The Story of My Life: MFSC 2, The Scream Heard Around Camp

Day 2 came with a early and rude awakening after a rough first night of sleep. I get we were here to participate at camp and follow the program, but getting up before 8am in the summer was painful. The only light through the gloom was that I had a fully cooked breakfast waiting for me in the cafeteria...but Tim B decided to put the brakes on that locomotive. Having had the worst room the day before, he was making sure history wouldn't repeat itself. 

The process began with making the beds to look like the day we first walked in. Then all the clothes lying around were put in an orderly manner. Any trash was put in the waste basket. All towels were hung, all water was cleaned up, and everything was in proper order. We felt pretty good about our chances as we finally headed to breakfast. We wouldn't know the end results until around dinner time.

After breakfast came a Take Five. These actually happened directly after every meal. They were up to fifteen minutes long, but were meant for everyone to find a secluded spot all to themselves and be quiet for at least 5 minutes. There were various intentions for this time, but the most simple was to be able to spend 5 minutes of calm and quiet to yourself in a jam-packed day. I'll admit that my first go around with the take fives was not anything as they were intended to be, but later I would find great value in them.

I mentioned group time previously, but I didn't mention anything about my group. It consisted of a group leader, a couple of assistant group leaders, and the rest were jr high kids, myself included. My Dad was assigned to my group as the main leader. The co-group leaders were Mark M and Isaac M (no relation). There were three other kids in my group who were Sam K, Vincent K, and another kid whose name escapes me. Having my Dad as the group leader eased my ever present anxiety during the week. But I want to talk a bit about Isaac M. This was the first time I had met him as he was from Michigan. He was pretty good friends with both Tim C and Mark M. Once I met him, I instantly thought he was one of the cool kids. He had the looks, personality, and a big smile that made him a very likeable dude. What fascinated me the most was that someone like him was willing to give up a week of his summer to serve jr. high kids. All of those things made me appreciate someone like him even more.

After a really good morning session, the afternoon activity had us back in the gym. It was set up for a large game of Knockout and two courts for volleyball. I quickly gravitated towards the ever growing knockout line. I wasn't long before we had intense games going. There were so many kids who wanted to play that we had to form two lines on both hoops. Once again it was mixed with jr high, high school, college, and even some post-college adults. 

There was so much chaos that you had to have the utmost concentration to win a game. And that was something I wanted more than anything. To be able to say I was the last one standing vs my peers and those greater than I. I took shot after shot. I ran all over that court like a crazed maniac. Game after game I fought for that W. But it was repeat after repeat. A missed shot followed by a swish. The clang of my desperation throws missing over and over. I became so drenched is sweat I could've splashed in a small puddle.

I was getting tired, but in the next game I made the top 5. I was oh so close to sweet victory that I could taste it. The desire and drive in me overcame my fatigue. I stepped in line for one more shot. The first shots were taken and we were off. Each time I got the ball in my hands, I made every shot count. Aggression was the key to my success. If the person in front of me missed their shot, they had to react quick because I was in the zone. My confidence grew when an older kid missed his shot and I sunk mine. Before I knew it, I found myself in the final 3. It was me, another jr high kid, and a college serving one by the name of Johnny H. We all slowed down to catch our breath. The other kid was up first. He missed his shot. I quickly fired mine, but I too missed. I managed to retrieve my rebound and lay it up off the glass before the other kid's ball hit the rim. I hustled back in line. It was now David vs Goliath. Johnny H took his shot and he made it. Then I made mine before he got back to the line to take another. Back and forth we went. Neither being able to knock out the other. Then a loud CLANG was heard as Johnny H missed was a seemingly easy shot. I didn't hesitate and heaved a desperation free-throw. I ran forward to grab the re-bound, but there was none. My ball hit the square and fell through the net. KNOCK OUT! I celebrated in pure ecstasy. Not only had I finally won, but I beat someone much older and better than me to do so. After that, nothing was going to ruin my day.

I want to pause this memory for a moment and reflect on a valuable life lesson here. It wasn't until years later, when I found myself at this very camp and in this very situation, but with the roles reversed, where I was now the older college kid taking on the last remaining jr high kid in the knockout line, that it hit me like a ton of bricks. Johnny H let me win that game. There were shots he took that he should've easily made, but it was clear to me now that he purposely missed them. Was I upset when I had this realization? Nope. Did it take away from that valuable moment in my life? Not in the slightest. I still had to earn my way into that top 2. To face the best of the best. And I still had to make the winning shot. But the lesson there wasn't about winning or losing and doing so to the best of one's ability. It was a matter of taking care of someone else. Someone like me who hardly played organized sports. Who very rarely got the taste of victory in front of a crowd. And anxiety-riddled jr high kid who felt like he achieved the impossible. And for a long time, Johnny H's act of kindness carried on in me for years to come. So when that young kid in front of me was playing his heart out to beat "the big kid", it became my turn to miss my shot. And when that kid made the winning basket, he felt the pure joy I had all those years ago. I small, humbling act of kindness can do wonders in someone's life. And I experienced both sides of that coin.

Un-pause. Knockout would not be the only exciting activity that day. The evening one was one I was looking forward to since I saw the schedule. A night swim. The boys were doing this one solo while the girls would get their turn the next night. Never before in my life had I been able to swim in a large pool well after the sun went down. We were out in the middle of nowhere where we could be as rambunctious and loud as we wanted. Just walking to the pool's edge and I was in awe. Heated, lit so you could see what you were doing, a volleyball net across the shallow end and a basketball hoop on the side. I was in kid heaven.

