Personal Narrative: Driving Up To Portland

I come from the small town of Caribou, Maine. “Why so far north?” You might ask. Well, my father took a job as meteorologist for NOAA in Caribou following his retirement from the Air Force after 20 years of service. I moved to Maine in August of 2008, exactly 9 years ago; however, Maine is the 4th location I’ve lived in after Virginia (my birthplace), Alabama, and North Carolina.

Leaving my home in Hawaii and moving to Oregon was one of the hardest things for me to do. Maybe I would have felt better about it if my parents had asked me for my opinion before picking up our lives and moving to some place I had never even heard of before. I know I shouldn’t have cared that much. After all, I was only a 1st grader and even now my parents don’t consider how I’d feel before making decisions, so why would they then? At the end of 2007, I said goodbye to my best friends for the last time and left for Oregon.

It had finally arrived. Moving day. I was finally leaving my home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania after five short years and a sort of gloom lingered in the air. Although many teenagers would be excited to reunite with their family, friends, and childhood home, I, however, was frightened of the future. I woke up that morning and just laid there and listened to the sound of the rain pittering against the roof and windows, pattering against the surrounding forest in which I shared many memories. After what felt like centuries of just listening and reflecting, I got up and looked out the window. I looked at my neighbor's house across the field of grass which separated our houses and at the kids who had become like my siblings. I looked at the ice

During the week in Chicago, I grew closer to God, learned how to be a better leader, and learned to put others before myself, which is what helped me become a better person. Serving others that had situations worse than I could imagine was life changing. The idea I could make such a tremendous change in someone’s life while doing activities I enjoyed, opened my eyes to the potentials of serving. After the week ended and I returned home, I wanted to do more for the people around me who were less fortunate. Going into freshman year, I made the decision to volunteer at Urban Vision. I help kids who have newly immigrated to Akron and the United States find items at a holiday shop for their families and themselves. Many of these kids went directly to the necessity aisle, (i.e. toilet paper, laundry detergent, and soaps) to get these items for their families, even though there were plenty of toys for the kids themselves. These kids helped me realize I should be grateful for everything in life, from shelter over my head to the clothes on my

It was April of 1999. My family was at home. Children were running outside. The asphalt was burning. Cars rolled up to the entrance of the apartments and BANG. I grew up in Stockton, California. Surprisingly, as a minority, I wasn’t really a minority. There were, in fact, a large and diverse population of Asian-Americans. But, Stockton is not the ideal place to live. It was hot and dry, almost to the point of a drought. Stockton was also ranked as the one of the top 5 most dangerous cities in California. So, having a nice and safe family is kind of difficult. Eventually, my family decided to move to Crescent City, California when my dad retired. It was a world of difference. There were trees, plentiful water, and a nice cool temperature. This

As a teen, I had the opportunity to volunteer on a summer mission trip that focused on serving the homeless population in San Francisco. Stricken by poverty and drug addictions the Tenderloin District was unlike anything I had ever seen. Instead of passing judgment or feeling intimidated, I chose to serve these people with compassion and respect. What I experienced during this time was transformational and helped to direct me on a pathway towards service.

Me and my family decided to move to Oregon all the way from New England I decided to keep a journal for the adventure we have to pack before we leave though my 18 year old son Bernard told us to bring his xylophone and I Charles Marvin Ives wanted to bring an anvil in case I need to fix or make anything with metal or use our spare parts we brought even though I have no experience as a blacksmith because I'm a farmer. My wife Samantha Packed the bacon, salt, and whiskey and we all had to lift the water keg. I decided to bring my shovels and hammer and some salt for the bacon. We're bringing pots and other cooking utensils as well. My oldest son, Carl who's 20 years old thought it was a good idea to bring a plow. We will also need some firewood

I find myself looking over my shoulder every time I step outside my front door. Violence has opened my eyes and destroyed my dreams of peace. When I first moved to Philadelphia from Puerto Rico, I moved into a neighborhood that was full of gangs and drugs. Philadelphia represented a new start, a chance for me to breathe again. I had experienced a tragic shooting right before my ten year old eyes in Puerto Rico; my mom’s best friend was killed, while the murderer calmly walked away. We escaped to Philadelphia, and I thought my days of witnessing horrific violence were over. However, my dreams were shattered like gunshots in the night. One day, while I was napping, I was awoken by a series of deafening pops. As soon as I heard them, I dropped

My names Linn and i’m 24 years old, this morning my husband gave me some horrible and good news. The bad news is that our family is going on the Oregon trail and that means we're leaving Illinois, where I grew up my whole life and our family dog, but the good news he said about going on the Oregon trail is that when we get to our destination we're gonna have a lot more farm land. Today we're gonna try and find a wagon. We went to our friends house to see if the have a wagon we can use and it happens that the do it's a Prairie Schooner and they gave it to us for a lower price than what they wanted it for. We hooked our horse up to the wagon and we were on our way back home. When we got home, we automatically started to pack. My husband James, who is 25 years old

Riding along the Oregon Trail can be treacherous, risky, and at times perilous. Some aspects that make it so dangerous are: hunger, disease, suicide, a broken wagon, falling out of the wagon and getting run over by the wheels, Indians attacking, and … storms. Believe it or not , storms cause substantial amounts of trouble. I am fortunate enough to say, I, Dahlia Clark, lived to tell about it.

For the past two years I have dedicated one Wednesday a month to going to Ronald McDonald House. While there, my peers and I would cook and serve a dinner for the families staying in the House. I loved the way it felt to give back to these families that had been going though such hard times with their children, so I decided to

Driving up to Cooperstown through the gates, I was excited to see the variety of different license plates. Nevada, Texas, North and South Carolina, New York, Tennessee, Ohio, Virginia and many more filled up the parking lots. While driving through and getting directed to my barrack I saw tons and tons of kids. After settling in, my team and I walked around in awe listening to boys from other parts of the country talking. Most of the time I would laugh to myself because of the accents the southerners had. When it came to playing, the moment I stepped onto the field I felt like I was a professional. The grass so cleanly cut and the dirt so perfectly grated. The sun beating on my neck and the beautiful summer breeze made perfect baseball weather.

Another meaningful experience that sticks out to me is when I regularly volunteered at a children’s homeless shelter in Roxbury, Mass. for two years, and was reminded of the fact that the statistics we hear every day about homelessness are real people – not just numbers. Every child I played alongside,

I don't remember how I met you in 1st grade, but I do remember when you used to be taller than me and had braces. I remember asking you what a period (menstrual) was, and the days when we talked about relationships—I mean we still do, haha. I remember going to the Sacramento field trip with you in 4th grade, when we carpooled to the airport at five in the morning and how you were there when I experienced my first time on a plane. I remember seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows together and then getting In-N-Out afterwards. I remember when we both did Beginner and Advanced Strings in 5th grade. I remember having the same cabin as you at 6th grade camp. Going to the Big Bear trip with Ben, Bob and Josh last year and being there when I

James has decided that he is sick of not having enough farmland and that we will start moving our family west to Oregon. We have been farming so close to people, they have basically been on our property. He heard that when we go to Oregon we get 640 acres of land when we start our new life, as long as we have a house built and farming started after a year of being there. After one short year of Matthew getting to know his grandparents and Hope only for three, we are sorrowfully saying that we will never be able to live with them again. My in-laws, James’ parents, already traveled and have sent back letters saying that their wagon train had a mass of hardships along the way, but that Oregon is beautiful and it is really spacious for farming.