Andy Williams Narrative

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner, “Joe,” my father hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds upset.” As I came downstairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie.

It was an early Christmas morning, I could smell the sugar cookie smell making its way through my house. I could only think of one person that could make this happen, my Abuelita. “Grandma” I shout from my room as she was in the kitchen. I wanted cookies so bad before opening our presents. But we wait for my dad to come from his house before opening presents.

My name is Zach Reid, I have just been hired on as a new DST.

December eleventh, 2012, started out as any other Tuesday did. After school, I left with my friend, Jessica, and her mom to go pick up her little sister, Sophia, planning to go shopping before heading to a doctor's appointment. When picking up her sister, we stayed to talk and eat popcorn with the family who had been watching her for about half an hour before heading to the

Here’s the thing about high school, it’s terrible. Not because I don’t just absolutely love learning useless things like the makeup of a plant cell, but rather because teachers and students underestimate me or try to walk all over me because I’m that one kid who gets into fights and lives in detention. Oliver, he likes to call himself my dad ever since the adoption, I still call him Oliver to mess with him though, insists I need to graduate high school knowing I hate it. However he likes to tell me there’s a silver lining in everything and the silver lining for me going to school is Matt. Perfect, smart, cool, and absolute badass Matt Williams. Hockey team captain and resident popular guy.

Tuesday, September 12th wasn’t any normal day, it was a day of remembrance and sadness. Everyone in the family met at the church at 10 a.m., we then sat there and socialized until eleven o'clock. The preacher, pianist, and singer then walked out into the chapel where we all sat, with emptiness in our hearts. The pianist then started playing a church tune, and the singer, a lady from the church, started singing. Some of the people in the family then glanced at each other and tried not to laugh at the horrid sound of the lady. After she finally stopped singing, the pastor walked up to the casket. He then said, “Bow your heads, We stand here today to honor Robert F. “Bob” Williams.”

For my educational interview I wanted to talk to the teacher that that inspired me to go into education. Chris Wells has been teaching at Cottage Grove High School in Cottage Grove Oregon for 13 years. Wells received his bachelor's in Philosophy University of Oregon as well as his Masters in Education and his Masters in Science from the University of Oregon.

Taking a pew on our rooftop a few hours ago, while unravelling the missing links in the memoir I was reading to suppress my boredom. The moon illuminated for me to see every page. That brisk night was indifferent from the preceding evenings, apart from the impending dismal clouds gradually occupying the blank blanket overhead. Chilling wind of Yuletide touched my skin, luring me to fall asleep. Just before I knew that I was taken to a different world in the realms of dreams, I heard my mom in her quivering voice unceasingly shouting, “Call 117!”

It has been ten years, ten years since I have seen or even talked to my mother and Maggie. I am on my way home, I look out the window to my right and see a whole field of white with a family of deer. They seem so at peace. As the radio plays White Christmas, I really start dreading my decision to come home for the holidays. I know that last time I was with mother and Dee that I over reacted about the quilts, now that I think of it, mama made the right decision to give them to Dee. I regret the way I acted towards them. They tried to reach out to me over the years, but I just didn’t have it in me to have anything to do with them. After about 4 years they stopped trying to get ahold of me. I hadn’t told a single soul that I am coming

Sister Mary tells me I was left here at the age of five. “It was Christmas Eve, of all the nights, and snow was swirling though the air like it was dancing.” She explained to me. “The snow covered the tops of cars and mailboxes and Christmas decorations lit up the streets.” The way she explained it, the story seemed joyful and happy, but I had a different point of view. The little I do remember of the night was that the car was somber, and my babysitter Kate was driving. I remember tears welling up in her eyes, but I never have blamed her, it wasn’t her fault my parents didn’t want me. It wasn’t her fault my parents thought my disability made me less of a person. I don’t remember most of the night, because although I was five

It was just another day out on the farm in the middle of Illinois, were the only thing in sight were farm fields go on further than an human eye can see. When you look across the horizon the only thing you see is barns, two houses, one road, and farm fields. That is where Aaron Brown lives with his family. Where Aaron lives the closest school and town is about forty-five minutes away from his house.

By December, 1965, I had three younger siblings. My earliest memory is from that year. One of my uncles, I can’t remember which, dressed up as St. Nicholas and came to our house on Christmas Eve. Each one of us kids was so excited and trying to get on to St. Nick’s lap and tell him what we hoped to find under the tree the next morning. My brother Tommy was just a baby at the time and as the rest of us were vying for St. Nick’s attention, Tommy was screaming. My Dad started yelling at my Mom to, “Shut that baby up!” or something to that effect. If you have children, you know that yelling is not helpful when you’re trying to quiet a baby. My brother kept screaming, my Dad kept yelling and my Mom started crying. I came to find that throughout my childhood, my Mom would try to placate my Dad by saying, “Oh, Tom, it’s okay.” On this particular day, and as happened so many times afterward, my Dad just

Late night phone calls never end well, and this one was no exception. My mom answered the shrill ring of the landline early one Wednesday morning and was greeted by her sisters solemn voice. Aunt Mary told her that their mother wasn’t able to swallow food anymore; an obvious problem that had all the more meaning to her. Barely a month before, grandma’s sister, my Great Aunt Maureen, after a long period of declining health, quickly passed away after loosing her ability to swallow. It seemed that grandma would follow her sister’s example. Mom hung up the phone, the weight of the world settling around her shoulders, and booked a flight for the small Irish town she grew up in.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. We sat there watching people get their appliances and leave. We seemed invisible to them. As I sat in the car, burning up and listening to one of the most boring radio stations my mother could possibly like, I was thinking, “We’d better leave or else I’ll go ballistic!” After 30 minutes had passed, my mother got frustrated and politely asked to have our items loaded. Five more minutes passed, and she asked again with an attitude. They replied, “We’ll be with you in a minute, ma’am.” I could tell she was beginning to get upset because she started to get that “don’t bother me” look. Five minutes later they finally packed our appliances on the truck.

It was a stunning morning. The sun 's rays escaped the sun, entering Ian’s room through the window and then through the curtains. That day began with a pleasant morning but it ended with a terrifying nightmare which still lives up to this day. Like every day, five-year-old Ian woke up, ate breakfast and went to school. His father, Peter went off to go to work while his mother, Monica stayed home, for she was feeling poorly ill. Later that day when Ian arrived home, he was unpleasantly welcomed by his neighbors at the door. When he entered his home, there were numerous amount of people inside of his house. They were all sobbing in tears. A little later, Ian saw his dad sprinting inside the house who was also covered with tears. He ran over to him to ask what had happened. He remembers his dad telling him, “Son, your mother has left us. Soon, she shall safely arrive in heaven.” At that time, Ian did not understand what that meant, but today he wishes he never knew what it meant.