What made the experience special was not simply the fact that it was a night swim. It was the fact that all the boys were able to have an incredible bonding moment. While the first 15 minutes or so were spent getting used to the water and the feel of the space, the rest of the night was organized chaos. We organized volleyball teams that were competitive to a fault, but allowed younger kids to have their moments to shine. When someone got a nasty spike,  they roared like a gorilla defending it's territory which was followed by playful shoves, high-fives, and a ton of splashing. When we tired of that, we had a slam-dunk contest, where we got louder and louder with each epic dunk. Once the dunk king was crowned, we finished the night off with the human cannon. The college-aged serving ones would form a small circle in four feet of water. Then one by one, the jr. high would swim to the inner circle and place their feet on the serving ones' hands. Then the kid would get into cannonball form and the serving ones would bob up and down while counting down from three. After they got to one, the kid was launched as far as they could be thrown into the deep end. Yes I did take that ride and let's just say I made a splash.

About the time the clock struck 10PM, it was time to return to our building to wind down and soon drift off to sleep. Thinking that would happen so smoothly was wishful thinking at best. After a full day of fun and being able to stay up later than normal, the last thing a kid wants to do is go to bed. But the serving ones did a good job and eventually got everyone in their rooms for the night...

---knock knock knock. I thought I was dreaming, but having realized I was being awoken at 1AM to the sound of actual door knocks, I didn't dare leave my bed. Tim B had woken up and went to see who was at the door. It turned out to be Jeff B, one of the main camp coordinators for the week. I faked being asleep while he talked to Tim. Apparently, someone was roaming outside of the building tapping on the first floor windows with lights on trying to scare the girls. Jeff asked Tim to go help him search for the culprit. They both grabbed flashlights and disappeared down the hall. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Just as I was drifting off, I heard an ear-splitting scream. Then another. Then a lot of screams coming from downstairs. Now wide awake, I jumped out of bed, ran out of the room, and made my way to the railing. There in the middle of the main floor was most of the girls all in one big cluster. Many of the other boys who had woken up joined me on the railing. No one had any idea what was going on. Jeff B came back in and calmed everyone down then asked everyone to return to their rooms and go back to bed. That's it? I thought. No explanation? Since my parents were staying in the motel section, I wanted to make sure they were okay. I had a small cut on my foot that was fine, but it did look like it could use some attention. So I asked Jeff to take me over to the motel. Surprisingly he did. We woke my dad up and he got me a band-aid from their supply. Seeing that they were all good and my toe was bandaged, I told Jeff we could go back. We walked back through the dark to the sounds of the night critters and I returned to a quiet building with everyone back in their rooms. I crawled into bed and finally fell back asleep.

The next morning during breakfast, I approached Jeff B and asked him what last night was about. He said they weren't sure who, but a girl complained about tapping on her window and thought she saw something wandering outside. Word was brought to Jeff and he recruited Tim B to go check it out. Word had spread amongst the girls who were awake that there was a prowler on the loose. Some were noticing flashlights and went to the windows to see if they could see who it was. In reality, it was Jeff and Tim searching for the mysterious tapper. But some of the girls did not know that and Jeff didn't want to scare them so in the moment, he held the flashlight up to his face so they could see it was him when they looked out the windows. Unfortunately, the light cast shadows over his face, making him look terrifying. Some girls thought he was the tapper and ran out of their room screaming causing others to follow suit. Jeff did end up chuckling about it even though it was a long night for him. There were other groups not associated with us utilizing other parts of the camp for the week. Jeff had his suspicions that it was someone from one of those groups trying to pull a prank, but the culprit was never caught so that is one mystery that won't be solved.

With that I conclude part two of this JHC recap. I have one more part to tell as it contains a crucial change in my life as well as other memories that mattered. Until next time.

The Story of My Life: My First Summer Camp Part 1

Summer camp was something every kid new about. Depending on what type of kid you were, you either always wanted to go or you dreaded going. I was in the group that wanted to go. But it wasn't really for the basic reasons of summer camp. Because my view of what those were like came from all kinds of 90s cartoons, PBS kids shows, TV shows, and movies that depicted how epic they were supposed to be. They made camp counselors look goofy and that kids had more free reign than they did at home. The epic competitions, prank wars, and doing all sorts of crazy stuff late into a summer night was the stuff of dreams.

But we all know that TV tends to exaggerate things and summer camps were not cheap endeavors. Plus none of my friends went to summer camp so it wasn't something that was in the cards for me. But in the summer of 2004, now living in Cleveland, OH, opportunity arose. It turns out that the church group out here ran a multitude of summer events for the youth and one of them was called Jr. High Family Camp. It was a week long Christian youth camp that focused on kids in Jr. High (5th-8th grade), but was open to families as well. And who were the counselor's? Any high schooler, college student, or adult who so desired to give their time and heart to serve. The big kicker? It was located in a remote area of Pennsylvania. The town was called Laurelville and it was almost halfway between Cleveland and Abbottstown, PA.

All the young people I had met through church were going and my family thought it would be a good idea to get involved. So while my three younger brothers were not old enough to be full participants, the camp was open to families so everyone, my parents included, made the journey. A three hour drive later I found myself in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by trees. Then buildings appeared. Some that appeared to be old and some on the modern side. I wondered which ones would house us. The camp itself was huge.

First stop was check-in. We let the leaders know we had arrived and we received our room assignments. While there were more rustic, camping style options, the organizers went for the more luxurious options. We exited the check-in and drove up a back hill where we found ourselves in front of a small motel and a lodge. The lodge had two floors with plenty of rooms on each floor. The rooms were hotel style with big comfy beds, a full bathroom in each room, and an AC unit, but no TV. The motel was the same, but it was like a standard motel where it was a one floor building and each door led to a room. The families were put in the motel and all the campers and their group leaders were put in the lodge. All the boys were put in the second floor rooms and all the girls were put in the first floor rooms. Strict rules were put in play where if the boys entered the lodge, they were only allowed to go up to the second floor and not linger on the first. The girls were not allowed on the second floor for any reason. Violators were warned there would be repercussions if those rules were broken. This arrangement would bring about a very interesting turn of events later in the week.

