Nationals This weekend I was down in Louisville, Kentucky for archery. While I was in Kentucky we decided that It was not just going to be about archery, but yet to have a boisterous amount of joy whether the days were hot and the nights were crisp. All of us went to the Kentucky Derby and explored bundles of horses, consequently the stench of sweat, manure and humidity had myself hacking up a storm while my nose burned and notwithstanding the extraordinarily high temperatures as well as I had thought . Then, while we were walking around Louisville we went souvenir shopping, I honestly believe we had gone to every little shop there was; my feet were so sore it felt identical to walking on nails, I reckon the saying is true “Shop till you
drop”. Once Saturday came, the biggest day of the year; I felt as if I was out of the ordinary, beings I would be around tons of other people I do not know that strongly, yet at the same time I was thinking that I could have the opportunity to meet new friends and at that point I was driven to rethink to myself, my mom tells me all that time during competitions, that I don’t need to be so tough on myself and just have fun, so I did just that. After I had shot, I had felt as if 5 tons of weights were lifted off my shoulders. Ordinary Sunday was here, and it was time to drive home. On our way home, I received this text from our coach, it reads “ You champs did voluminous I stand by my word where the team says we're all proud”. I was so captivated to hear that it was like the highlight of my day when I received another text from my coach saying “you guys were only 3 points away from World”. I felt so excited I nearly fell out of my seat. When next year comes I know that it will be just as fun or more valuable, as I learned to just let loose.
Dr. James and Freda Klotter are both noted educators in the state of Kentucky. Dr. Klotter is the Kentucky state historian and professor of history at Georgetown College while his wife is an educational consultant with the Kentucky Collaborative for Teaching and Learning, with many years of experience in the classroom. They outline major influences and developments of the frontier to statehood, Civil War, post-Civil War, and modern times. Throughout the book, anecdotes of the lives of well-known and anonymous Kentuckians to shed light on economic, social, and cultural subjects. A Concise History of Kentucky will be useful to many readers wishing to learn more about the state.
Stories of Scottsboro. By James E. Goodman. (New York: Vintage Books. c.1994. pp. 274. $16.00)
The Mohawk sweat lodge that I attended on Thanksgiving last October is an experience I will not soon forget. It was an interesting blend of people coming together to share in a sacred experience for the spiritual healing of a friend. My friend is Mohawk and he gathered his five closest friends to join him; all of us Caucasians, the shaman/medicine man, the shaman’s wife (a medicine woman in here own right), the fire keeper and the woman in Hudson who graciously allowed us to use her land for this occasion. Names have purposely been omitted for the sake of anonymity as the type of sweat was one of personal healing and not a general sweat.
At the end of my junior year of high school I was told that I was chosen, along with one other junior boy, to be a primary delegate to attend Badger Boys State, a week long youth program at Ripon College in Ripon, Wisconsin that brings more than eight hundred and fifty boys together to learn about leadership and the United States Government. Although only one week of my life, I can confidently say that Badger Boys State is one of the best and most significant experiences I have ever had.
Kentucky could just be the best place between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans to live. From "Happy Birthday" to Abraham Lincoln, Kentucky has made a great contribution to history. Being the 15th state to join the Union in 1792, Kentucky has brought forth a number of important people and aspects to the United States.
It all began one day when I was six years old. My dad and I were playing catch at my grandparents house in the yard. I decided that I wanted to pitch so I told my dad to crouch down like a catcher. As I began to pitch I would try to imitate my favorite pitcher at the time, Cardinal starter, Chris Carpenter. My grandpa would sit in a chair by the window and watch me throw. After throwing a few pitches my grandpa decided that he wanted to come outside. With his walker, he made his slow walk outside to get a closer look at me. “I think we’ve got something here” he said to my dad as I continued to pitch. From that moment on, I always wanted to pitch in front of him just to listen to what he would have to say about me.
The idea behind the Iowa Narrative project was to bring light to an unknown narrative that was connected to Iowa City in some way. My group decided to bring light to the Black Angel statue. We knew that the legend behind this statue was know around campus and that it was a legend many people believed in. Our purpose for shinning light on this legend was to persuade people to see that the myth may not be true. I feel like we accomplished this by setting our goal, setting the mood, logos, and using induction to gain credibility.
There are very few things in life I enjoy quite as much as fall. love that it is no longer a million degrees… but the thing that I love the absolute most on the stinkin’ planet is THE TEXAS RENAISSANCE FESTIVAL.
I was in Ohio when I first came to America as an Chinese exchange student, I live in a little town surrounded by endless corn fields, basically in the middle of nowhere. I went to a small public high school, which has only 2 Chinese students, including me. All of a sudden my world is completely changed, nothing from my old days is left, and I’m totally not ready for that. I got so homesick, I began to miss everything about China, people, food, and of course, language. That’s probably the reason why I was so eager to speak Chinese every time I meet the other Chinese girl.
Hi I'm Andrew and these are the story's that have happen in my life. My family including my Dad would help me get better at what I like even when I wanted to quit he pushed me though it
It was a warm September day, perfect for baseball. I had eagerly woken up, gotten dressed and set off for my first practice as a member of the Superfund Wanderers, a new team I had joined that year. As I walked onto the field, I knew this practice would be unlike any I had experienced before. The first person I met introduced himself as Matthias. He had long, blonde hair that fell past his shoulders and ill-fitting pants that seemed three sizes too small. The glove he used was cheap and plastic, better suited to a tee-ball player half his age. He didn’t even have baseball spikes on, instead opting for soccer cleats. Looking around the field, a dozen kids fit the same mold. They were passionately discussing the latest soccer scores, yelling
I wasn’t always custom to the whirling seas of corn fields. Nor would I ever thought that I would be living in a location where there were less than 3,000 people. Moving from Nashville, Tennessee to small-town Fort Branch, Indiana is quite a jump; more like a leap of faith. It’s definitely a different scenery, but yet, still just as beautiful. And now I live in the middle of a corn field.
I will never forget the moment I got introduced to baseball. I was 6 years old when I told my mom I wanted to play baseball. We were at my Grandmother’s house for dinner, I was in the backyard throwing a baseball with my cousin. As I was throwing the ball my uncle noticed I had a pretty strong arm. My uncle said ‘’You need to be on a baseball team with that strong arm’’. I kept throwing with my cousin until it was time to eat about 20 minutes later.
Every muscles springs to life with every step taken that’s followed by a faint squeak echoing underneath my Adidas J Wall 1. Every step feels like dead weight that’s stuck in time while images wash across my brain over the tears shed last year and the hype of Kentucky’s unimaginable season up to now. Lights illuminate the hallway packed with every member that represents UW-Madison, but the only noise that’s expressed can be heard is the roar from the inside of Lucas Oil Stadium. Thousands of die-hard fans fill the entire room, yet they only appear like a sea of colors while patiently waiting for the announcer to begin. My mind draws a blank before rising slowly to make my way onto the freshly waxed hardwood floor.
The weather was cloudy, not long after I sat down and read a few pages, it drizzled so I packed my stuff and put on my rain coat. As I walked along the pathway, my canvas shoes were completely drenched in rain. It doesn’t feel comfortable soaking my feet in the cold weather, it brought my memories back to Mount Buller in Melbourne which was snowing at that time and I went without water-proofing shoes, my feet were freezing in 2°C. To divert my focus, I played the