Golden Gate Bridge-Personal Narrative

At that time, I felt like a rookie sky diver preparing for his first plunge. The cabin door opens to reveal the extreme distance of his fall, which leads to either sheer excitement or eventual death. The naivete that sheltered his fear disappears at the sudden reality of the moment. By then, of course, it is much too late to turn back. The very thought that this was his idea seems absurd to him, and he feels like the only person on the face of the planet. And so he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and

The first memory I have of the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge (the 59th Street Bridge) is from when I was ten-years old. It was early October, barely 8:30 in the morning, and my mom was driving through traffic at 70 mph with the skill of a middle-aged taxi driver. Going about 20 mph over the speed limit, she had been screaming into her phone telling the person at the other end, Fred, that we would be late. That morning I had been extremely late for a test at the Trinity School which would determine my acceptance into a private school. Speeding across the bridge was hectic and slightly terrifying (I had a childhood fear of large bodies of water and the East River was no exception).But somehow, through the window of the car, I had the time to think to myself; You can see everything from up here.

“Anna, after you take me home, where do you go?” I asked her pushing further, hoping she wouldn’t clam up. “Where do you go to wait out what might happen to you?”

The Golden Gate Bridge is the number one suicide site in the world. In this clinical case conference, the authors begin by presenting vignettes to capture the diversity of bridge suicide. They then examine the demo-graphic characteristics of those who commit suicide from the bridge as well as the fatal attraction of the Golden Gate Bridge. Interviews with jump survivors and potential jumpers are presented, and the authors examine the evidence for the efficacy of suicide barriers.

Upon stepping in the boat, they handed us blue ponchos. The floor was metal, with thin, almond-shaped bumps on them, forming many little crosses. There were some rooms where you could watch through the windows and not get wet. Thinking that was pretty boring, I chose staying outside, where blue chairs lined the walls of the rooms inside. I chose a seat on the starboard side, quite close to the metal railings that bordered the walls of the boat. My little sister sat next to me, her smiling face bursting with excitement. I felt a little jerk, and the boat started moving and the thundering falls grew closer. Though I was warned not to stand up, I got excited and rushed out of my seat, eager to see the falls. My hands grabbed the railings as I watched the roaring waters go around in a horseshoe shape. After a while. the sky darkened, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, winds whipped up, and it started pouring. I started to regret staying outside and started slowly making my back to my seat. The boat lurched to the starboard side, and I slid back to the railing. My sister, the only other person nearby, screamed as she jerked forward, her seatbelt stopping her from flying into the water. I slowly got up but the boat lurched to the other side and I went flying forward, my head hitting a chair. Clutching my head, my vision dimmed and I went flying towards the railing again. Horrified, I suddenly realized that I missed the metal bar entirely and was actually hurtling towards the water. On impact, my body instinctively curled into a ball. I fought to reach the surface, but the water from the falls was pushing me down. When my head last broke the surface, I saw many more people in the place where I fell out. They were probably the people from the inside, who saw me tumbling out of the boat. The freezing water made it hard to think and hard to move. After around what I thought was

Smiling is something I do very often and usually when I’m smiling I’m thinking about certain things that make me happy. Things like being in a lab, or when I have on my aunt lab coat. I enjoy being in a hospital being surrounded by others that enjoy what they do like: being a caregiver, a doctor, a friend. I get excited when I walk into a room full of medical instruments or a chemical lab. I like figuring out what chemicals can I mix together to form another chemical compound. Doing chemistry labs make me smile, because I get to be a chemist and create something new.

"You've got to stop, Care. They're going to find out and you're going to be paying the high price for that. Look, you built up a tolerance against it and now you're addicted, you're no better than a pill popper," Peter says making me angry.

The year was 1910 , I just made it to the Golden Door in New York City . There were a tons of people , everywhere I turned I seen Italian , Greek , Slav , Russian , Jewish , East European , and even Armenian people . I then met a Jewish family that helped me get to The Office of the Superintendent of Immigration . Me and the family were approved and admitted after hours of waiting . Then I asked one of the officers where should I go now ? He told me I should head over to “ Ellis Island .” So me and the family followed the crowd of people to the New York Harbor , were we sat and waited for hours to get on the boat . When we abroad the boat , people were pushing and shoving to find a secure spot on the boat . Everything happened so fast that

What makes a student a good student? Typically we may think about a book worm stuck away studying in the dark as the “A+” standard. However, is that really what it takes to prosper in education? I believe that being an educated and intelligent person goes beyond book work and requires oneself to be sociable, confident, accepting, and prepared to face challenges. Recently in my senior year I have learned more about myself, and looking at one event in particular, realized how my ability to break a racial divide has prepared me for life after high school.

A time like Gates father when I should have spoken up, but choose not to, was recently this summer when I was a summer intern at the "H. Carl Moultrie Superior Courthouse" in my hometown of Washington, D.C. I and all my co-workers were downstairs in the mail room and a man who works at the court building came in the office with an attitude. He was supposed to be removing the boxes in the Mail room because they weren't supposed to be in the mail room.When picking up the boxes he said, "you people should be picking up these boxes". Meaning "us" black people should be picking up the boxes and not him because he's caucasian . When the comment was made everybody in the office immediately, got offended one of my male co workers asked him what he

Staring at the enclosed tennis backboard of the graffitied wall, it was my third consecutive morning there and i still didn't know what to make of it. “Hello, Brenda are you there?”, said my friend Miller as he abruptly strike me back to reality, “here its your turn, take a hit. And remember this time hold it in”. I've always felt i had an inner mystical esoteric view on life, suppressed by naive realism. I wanted to answer the great philosophical questions. So i tried marijuana.

Tunnel view can blind anyone too naive to make an attempt to break out of its lies. Focusing on what was just in front of me made it easier and at times although I hate to admit it, it made it enjoyable. It's like I never processed what was going on outside that tunnel of laughter. The tunnel of me being with my friends, staying up late, and doing anything but put my mind at rest. While this might seem to be about me having regretful nights in which I undermined my parents it is not. To be honest that probably would have made it a whole lot easier than the truth. The real story is about my grandma being diagnosed with cancer and while everyone seemed to have lived a different life during it this is my perspective.

Thoughts of drowning run rampant in every man’s mind on that boat. At dawn, the men decided that their only chance is to row toward the distant shore again and swim when the boat finally capsizes.

It was an eye opener to me as well! I never knew so many people used the Golden Gate bridge to escape their fears/problems. I wonder if the reason that they do seek out this bridge is because of how beautiful it is? Maybe it symbolizes how beautiful they wish their life was? Or how beautiful they once envisioned themselves? Or just maybe they wish to have their last vision of life, a one where you can see the sunset rising over the beautiful water? I believe that everyone has their different reasons for committing suicide whether they believe it is justified or not.

You breathe a deep breath of relief. "Oh that's great, if there's no side effects. I'll just continue using them. Thank you for taking your time to answer my question madam. I gotta go, you take care." You wave your hand goodbye, as you walk away from the old