The only scheduled thing for the first night was the welcome meeting where we were given our packets and supplies needed for the week, the schedule layout, the rules and regulations, and all other necessary information. The general schedule for each day was as follows: Breakfast, group time, large meeting, lunch, afternoon activities, group time, dinner, break, group time, large meeting, evening activity, lights out. The last day's schedule would be different as it would contain two big events known as the talent show and the grand finale called the Bible Bowl. More on those later. One other note is that all the events throughout the week earned points towards the Bible Bowl. That included having the cleanest rooms, verse memorization, and not losing your belongings. 

But with reward also came consequence for failing the standard. Another aspect to this camp was to teach people how to be responsible human beings. Having a clean room and not letting it look like a pig-sty was one of those life lessons. During one of the activity times, room inspectors would do an inspection of the rooms, take notes, and report back to the leaders. Room inspection announcements normally came at dinner so the inspectors could make sure the room looked tidy throughout the whole day. Some rooms were spotless by lunch, but after the afternoon activities, they became a disaster. Being a camp rookie, I didn't think our room was that bad. Turns out I was dead wrong. Our room was announced as the worst room that night. We got nailed for sloppy beds, towels on the bathroom floor, clothes in places they didn't belong, water on the bathroom floor, etc. Our one saving grace was that it was the first day. First day offenders got a warning so they would know what the standard was. There was no mercy for second failure. When we returned to the room, we had to see the other rooms that got high marks. It was apparent why ours was the worst. Our serving one who was in the room, Tim B, apologized and said he knew better having been a junior high camp veteran. That "worst room" label put a competitive jolt in him as he said we were going to have the best room at some point this week. I was determined to see that happen.

Before I go on, I have to talk about Tim B for a minute. I got to know him a bit over the past year living in Cleveland. He gave me a lot of grief for the Pittsburgh Steelers shirts I wore (rightly so as I was an Eagles fan in Browns territory), like to make very bad dad jokes, and loved playing basketball with the young people. But this camp was where I'd really get to know him more. I discovered that he had to take a week off work to serve a bunch of rowdy junior high kids. I learned that he found joy in seeing joy on the kid's faces and would do things to make it happen. He deeply loved the Lord and desired the kids he was with to find that same love. To him, it was worth giving up vacation time for. I will share some of the moments that inspired me as we go on in this tale.

For the first big afternoon activity, we all went to the on-site gym the camp had. When we arrived, there were dodgeballs all lined up in the center of the floor. Then the obvious was announced that we would indeed be playing dodgeball. And when they announced it was going to be boys vs girls, the boys let out a loud roar while some of the girls did not look to enthused. To start it was jr. high vs jr high only. The two sides lined up on either end and when the siren blared, it was off to the races. Chaos ensued in blazing speed. One minute I was charging the line and the moment I blinked, a ball nearly took off my head. The rest of that game was a blur. But I do remember the slow build-up to a full scale onslaught. The teams changed from Jr. High and HS girls vs Jr. High boys. Then the HS boys were added. Followed by any college girls that wanted to join. By then if your senses weren't honed in, you were going to taste rubber. I witnessed some kids take some heavy blows. After a few tears and some comforting, they eventually re-entered the chaos. The play of the day came from the girl's side. A HS boy was targeting a specific HS girl. He unleashed a throw so hard that when it connected it knocked her down. But instead of having to leave the field, she hung on and caught the ball, not only eliminating the HS boy, but getting one of her eliminated teammates back with that spectacular catch. Everyone in the building went nuts. The play was so iconic that it was talked about the entire week.

After about an hour or so, they announced the split of activities. The girls were off to the pool and the boys were going to stick around in the gym for more dodgeball punishment. Here's where things went crazy. The older boy serving ones who weren't allowed to play when it was boys vs girls were now allowed to enter the battlefield. It was like unleashing powerful cannons that were hidden until the final salvo. One person in particular, Johnny P, had a deadly throw that was both risky and effective. He would load a ball into one hand, turn his back towards the firing line, then do a full 180 and unleashed the ball in a direction that could not be predicted. If it connected, you were in a world of hurt, but he also turned his back on enemy fire, so it could turn into an easy KO. One loose cannon of a throw ended up causing a casualty to someone not in play. One team was losing pretty bad. As more people got out, the longer the line that was waiting for a caught ball became. As the line got longer, people slowly shifted out of it to see the action. It wasn't long before the back end of the line curved into the field of play. Johnny wound up one of his no-look throws and fired it at full strength. The ball took a direction of its own out of his hand and scored a direct hit to the face of an unsuspecting jr. high kid in the "out" line, but standing in the field of play. Game action was suddenly halted as aid was rushed to the poor kid. After a few minutes, the kid had his marbles back in place and was helped to the restroom to clear up his sore face. The onslaught resumed shortly after. We dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged for another hour before it was our turn to cool off in pool.

The rest of that first day was a combination of excitement, relaxation, and getting a deeper understanding of God's word. The group time I mentioned previously happened after multiple times a day and usually consisted of going over a section in the Bible to find the facts. For a jr high kid, those times would only be as good as what I was willing to put in. If I got bored or distracted, I gained nothing. But if I paid attention and my curiosity got the better of me, I would actually learn something I didn't know before or gain something about life that was useful. The nice thing about the small group time after dinner was that it was always a "get to know your group" time. Lots of interesting ice breaker questions. I found that one so much fun because the social side of me was more than happy to share the parts and quirks that made me tick. 

The day would eventually wind down for an altogether group time with singing and a message from the Bible. In a way, I found these messages more fascinating than a typical Sunday morning message because these were given by mostly college kids who would sometimes perform mini skits to better portray the story they were sharing about. The messages combined with the massive group singing was an uplifting way to nearly close out a long day.

