered in front of the the console TV.  They watched the whole thing and couldn't pull themselves away from the TV.  I sat myself on the couch and that is when I first seen the pictures of it.  I think I must of gasped by the horror of it all and then the realization that their families were probably in the crowd of people watching right there in Florida.  I couldn't imagine what it would be like seeing someone you loved, either a friend or a family member die like that and they were watching, powerless to help.  How do you walk away from something so tragic like that?  They would of had to scrape me off the stands. 

     Time marched on and as a nation we healed our wounds.  Five years later I was able to go to Washington D.C. for a class trip.  Walking through Arlington National Cemetery I came upon the Challenger Memorial.  I paused for a moment reliving the day all over again.  Their faces etched on the memorial gave tribute to those that lost their lives that day will never be forgotten.