Chapin Johnson: A Short Story

Johnson had died in 1670, and no one had known exactly when he had been born. That was left to be a mystery. He was originally from Angola and brought to English settlement of Jamestown in the early 1600s (Blacks Were Not only Slaves 2013, 71). Since documentary accounts of lives of the first generation were not as credible, no one knows for certain whether the African Americans arrived in the New World as slaves or indentured servants (Gary 2008,). Documents of Johnson revealed that he was able to gain his freedom. With his freedom, he managed to buy hundreds of acres of land and became a successful tobacco grower (Gary 2008,). He even had his own indentured servants including, a fellow African whom Johnson was allowed to

In “Work” by Dennis Johnson, it is a story about the author and his friend, Wayne, trying to gain money by doing a rescue job. However, it turns out that the Wayne brought the author to Wayne’s house and his wife. I did not like the story; however, some of the contexts of the story can help with writing my own story. The story has a characterization of Wayne through dialogue. For example, the narrator and Wayne were drinking at the Vine and Wayne said “’How would you feel about making some money’? he asked me… ‘I decided’ he said, ‘in my mind, to take some money…’ ‘Come with me,’ he begged” (Johnson 56). Through the dialogue, Wayne is the type of person that decides/ take leadership in their jobs. The narrator just follows what Wayne says.

Jim, Skinny Bone Jones and his dragon were outnumbered. But, Silver flames easily burned the red rage soldiers and made her way to the weapon alley. The dragon teared the door open and squeezed in the door. Jim quickly put a force field bubble which prevented the guards from getting in. The weapon alley was so big that the dragon could stretch its huge wings. Also, the weapon alley had space planes and had his Cheetah 36. They must’ve combined the weapon alley and their space planes together. The weapon alley had so many weapons and armor that they can use. “Take as much as you can and put it in my ship,” said Jim.

Soul by soul by Walter Johnson interprets life inside the antebellum slave market by using evidence and information through slave narratives and slave-holders’ letter. Walter Johnson conveys this by talking about different influences (physical, psychological, social, and genealogical) throughout the book. During the reading Walter Johnson shows evidence of how slave market impacted the lives of slave and how the slave market generated a status among the slave buyers and slave traders. Dehumanization ; Walter Johnson refers to a slave as ‘a person with a price’ because like other pieces of property, slaves spent most of their time outside the market held to a standard of value but rarely priced. Any slave’s identity could be disrupted as easily as a price could be set and a piece of paper passed from one hand to another (p.19).

Frist off to build a fire I need to gather my materials. These materials are as follows: a lighter, rocks, a place to build the fire, some wood of all different sizes, a pocketknife, and about two handfuls of a tinder. So now you must be wondering what tinder is? Well it’s simple; tinder is a material that you light to start a fire. Tinder is also considered to be stage one in the fire building process. Which means it’s the first material in the fire to burn, and it needs to light the next level. Materials that can be used as tinder is newspaper, dryer lint, hay, and cardboard.

Levi Owens expected a showdown. Although he wasn’t sure how the swindle worked, he suspected the bank manager and someone in the land office were in cahoots. He’d read about land-grabbing cheats, respectable businessmen who forged papers and let the bank foreclose on innocent debtors.

I am immensely grateful to have the opportunity to share my knowledge of someone who has inspired and motivated me throughout my lifetime and deserves recognition. John Harold Johnson was born in January 1918 in Arkansas City, Arkansas. Sadly, African Americans had no chance for an education beyond eighth grade in Arkansas City, Arkansas, so, Johnson and his family moved to Chicago where he attended DuSable High School.

To and fro, to and fro. It had become all but unnoticeable, but sure enough there it was, John Titor had only to focus on it for a few, select moments. He did so sometimes, Ironically, to keep himself grounded; to remind him where he was and how important it was that he was there. There being the U.S.S. Enola Gay, what was referred to back in the States as the most important ship on the seas. Titor couldn’t agree more, it would be hard to refute given their circumstance. On the surface level it seemed mundane, being anchored only miles offshore a small fishing village. He held it down with his eyes from the deck of the ship as though the houses and trees would fly away, staring so intently he didn’t notice Jameson approaching. By the time Jameson gave his throat a restrained clearing he was already saluting Titor. Titor responded with a

The day was bright and sunny, perfect for the festivities. Everyone in the quaint little town of Black Rock came out for the unveiling. A steady breeze, flowing down from the towering mountains, wove in between those gathered; tussling hair, knocking over the occasional empty drink cup, and stealing children’s balloons if they were careless. The food tables overflowed with every dish imaginable, letting everyone pick from delights as they chose. The hum of a coal barge became background noise as it lumbered up the Kanawha River. It’s crew unaware of the excitement just a stones throw away. As noon approached, everyone gravitated to the bandstand while the local bluegrass band finished their rendition of “Country Roads.”

Scott Parker had lived through a lot of shit. That was to be expected, after working for the Federal Bureau of Investigations for over thirty years. This week though... God, this week had been, without a doubt, the worst week of his life. In the span of days, two of his best agents, his friends, had been blown up, their funerals had been conducted, and he'd been not so subtlety prompted to retire. Scott was nearly sixty, but he was still in prime shape. Physically, at least. Psychologically... thinking back to the funeral of Chang and LaRoche only yesterday, he wondered if retirement really was the way to go.

He called and stated that he was left alone at work. He was asked to run a forklift and bring his own material to his machine. I asked him did he know how to run a forklift and he said yes. He also stated that the supervisor left work and went home. There was a guy who was there with him name Corey. Corey would sometime come and help him, when the machine was down. He stated that Corey was not always their to help. He would have to go find Corey sometimes to fix the machine. He is scared that if we say something to the company about what happen he might be fired.

Dibby Blackwell is your typical fourteen -year-old middle school girl. This usually means the littlest problem becomes the end of the world. Dibby has long brown hair that is usually in a braid, a forehead dotted with traces of acne, and braces the color of pink cotton candy. About 2 hours of school has passed. At Westwick middle school students always eat lunch with their grade. Later that night there was a seventh-grade dance, so tickets are sold during lunch. Lunch time arrives. Everyone left class early trying to get a good spot in line. Dibby walks to the lunchroom door to see her crush, Mark Angelman standing in line waiting to purchase his ticket to the dance. Mark Angelman is the captain of the bowling team. He has dark chocolate brown hair, olive skin and a smile that could stop traffic. He was beyond dreamy and out of her league at least Dibby thought so.

Family was everything to Halian Kingston at a young age, blood or not blood. He didn’t care that his father had abused his mother in front of him, he still loved him, knowing there was something wrong with his father and that it wasn’t him, but rather whatever tweak he had in his brain that he refused to fix. Halian was a momma’s boy as a child, staying beside her, helping her when his father would beat her, he loved her more than he could anyone. All that changed when a robbery broke out in his neighborhood not too shy from him being eighteen years old. Everyone was robbed their electronics, money, etc., but Halian was robbed something different. His parents bed filled with blood that slowly seeped through the sheets. After the young boy lost his parents, he refused to communicate with anyone, becoming

Yes. This is a story about me; Sammy McDiarmid. How I became a great villain. Everyone knows that's what I am, a villain. But how I became one? Here's how it all began.

He threw the big wad of cash to his partner, and ran yelling, “I’ll meet you at Main & 5th!”