The last thing each night was always a different activity. For the first night, the boys returned to the dodgeball arena but this time to play a different game. The dodgeballs were traded for basketballs and it was last man standing in a fiercely competitive game of Knockout. For those unfamiliar with this game, everyone forms a single-file line from the foul line on the basketball court going straight back to the wall. The first two people in line each have a basketball. As soon as the first person shoots, the second person shoots. If the first person scores, they pass the ball to the next person in line and go to the end. If the second person scores before the first person, the first person is out and the second person goes to the end of the line. This pattern continues until one person outlasts everyone else. Seeing as there were over 40 people involved, the games got intense and there was a lot of cheering, laughing, and the occasional light jest when someone got knocked out. I wanted so badly to win one, but that night wasn't my night. But I did get to experience something I really hadn't before. That was the joy of being able to play large games with a large group of kids. As I was homeschooled most of my life up until this point, I lacked a lot of that type of experience. And I was loving every moment of it.

Stayed tuned as I continue this journey through my first summer camp, as I have more exciting and life altering stories to tell, more people of my life to introduce you to, and more memories to explore. This was only the beginning.

Short Lived, But Memories Remain. Goodbye 2023

When looking back on all the different years I've traversed in life and wondering if I were to rank them, how 2023 would fare. It would certainly not be near the bottom. It does have great arguments to be in consideration for the top ten and maybe even top five. But rankings aside, 2023 does have one thing that will forever be marked in my memory. And that is for the first time in three years, it felt like a normal year. By that I mean the thoughts and threats of Covid did not plague my mind. Many days I went about as if it didn't happen. Don't get me wrong, the aftershocks, repercussions, and the way our world has changed because of it are still there and still apparent. Which goes the same for every major human calamity. But 2023 was truly the first year for me since 2020 that Covid was an afterthought. In celebration of that, I wanted to close it out with a recap of life highlights that 2023 brought. 

January is usually a coin toss for excitement. Some years, a key life moment happens and others it feels like a short hibernation. Well something happened this year that was 10 years in the making. I wrote two letters to myself in 2013. One from my 2013 self to my 2023 self, and one from the perspective of my 2023 self to my 2013 self. I never thought an experiment like that would last that long. There were definitely times when I needed to hear good things that I wanted to rip that letter open and comfort myself. But I held off. When January 1st, 2023 rolled in, I opened that 10 year old envelope and read it live on Facebook. That proved to be a wonderful experiment to see how my life was and what it became. To see some of my dreams from 10 years ago come true and the encouragement I gave myself really come in clutch. A long project that was totally worth it.

I've mentioned numerous times on this blog before about the hobby of geocaching. What I don't always mention is the community it creates. This game literally takes people from different walks of life and unites them in a way that standard norms wouldn't. We're a pretty tight knit bunch that always has room for more. An exceptional part of this hobby is the social aspect it creates. Every year there are local events and national events that draw geocachers to socialize, discuss geocaching, and to simply enjoy life a bit more. There are a handful of monthly events in Northeast Ohio, but this year, we decided to do something a bit more extravagant. We kept those monthly events, but decided to do one event every week for the year and call it 52 Card Pickup. Each event awarded you with on playing card from the 52 card deck. Those cards will be used to create whatever poker hands you can make at the end of the year to get chances to earn some cool prizes. It was a crazy idea as we needed enough people to host 52 events and there was the thought that who would be willing to attend that many events each month and the whole year? Geocachers that's who. The host list filled up super quick and the locations were spread out all over Northeast Ohio. To watch this crazy plan unfold throughout the year was going to be a real treat.

Being part of this community also lead to a unique opportunity. Since geocaches are hidden all over the world and are meant to bring you to new places you haven't been, geocachers tend to travel far and wide. One member of our community, George Markusic, likes to plan and go on multiple trips throughout the year. He opens them up to whomever can make the time and expense to go. I pulled the trigger on my first one this March. The trip was planned for the E.T. highway out in Western Nevada. The E.T. highway is Nevada's state route 375 that runs from Las Vegas to Tonopah and runs near Area 51. It's two lanes through miles of desert, open range, and mountain formations. Our purpose for going was the first power trail in geocaching history was placed there. A power trail is hundreds to thousands of caches placed the minimum distance apart allowed by the geocaching organization. So if you enjoy finding a lot of geocaches in a shorter amount of time than normal and want to boost your finds, that's what this is for. Nine of us flew from Cleveland to Las Vegas. We then acquired rental cars and drove to the starting point of the E.T. Highway. It was sunny and beautiful for our first day. We saw aliens, amazing views, and found 500 caches on day one. 

We started day 2 on the western side of the state. The weather turned on us becoming cold, overcast, and snow flurries flew. We completed all the caches along the paved portion of the highway and in order to get the rest of the caches hidden out there, we had to go on unmarked dirt roads into the desert. As we went higher in elevation, the snow picked up. We were forced off the dirt roads so as not to get stuck. Day 3 the sunshine returned, but it was super cold. We returned to the dirt roads as we had to go deep into the desert to get the oldest active geocache in Nevada. I saw more epic rock formations, wild horses, and the views were still incredible. We made it to the oldest and after some decent rock climbing, we made the find. But everything went downhill from there. The dirt roads were super soft due to all the precipitation. We had three rental cars and two of them were probably not meant for desert dirt roads. Needless to say, we got one of them stuck with no cell service and 20+ miles deep. We had no choice but to get it unstuck. Through a lot of pushing and pulling, we freed the car. We couldn't go back the way we came and had to go down a different road. While that one had a bit firmer dirt, we had to cross four water live water crossings. That was a trip. Took us over an hour to get back to the main highway. What's an adventure without a little drama?

By day 4, the snow became problematic. We decided to pause the E.T. highway and drive south to get away from the snow. We ended up caching in a plethora of historic and old goldrush towns, still in the snow. We had made it 70 miles south and decided to stop for lunch. Then a plan was formed. We were 30 miles from Death Valley, CA, so we went for it. We finally cleared the snow, but as we entered Death Valley, we were greeted with rain. One of the driest places in the continental US and it was raining. No matter because once we reached sea level, it was sunny and 65! And Death Valley had views to die for. We even ate ice cream which we got from an oasis in Death Valley. It was a much welcomed twist to this adventure.

