Personal Narrative: Remembering The Fallen Heroes

Remembering the Fallen Heroes The venue was packed, standing room only, but the mood was solemn. Unfamiliar faces fill the cluster of people within the room, some contempt and others eyes filled with tears. Towards the front of the room people crowded over the tables full of goods, which were being raffled to raise money. Other people were making conversation as the music played in the background. Scanning over the room, the beautiful layout and decorations caught my eye. Over fifty tables filled the room, but there were thirteen designated tables within the room where a rose lay on each. Red, white, and blue flowers were thoughtfully used to fill the centerpieces of the tables. As we made our way through the cluster of people my parents ran into some old friends and began to talk. Even though neither me nor my brother had any idea who they were, we both politely introduced ourselves. Coming back to Lawrence, where both my parents grew up as children, meant we always ran into new people who our parents

The words that I had been nervously awaiting were finally spoken from the mayor standing at the podium. “Here today to read an essay she wrote honoring America’s veterans is Peyton Nickerson.” I once again stood up out of my seat and prayed I would not fall in front of the hundreds of friends and family in attendance. As I walked up the two steps onto the stage I tried to not think about all of the eyes directly on me. I looked out into the crowd and realized I could do it. Word after word I read my essay with the same passion I had when I first wrote it. As I read, I tried my best to speak loud and clearly, but once or twice I stumbled on a word. The final word of my essay came out of my mouth and still looking at my paper, I could hear clapping. The crowd who had all once been staring at me, was now all risen to their feet and giving me a round of