Elrey B Jeppesen Short Story

“An investment in knowledge pays the greatest interest.” Todd Ufkes grew up in a large family where he was the youngest, so he was forced use his wits to make himself known. He graduated from the University of Michigan with a Masters Degree and now works as a nurse. He now has a wife and 2 children, one of whom is myself. Because my dad works so hard, does what he loves through music, recovered from cancer,and always pushes me harder than I believe I can do myself, he is my inspirational hero.

I was five when I saw an f-22 Raptor break the sound barrier. There was a lull in the atmosphere as it silently glided across the sky, I counted...one, two, three; it was out of sight. Behind it came the sound like a tsunami on an empty beach, crashing and rattling everything in its path. It was beautiful. I looked to my aunt, uncle, and mother all in battle dress with a grin. I knew I had to fly. The discipline I learned from growing up in a military family has prepared and inspired my pursuit of flight.

Throughout my life, my parents instilled the importance of being educated and although I enlisted in the military, that did not stop me from pursuing my educational goals. Within six months of being assigned to my new base, I enrolled in college and started taking classes. By the second semester, I established a partnership with a local college so other airmen within my unit could take classes together and be collectively supportive of their educational endeavors. This was the first ever unit supported college class for our element.

As a result of his close associations with shipping and the railroads during about ten years of working in the grain business, Dad devel-oped an intense interest in railroading which never died. Railroading was a dangerous business around the turn of the 20th century, per-haps the equivalent of the airline business in the 1930s and 40s. A career with the railroads was discouraged by the family, so Dad never pursued his dream. He succumbed to family pressure around 1913 and returned to Hokah to run the family grocery store, Reilly & Reilly, along with his sister Nell. I think his disappointment over railroading was a major factor in his later acquiescence to my en-deavors in the aviation industry, neither encouraged nor

Jeremy Johnson had always knew he didn’t belong in unkempt Agrestic with its uneducated residents and a high murder rate. Although he had to live in such awful conditions he defied the typical poor black high school stereotype and excelled in school, was caption of his school’s basketball team, and volunteered at his local youth group. All he wanted was to complete his senior year and get out of the town with his scholarship to Howard University, but he couldn’t graduate without doing one thing first. Helping Lydia. He knew his sister was heading down a life-threatening path and he’d do anything to help her.

We always cleaned our plates at my house. No food left, slicker than a whistle, shining clean. It’s still difficult for me to leave food on my plate, whether I’m full or not, even though Weight Watchers tells me it’s okay. Looking back, it’s obvious I learned to clean my plate from my father.

As long I can remember, my parents believed education was key to everything great in life. I grew up in a small town in Girgi, Ethiopian. My father was the only electrician in the neighborhood. He was the person that everyone would come to when they needed any electronic devices to be fixed. It was very exciting when someone brings there broken divice to our house. I vividly remember many nights that we spend fixing up TV’s, VHS and DVD players. I used to think that it was very interesting looking at the circuit boards wondering what any of the colorful doted do, and how can makes up to a TV or radio. Thus, when the time comes to choose a major that I wanted pursue, it was an easy decision for me. The first time that I had the chance to learn about it was my first two months of college in Ethiopia, but it was short lived because my family had the opportunity to come to America for a better life.

Fen and Asher's grandfather and guardian resided on an atoll off the mainland, the last remnant of a sunken island that in former days had been inhabited by able-bodied sailors and bosomy bawds. Centuries ago, a lighthouse was erected far below the lagoon's watery depths, rising hundreds of feet to breach the low-slung clouds. Twice a week, on Thursday afternoons and Sunday mornings, Dr. Harrold (a widowed woman of hazy vision and memory) would sail out to check up on the hermetic old man and his two grandchildren who resided in the tumbledown lighthouse. When she was still a slat-thin and wild-eyed child marooned on the edge of puberty, Fen earned her weekly passage across the waters by gathering--per the good doctor's instructions--medicinal plants that grew abundantly around the lagoon.

Through this malaise of bad news, however, there was a scattering of good. Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Brooks of Epworth received information that their son Tom, of the East Yorkshire Regiment, had arrived back in Britain. Tom had been a prisoner of the Germans since March 1918 and his injuries had meant he had to remain abroad until he was fit to travel home. Finally, he was moved to the King George Hospital on Stamford Street, London amid much rejoicing. He told his parents he was being ‘fed up a bit’ and went on to add that, ‘I cannot explain in words how glad I am to be once more in Blighty.’ Around the same time Private James Jubb of the Yorks and Lancs Regiment, whose wife, fearing him dead, had been living with her parents at the Fruit Gardens in Epworth, arrived home having been a prisoner in Germany for several months. He found the house locked and boarded up! Private Selwyn Crosby of Rectory Street, Epworth, had the distinction of being the last Epworth soldier to be released from captivity in Germany. He had been taken prisoner in April 1918 and for two months had to work behind the lines and live on a very basic diet. Later on he was put to work on farms, wearing suits made from paper and boots made from compressed paper and wood.

At the time, I had known Jedd 5 years. He was my best friend. Perhaps it was strange but I considered him more of a brother to me than my actual sibling. We had a form of familiarity that you only see in movies. A real “Bridge to Terabithia” type of bond, filled with imaginary fairies and dreams of becoming dolphin trainers. He had bleach blonde hair and clear green eyes that reminded me of the Pacific Ocean. He was also side-splittingly funny, in a “ third grade” sort of way. Naturally, I adored him.

To Brendon, it seemed as if every eye in the New Conservative States of America was focused solely on him, despite the only company in the room being four plain walls. He was a cell under a microscope. He was the floor after a fight.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, whose full name is Antoine-Marie-Roger de Saint-Exupéry, was born on June 29, 1900 in Lyon, France (Encyclopædia Britannica). He was an aristocratic French writer, poet, and pioneering aviator. Saint-Exupéry came from a poor aristocratic family and spent his childhood years surrounded by sisters, aunts, cousins, and nurses. He failed the entrance examination to the École Navale, the French naval academy, then enrolled at a prestigious art school, the I’École des Beaux-Arts, to study architecture for several months (Encyclopædia Britannica). At the age of twelve, he flew for the first time at the Ambérieu airfield, it was then

Failyer-22's story begins as a egg. One day a trainer wanted to get a shiny Beedrill by breeding a Ditto and Beedrill. soon as the new egg hatched the trainer left him in the wild. He was given a name before he left it was Failyer-22 he was a Weedle. Failyer-22 information states, often found in forests and grasslands. It has a sharp, toxic barb around 2 inches on the top of his head.

With life comes different inspirations, and yet, I have always been inspired by my father. To me he's more than a dad; he's my guideline. Continuously always influencing me with the humble achievements he continues to make. Of these, the one I am in awe of and most proud of the virtually unheard of achieving the rank of E7, a Gunnery Sergeant of the United States Marine Corps at the age of 26. It is here that I believe my hard work ethic was birthed. This is the derivative of my scholastic work ethic and what helped me believe that making the National Honors Society was possible, an achievement that no one in my family has made.

“I want to be a pilot when I grow up… because it’s a fun job and easy to do. That’s why there are so many pilots flying today. Pilots don’t need much school, they must learn numbers so they can read instruments. Pilots should be brave so that they won’t be scared if it’s foggy and they can’t see, or if a wing or motor falls off they should stay calm so they’ll know what to do. Pilots have to have good eyes to see through clouds and they can’t be afraid of lightning or thunder because they’re closer to them than we are. The salary pilots make is another think I like. They make more money than they can spend. This is because most people think plane flying is dangerous except pilots don’t, because they know how easy it