When I woke up for Day 5, I was told to pack my bags as the snow had officially won. We would be abandoning the ET highway and headed for greener pastures. We left Tonopah and drove all the way to the Arizona border. We cached through Arizona and up into St. George, UT, where we would be staying for one day. Why here? Because George made the call to visit Zion National Park. And what a call that was. 

We eventually had to get back to Las Vegas, so we spent the final day driving and caching back there with a detour to the Hoover Dam along the way. Overall we ended up with a little over 1600 cache finds, many highs (6,000ft above sea level) and lows (20ft below sea level), tons of pictures, and plenty of memories for a lifetime. What an epic trip that was.

When April appeared, my longtime high school friend, Ryan, and I were about to embark on take 2 of our attempt to see a NASCAR race at Bristol Motor Speedway. Our first attempt was in 2020 and well, I'll let that year speak for itself. Easter weekend we drove from Cleveland down to Bristol, TN. We stopped at the border of TN and VA and took in the sights. The next day we drove down to Knoxville to be tourists for the afternoon and took in the views from the Sunsphere and the park built for the World's Fair back in the 80s. We then drove back to Bristol to catch the truck race. Then, Easter Sunday we rounded things off with the Cup race. This weekend was quite unique in the fact that NASCAR turned the track into a dirt track for the weekend. They'd been doing it for a number of years, but this one was the last. I got into NASCAR in 2001 and after twelve years, I finally made it to a Cup race.

April also kicked off some new baseball goals I had set for myself. The first was to attend one game every month from April-September. The second was to see four games that included the last four MLB teams I had never seen play live (Rockies, Brewers, Mets, and Rangers). The Rockies came to town the end of April and it was a cold, rainy day for a baseball game. The Guardians didn't get the W, but I checked the Rockies off the list.

I took a travel pause for the month of May but ended up hanging out with a lot of friends, going to numerous geocaching events, and adding another baseball game to the streak. My favorite season came calling and so did June. The cherry tree in my back yard produced a bounty of fruit and I decided to host a cookout/cherry picking day. I ended up BBQ'ing for 34 people that day. I ended up going to two Guardians games, both against the Brewers, which left the Mets and Rangers left to see and my monthly streak remained in tact.

My next adventure would take place the week after when I flew back to the the west coast, but this time it was to the Pacific Northwest in Portland, OR. My purpose for doing so was to visit Jesse, who had moved there recently. It was a long flight, but worth it as it's always a blast to visit people in new areas. In a few short days, we did an hour long hike that led to a scenic view of the river that borders Washington and Oregon, ate lots of delicious food, visited Powell's book store (the largest independent book store in the US), and Jesse was even kind enough to drive me 40 min to the site where the very first geocache was hidden. I did accidentally end up missing on a 20+ year old cache because I didn't realize it was nearby. Oh well. Portland was quite the experience.

July almost never disappoints. It starts off with Independence Day and everything else elevates from there. I participated in our annual summer youth conference that I been attending since 2004 and have not missed one yet. I tore a big hole in my shorts not realizing how flimsy they were when I crammed a giant metal water bottle in my back pocket. Thankfully I located some duct tape and patched them for the rest of the day. I also had the privilege of attending Hassan's (former co-worker) wedding about the same time. Thanks to that invite, I have been to at least one wedding every year since 2014 (2020 does not count). But in all the weddings I've had the pleasure of attending, I was not prepared for an intro to the wedding party like the one that occurred here. The party came in via DJ intros and then they were followed by massive drums and intense music. This went on for a good 10-15 min before everyone was seated and food was served. This is one of the many reasons I love weddings. Congrats again Hassan!

Ryan and I rendezvoused again, but this time to make a long awaited return to the Big Apple. I hadn't been in nearly four years and I haven't been to a Met's game, so this was the perfect excuse to go back. My trips to New York always have memorable moments and this one was loaded with them. On the first night we met up with some of Ryan's friends for dinner, but also to remember a Ming. In 2019, Ming was a stranger to me. But he extended the offer to Ryan to bring a friend to his wedding. After that adventure, we were strangers no more. The kindness he showed me that weekend wad incredible. The fact that he still mentioned me to Ryan over the years was a sign of a caring person. I wish I could've gone back sooner, but Covid and life had other ideas. Sadly Ming developed cancer and it wasn't caught in time. He passed almost exactly one year ago from the moment of this writing. He will be missed and meeting the other people he called friends was a nice way to honor him. 

The morning after, Ryan and I split to do some things on our own. I met up with Sam Chen and got to meet his son. We wandered central park for a while before parting ways. I geocached more of NYC before re-uniting with Ryan. We eventually grabbed a subway all the way to Queens because we had a Met's game to go see. We had to wait out a short rain delay, but we ended up getting a full 9 innings of baseball in. I always worry about a rain-out because that means another plane ticket and missed opportunity. The Met's lost extending my record for the home team of 2 wins and 10 losses for MLB games I've attended outside of Cleveland. But I got to check the Mets and Citi Field off the lists. 

The last day snuck up on us, but it had moments that I will speak of for years to come. Before this trip, I had been to NYC three times prior. The first time I made sure to visit Ground Zero. The second time I happened to be close, so I stopped by again. The third I went with a group, some of whom had not been there yet, so I found myself there a third time. I decided that if possible, I would make a point to visit Ground Zero if possible each time I find myself in NYC. Why? Because I'm an American who still has some pride in this scared country. And I realize the cost that many men and women paid through that horrible event. So to be there and pay respect is something I feel to do. 

I got a double dose of Chen bros as we were able to meet up with John before our evening plans. It was in that moment I found out his wedding was going to be in San Diego in 2024, so guess where one of my adventures will take me next year! After we split, Ryan and I had one last thing to experience. We were going to the top of Rockefeller Center a.k.a. The Top of the Rock. We did have a bit of time to kill so we stopped in a restaurant for a break. Ryan and I were shooting the breeze and I mentioned my trip to Australia. The server overheard and jumped in. Turns out she was an Aussie who had moved to NYC for a change of pace. I had a blast sharing stories of my travels down under and hearing about her life there. Eventually Ryan and I had to get going and on the way out I said "Aussie Aussie Aussie!" and was met with a boisterous "Oi Oi Oi!" Great, unexpected moment. By 9PM, we found ourselves at the top of the Rock. I had been to the top of both the Empire State building and the new One World Trade Center before, but this one was a real treat. The view was absolutely amazing, especially at night and worth every penny to go up there. What an incredible way to close out another awesome adventure.

