Descriptive Essay About Camp Wakeshma

I vividly remember that chilly night in March as I walked out of Fifer, the building my father now calls home, for the first time. I had goosebumps, but they were not from the cold I felt hit my skin. Instead, they were from the sickness in my stomach. As I got in the car, I began to cry and had to stop myself from running back inside. My entire world had turned upside-down. How could I go home without my father? How could I leave him in a nursing home, a place where he was too young and mentally fit to be confined? I had to fight the feeling that he didn’t belong. I had to remind myself of why he chose to be there, and I hated it.

Soon after that dark but vivid experience, I found out some heartbreaking news. Her name was Tayloor’ Shae’ Johnson. She and I were so close that you could barely tell us apart. She helped me with all of my problems and everything that I was dealing with. Since my first grade year and her third-grade year, we have always been together. Then she had to move to Montana with her dad, because of family issues with her mom and step-dad. After proceeding off the airplane and getting in the car she was on the way to her father’s house when instantly an eighteen-wheeler truck impacted the car. Tayloor’ was immediately rushed to the hospital. The doctors didn’t know what else to do. She later was

I was brought up in a broken family where education was not a priority. I was shipped around from relative to relative and eventually I ended up in being place a couple of group homes. I was what some might call a problem child. I once went to a wilderness camp, there I learned a lot about surviving of the land and team work. This started my love affair with the great outdoors. I am grateful for the lessons that were taught to me. I learned to hunt, fish, and live off of the land. There are all things that I continue to love in my life now.

The article “Camping for Their Lives” the author did not provide enough points to prove his view that tent cities are the new form of informal urbanism and that housing like tents and shanties are a valuable solution for the increasing rate of homelessness in the country. The author also talks about the increasing population of people who live in so-called tent cities, and the controversies about the tent cities and how it did impact the community. This article shows the analyzation of the author’s technique used in article “Camping for Their Lives” with the use of strength and weakness evidence in the text.

Hearing that Kevin had cancer, paired with the devastated expression on his face, my heart sank. The occasional heaviness in the air at the shelter seemed to amplify and words – of which I usually have plenty – seemed to scurry from my tongue. I sat with him, I listened to him, and I did what I could to show him that I

There was a small tv blaring a report of a sports game on full volume directly in front of the couch with a small coffee table that was littered with cigarette butts in between. Jose the entire place stank of booze and smoke, I covered my nose with my jacket. “Treat yourself to something to drink”, he nodded towards the refrigerator. It was filled with bottles and bottles of alcohol. “Geez you should really take better care of yourself”, he rolled his eyes “kid it's my life I do what I want”. I sat down on the couch, I noticed among the mess of cigarette butts and empty bottles there was an old picture of what looks like him and a younger man with greased hair. “Who is this?” I pointed at the younger man,”It’s me.” “Then who is the older one?” I pointed. “That’s my brother Sven.” The tone of his voice changed, he sounded like mom on the worst day when she told me what happened. “He died when we were on an aerial raid in Afghan, the entire squadron got blown apart except me. I barely managed to escape.” He took a long drag, I suddenly got extremely heavy boots, it felt like I was being pulled down to the earth and there's nothing I could do about it. He extinguished the cancer stick, “I guess there are somethings that you can’t control no matter what.” I didn’t know what to

“He has cancer! The doctor said he has a week to two months to live,” my mother blubbered. I will always remember the feeling of emptiness that followed those words. My uncle, Tony, had been in and out of the hospital for over a month with doctors saying things like “it won’t hurt him to lose any weight and he is depressed from having his teeth removed.” A million questions started running through my head. “Why him?” I mean he has already been through so much and having Down Syndrome makes it so hard for him to understand what is going on with him. “Why did it take them so long to find it?” He was literally there the night before and they sent him home with an antibiotic. “How does someone who has never smoked get throat cancer?” This question

because of the love of a baby. Tommy Luck was known as "The Luck of

The sound of Whitney’s voice sing filled the camp with joy and positivity. For the first time in five days i finally dropped some timber and it was a five star poo. I looked up and a woodpecker looked right back at me. This started my morning off right. The group was a lot slower today due to will trying to get his glasses out of the water, his attempt failed. It was sad to see but he stayed positive.

During the GEOL252 Borland field camp, a number of different basement and basin rocks were examined. This report will contain descriptions and interpretations of the basement outcrop which is named the Triangle. This outcrop is best exposed on Borland Road, with a grid reference of 116455 491995, and can be seen in Figure 1 as an X. It will be on the left side coming from the east.