Can't close out July without discussing the Midwest Geo-bash. Each year, hundreds of geocachers descend upon the Wauseon fairgrounds in Ohio for five days of camping, geocaching, events, contests, and a whole ton of fun. This was the first year I stayed multiple days. And I had a blast. lots of late nights around campfires, lots of laughs, lots of geocaches, and I also participated in a Texas Hold'em tournament for geocoins and ended up placing 15 out of 40. Not bad for my first ever tournament. The Bash has become a must do on my list for each year. And The day after the Bash ended, I kept my Guardians baseball streak alive with a game for July.

Our annual family trip that happens every August came next and this year we were back in Wisconsin. But this visit would be a bit different as it was the first time we wouldn't be staying with family (but we would still see a lot of them) and the first time my brother Tim would not be with us. We rented a large cabin way out in the woods, but really only slept there. The list of things we did include going to Interstate Park on the Wisconsin/Minnesota border for a day, drove over 2 hours to Gooseberry Falls in Minnesota, stopped by Lake Superior (and touched it), did a lot of fishing, lots of fires, food, family and cats. By this point my state visited count for the year was in the double digits (final count at the end). But the year wasn't over yet! Oh and August also held an important milestone. The 22nd marked the 20th year I've resided in the Buckeye State. Two whole decades. Crazy.

I squeezed in a ball game in August before the calendar turned to September. But once it did I completed my two major baseball goals for the year. I attended a Guardians game vs the Rangers in which the Guards blew them away 12-3. I checked the last major league team off the list as I had officially seen every MLB team play a game live (most at Progressive field of course). I also finished the regular season streak of at least 1 game a month April-September. I felt accomplished. But baseball wasn't done for me yet as I had two more rodeos up my sleeve. The first came on the 23rd when I attended my final Guardians game of the season. The playoff-bound Baltimore Orioles were in town and I nearly witnessed my first no hitter live. John Means had not allowed any Guardian to record a hit going into the 8th inning. He ended up making one mistake as Andres Giminez clobbered a home run. I was glad we didn't get no-hit, but was oh so close to witnessing a rare feat live. I had another problem. If I'm going to make it to every MLB ballpark in a reasonable amount of time, one a year isn't going to cut it. I reached out to some friends in Chicago and asked if I could visit and if they'd be interested in a White Sox game. I got the affirmative and on the last weekend of the baseball season, I drove to Chicago and got to witness one final game with 9 other people, the most to ever join me on my ballpark tour. Ten games, three ballparks, two goals, and one pretty fly baseball season. And on my way back to Cleveland, I stopped in Indiana to find the oldest geocache in the state and make my 7,000th find. Milestones baby.

October was a month that had a big life shift. My parents sold the first house they ever bought, the one I had lived in the longest (a little over 12 years), and the one they lived in for the last 17 years. Circumstances became very favorable to do so and thus it was time. It wasn't the first house I lived in and I don't consider it my childhood home, but for 13 years of my life, it was home just the same. Taking one last walk and turning in my set of keys was bittersweet. Another chapter has ended and a fresh one had begun.

I took another month off from travel in November, but enjoyed all the fun local events and get-togethers I had with friends and family. Especially the two Friendsgivings I attended as well as the first Thanksgiving in my parent's new place. That brings us to December. And while all the holiday festivities and the Christmas season are something I always look forward to, the highlight for this month was being able to spend Christmas with my immediate and extended family in Maryland and Pennsylvania. Lots of driving, but also lots of joy. 

If you've made it this far, I thank you and appreciate you. Being able to look back on a year of life and share it with those willing to take the time to read it is truly a blessing. Overall I went on nine trips, set foot in 14 states (NV, CA, AZ, UT, TN, VA, OR, NY, WI, MN, IL, IN, MD, & PA), four of them for the first time, made new friends, reconnected with ones of old, had highs and lows, and made many memories to last a lifetime. Here's to the dawn of a new year. Many well wishes and blessings to you all.

The Story of My Life: What is Love?

Six months. That's how long it took after I started public school to decide I wanted a girlfriend. Yes, my newly found hormones were partially to blame. Yet, they were not my sole reason for this sudden desire. Before I get into all those details, I have to preface some things. The first is that even though I'm sharing personal parts of my life for all the world to read, whenever I deem it necessary, I may change names and certain details for obvious reasons. Secondly, there are stories that will appear here or have appeared here that have never been told in part or in full. This will be one of them. Now that you have been informed, let's proceed with this tale.

My first two quarters of public school I spent trying to get adjusted to my new life. I was concerned with being able to fit in, dealing with severe anxiety, and trying to be a straight A student because anything else to me meant I wasn't good enough. As time marched on, my concern for those things lessened. I began making friends and was slowly establishing myself. A big part of this development was observation. I paid close attention to how the popular kids acted and how the ones who seemed to have a core group of friends carried themselves. I had become pretty good friends with two people who were dating. One was very athletic and loved basketball. Basketball was the sport I enjoyed most as a kid. While I was nowhere near as good as him, he never once told me I sucked when we played and saw some potential in me. I admired him for that. His girlfriend was incredibly kind and had a way of making an awkward and nerdy kid felt seen. She could definitely catch your eye in a crowded room and the fact that she treated me like a good friend early on made me feel like I was on cloud 9.

Those two gelled really well together and when I saw what they had, I knew it was something I wanted. When I thought about who I might fancy, I was surprised how quickly someone came to mind. We'll call her Laura (not her real name). She was of the quiet type, at least in a public setting. Not tall in stature, but I found her really cute and loved her smile. My last bit of reasoning was that if I took my shot with someone who was closer to my league, I'd have a smaller chance of being rejected. 

I hadn't interacted with her too much in the first half of the year, thus making me wonder if she even noticed me. My solution to this problem was to try to talk to her more. Say "hi" in the hallways. Try to make small talk when opportunity arose. I even sat at nearby lunch tables or the same one if it was of the larger type. I thought I was putting my best effort forward while being as subtle as possible. I also was nervous about asking her out and was waiting for what I hoped would be the right opportunity. That opportunity was going to come much faster than I expected.

One fateful afternoon, I logged into the computer and waited for the ever painful dial-up to connect. As soon as it did, I logged into AIM. Before I could open the browser, I hear the all familiar "ping". An instant message popped up before my eyes. It was from someone not on my friend's list, but her screen-name was mostly her birth name. So I knew right away who it was. The message was direct. It went something like this: "Hi. I have a question. Do you like Laura?" My eyes went wide. It was blunt and it shattered all my thoughts of having been subtle. I was caught completely off guard. "What?" was all I could reply. "Do you like Laura?" she asked again. I was trapped. I didn't want to lie to her and potentially ruin any chance I had with Laura. So in the nerdiest way possible, I replied with "Seventy percent as a friend and thirty percent like her." "Great. That's all I wanted to know." I don't recall if there was more to that conversation, but I believe it ended there.

I was now in damage control. Laura wasn't on AIM at that moment so I logged out. Later that day, I booted the PC up and logged back in hopping she would be on. Bingo. I opened with a cordial "hello". She responded and I told her I had an important question. I came out blazing. "Do you like me?" There was a short pause in her reply, but to me it was an eternity. *Ping* "No. But we can still be friends. My parents wouldn't let me date right now anyway." And there it was. My first rejection. Was it a dagger? No. But it did feel like a pin prick. A sharp, quick jab whose sting was a fleeting moment.

There was a lot I didn't understand in that moment. But years down the road, so many things became clear. I discovered that I had no idea between feelings and loving someone romantically. The pain was brief because I did not establish anything, share any part of my life with her, nor build up a relationship. Hindsight makes me forever grateful that a relationship did not form. Now that I'm well into my adult years, I fully understand I was in no way, shape, nor form ready for a relationship. Especially not in the seventh grade. At that age, I had no concept of commitment to another person and how much it would be required to actually keep and hold a relationship. There's a reason adults tell you to wait until college or later. Now I'm not saying high school is too early as I've seen those relationships start there, blossom through college, and make it well beyond the average divorce rate. For some people it works out. But when one has matured, acquired a steady job, has their finances in order, and other adulting aspects come to fruition, a relationship becomes more meaningful and has a better chance of lasting for years to come. Plus as a kid, I had my whole life ahead of me. No need to rush into a relationship then because I simply wanted to.

I do need to note that it still took me a while to comprehend all of that as my ignorance in the dating world was going to put me in some goofy situations not long after that very rejection. And as for Laura, I did not try to pursue her anymore through the rest of Jr. High. And surprisingly enough, no one else other than her close friend ever confronted me about my feelings for her. She didn't treat me any different and didn't push me away either. We remained friends for the rest of our Jr. High years. 

I've never told that story to anyone in full. Mainly because I was never really asked, but more so because I didn't really ever have the desire to. You never know when life is going to hit you with an intense, but meaningful lesson. And it definitely taught me some things that still took me a while to fully learn. I felt I needed to include it here as it is a crucial part of my story. And this was only the beginning of find the answer to the age old question...what is love?

How Do I Say This?

I'm not satisfied with that title. I pondered over a slew of options but couldn't find one to best describe what I'm about to say. You may think it doesn't matter that much, but coming from a place of experience, it does. I've been writing this blog for nearly 13 years now. And while I mostly do it for my love of writing and to share my thoughts with anyone who may take a pause to read them, sometimes I do it because I'm hoping certain people will simply happen to see the post and read it. A hail mary of expression if you will. So I ponder these titles and hope they live up to their allure. 

Now to my main reason for this post. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Mostly about people. There's been a lot of change in my connections with many of them throughout the years and it's not always to my liking. As I continue to write my life's story here, the more reflection hits me. That combined with all the different situations surrounding me that are creating chaos in my well being. 

This is going to be somewhat vague and a lot of non-flowing thought, but that's how this cookie is going to crumble. I hope I'm wrong about this first one, but in the past two years, I think I had a long-time friend who I was close with in high school and have kept in touch with throughout the years suddenly ghost me. I visited this person last in 2021 and nothing seemed off then. But for the last two years, not one response to a single text. Maybe they changed their number and forgot to tell me, but I don't truly believe that because if someone else had gotten that number, they may have sent me a "wrong number" reply which I never got. And this person hasn't made one attempt to reach out to me in two years, even though I've tried numerous times. It gnaws at me because I'm always wondering if it's something I did or said and have no idea what it could be I'm hoping I'm simply wrong and they somehow reappear again.

I have another high school friend who was very influential on my passion for writing. And when I say influential, I mean they are 80% of the reason I not only decided to continue writing through high school and beyond, but they also critiqued it in a way and helped me refine it to be closer to what it is today. After we graduated, I was able to keep in touch a bit throughout college. They moved out of state post college and I have tried a few times throughout the years to meet up, but it has not yet worked out. I haven't seen this person in 14 years and there are times I wish I could reconnect with them, even for a day.

There was someone who came from another state, lived here for a handful of years, was close with my age group of friends, and served in the church. This person eventually moved back to where they came from and I did not see them as much anymore, but still thought about them from time to time. Then seemingly out of nowhere, I found out they had blocked me on facebook. It caught me off guard as I could not fathom what I had done to cause such a heavy action. It hurt. And I still have no idea to this day what was the cause. I wish I knew. If it was something I did to offend them, it was unintentional and I would like to mend that situation. Even if I don't believe I did anything wrong, it kills me not knowing what happened.