Good morning, this is Deanne and I’m talking with Jacki this morning and Jackie is going to give us a little insight on what she has seen at the camp and what she sees as progress and her experience as an instructor here working with the students.

The adrenaline poured into my stomach; as I recalled the day I was sentenced to what I considered, my purgatory. I pictured me on the edge of the table, a catastrophically frightened 17-year-old child. Distinctly I remember my white Jack Purcell’s, dangling above the dirty clinic floor. I had snuck down there with my money from working a burger- flipping job, and made the appointment. The random shift doctor, never made eye contact, and kept typing away while he retrieved a handful of standard pamphlets. “You really should consider talking to someone, an adult”, he recommended. I was paralyzed with fear, and nodded in compliance. “Well this isn’t uncommon for a circumstance like this. But don’t feel bad, you will be ok.” I recalled my breath stopping, “ You wont be able to have children though.” I felt ill, panicked, and queasy. He dryly continued “The assault left a lot of scar tissue.” I couldn’t move or speak. If I could have, what would I have said? I was in uncharted territory. I was frozen into stone. All my fears in life, known and unknown, were there, crowding the space in that room, and I was alone. I had choked back the well of tears, which would later become familiar friends through out my adult life. I walked down the corridor of the medical clinic, numb. I don’t even remember the next few days. No one in my life found out until years later, why I changed so much. I didn’t have the heart to tarnish the image. Their hopes and dreams for me, soon vanished. I was an Honor roll student, an athlete, and a naive Southern Baptist virgin. I was a typical, Southern raised, Norman Rockwell, smiley-faced country kid. It was all gone, with that one moment in time. A stranger’s heartless insanity, and violence, was now my

Zack's gaze seemed to be locked on the passing scenery, everything was covered in a blanket of snow, the window frosted as the cool air swept through the the broken bus windows. With the twins directly in-front of him and Dolly on his shoulder, he couldn't be happier, but he dare not show it. "I'm sure in the long run it'll be worth it." he pulled the shivering golden eyed girl closer to his chest, his hand running through her long black hair as he tried to comfort her. Being the suborn reaper that he was he didn't bother with reading the brochure, although he did know the basics. Monster Camp, a camp where the gifted go to learn to control their powers. Being one of the few requested to attend made the blue eyed boy scoffed, believing he had

The next few weeks passed by slowly and in all honestly, it was all a big blur. My heart still physically and emotionally ached, and I was still trying to wrap my mind around everything. Before I knew it, it was September and time for my Daddy’s first chemotherapy treatment. My parents kept insisting that I didn’t need to go to the appointment with them, but I knew that I needed to go. Not only to support both of them, but also for healing for myself. As we walked into the chemo room, it was like reality slapped me in the face. Up until this point, I think I was in denial and not willing to fully accept what my Daddy’s future held. I can still visualize the room with all the chairs, monitors, and IV pumps. The next eight hours passed by quicker than I imagined that they would. My Daddy did fantastic with the treatment. As we left the doctor’s office, I still didn’t know what the future held. The only thing I knew for certain was that my perspective on life had changed. I knew that I had been going through the day-to-day routine and just walking through life. But was I actually living it? Was I spending my days doing

As a little girl I did not know too much of anything. There was a little word [cancer]that I was told when I was in second grade, that changed my life permanently. The simple word [cancer] everybody is afraid of. When I was little, I lived with my grandfather. When I was child, my sister was always favored by my grandfather. As a child, I always wanted to go to my mom's house on the weekends. I was close to my grandfather, but not as close as I was with my mom. My mom would take me and my siblings to the park, and play with us when my grandfather would allow her to. When I was younger, my grandpa would set me on the counter while he cooked. For holidays we always went and cut down a Christmas tree. My grandpa did not believe in fake trees. One year was different when my mom bought a fake tree for him to put up. Little did I know he was getting really sick. I remember my mom saying that he was really sick. I was so confused because everyone gets sick, but they still do everyday things. The type of sickness my grandfather had was not just a little cough. When I saw my grandpa, he was in too much pain to do anything. My grandfather got more and more sick as time went on; I remember some days he would be in so much pain, and he would scream. The pain that my grandpa went through all started with a simple word. When the word cancer came out of my mother's mouth It just hit me. Cancer does not discriminate; it will ruin your family in a heartbeat.