A friend from many moons ago was involved in my childhood. Then when I moved away, we simply drifted apart. I managed to get in touch with them years later, but that was the last time. They've basically fallen off the grid. Facebook account is long gone. They changed their phone number and the only person I could get it from was told not to give it out. I have not seen them in nearly ten years. Yet, they still inhabit my thoughts every now and then. And I would honestly go to great lengths just to get a phone call from them.

Then there are many dear friends whom I've known for years, but we live quite far apart. I would still see them frequently as our churches did many joint events throughout the years. But in recent times, there have been changes that have caused me to see them less and less. We're not on bad terms by any means. Far from it. But not having seen some of them in 5-10 years is quite maddening. On a recent trip I got into a deep discussion with a friend. In that conversation, they asked a simple question. "Is there anyone you really want to see?" I didn't hold back, I rattled off a lengthy list of names. The reality of it is, if you told me that I could see at least one of these people again, but there would be a price, I'd have two words. "Name it." 

Exposing thought. There are times I wish I didn't care as much as I do. Because then these empty holes wouldn't hurt so much. Second exposing thought. There are some people that don't fall into the MIA category. But there are some things that I wish they knew that I don't have the words to express it to them for fear of damaging a relationship that isn't currently damaged. Who knows, maybe one day the cards will be played right, the door will open, and it will be necessary to spill the beans. But for now, I'll keep riding the waves.

I started this post over a month ago, when my feelings on this subject were much stronger than they are now. But I didn't want this post to end up as one of the many unfinished and unpublished drafts sitting on this blog. As I finish this, I realize there's not really a good time to post something like this, but felt the need to let it loose. Ultimately, I'm in good shape. But these thoughts and feelings of missing people come and go like the wind. Maybe a resolution will come and maybe it won't. Only time will be able to reveal that. That is all.

The Story of My Life: The Trio is Born

I thought I could resist making strong connections. I really didn't want to have to leave good friends again in a year. But my social side needed those connections. My human side needed those connections. In only six months, I had come really close to Timothy and Jeremiah. Then, one winter night during a young people's meeting, a new family arrived. They were the Greenwoods. 

They had come from Wisconsin and they had moved here for their father's job. It was sort of a homecoming for them as they had family here. There were three children called Mark, Melissa, and Matthew. Mark was nine months younger than I, but we seemed to hit it off really quick. I'd make it a point to talk to him at the YP meetings. I had made another friend.

The friendship started very casual as the only time I hung out with Mark was on Friday nights and very briefly on Sunday mornings. I was still spending a lot of time with Timothy since he lived next door. I also began spending weekends of at Jer's house too. But then, in late July, I heard Mark's mom, Carla, make a comment about inviting me somewhere. Shortly after, Mark invited me to a sleepover for his birthday. It was an immediate yes from me. 

I was expecting a standard sized birthday party crowd, but it turned out that the only people invited/and could make it were me and another young person from the church named Stephen H.(pronounced Steh-fen). Stephen was also one of the many kids I had met through the YP meetings, but I didn't know him as well yet. That all would change during the weekend. 

The Greenwoods had a very nice house with a small woods and creek that ran through their back yard. The sleepover was going to take place in the woods. We started off the early evening with a little campfire and $5 Domino's pizza, a pizza for each of the three of us. Mark loved Domino's and I didn't blame him as their pizza was delicious. After we finished the pizza, Stephen went looking for something. He came back holding a very flat rock about the size of a small appetizer plate. He promptly threw it in the fire. Mark didn't say a word and my pyro knowledge was in its infant stages, so I was oblivious as to what was about to happen. We continued talking and I had completely forgotten about the ordeal. We started discussing different interests and possibly video games when BANG! The fire flared up and I nearly fell out of my chair. The sound was so loud it echoed through the woods and all the way up to the house. Mark's dad, Sid, who was relaxing on the back deck shouted "WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Stephen happily calls out "a rock!" "What did you do that for?!" Sid shouted back. "Because it was cool!" came Stephen's reply. His dad just shook his head gave a little chuckle and said not to do it again. 

In that moment I learned a few things. Superheating a rock can make it explode. Fire is incredibly fascinating. And that Sid was a down-to-earth guy. In a few more hours, the sun would set, and the real fun began. With the sun gone and darkness taking over, the glow of the fire was our light. We wandered the woods hunting for toads, bugs, and any other small thing that that made noise in our vicinity. If any winged bug tried to enter camp, it met its fate with the flames. While our shenanigans were a bit nutty, we kept the fire fed, but contained. 

Somewhere between 3-4am, we decided to give in to our body's cries for sleep. I was about to experience something I never had before. There was no tent. Simply a tarp on the ground, three sleeping bags, and three pillows. This was purposely planned. Looking back I realized it was a miracle we didn't get eaten alive by bugs, nor awoken by the night rodents, and the weather was calm and clear all night. We slept well under the stars that night. It was a little out of my comfort zone, but the experience reminded me of the stories from the Wild West. Cowboys would sleep in the out in the open, with nothing but the stars above. In the right climate and the right setting, it is magical.

That experience created a bigger bond between Mark and I. I began to spend more weekends over at his house. One very memorable one that comes to mind occurred on a chilly Autumn Saturday. I had spent the night and we were up really late playing video games. We didn't leave the comfort of the covers until the morning had long left our presence. We sauntered down the stairs to grab something to sate our hunger and once we had found it, we promptly went back up the stairs where we stayed the majority of the day. Those hours were wasted away on a trifecta of things that made a teenage boy feel like he was on cloud nine. We kicked thing's off by playing a brand new PC game Mark had gotten for his birthday. Sid Meir's Pirates! In my love for history, I always had an interest in the pirate realm. Now to play a game where I commanded a pirate ship and battled the likes of Henry Morgan, Captain Kidd, and even Blackbeard himself allowed hours of fun to cruise right on by. When we had enough of the games, we went to a popular website that existed long before Youtube really came on the scene; it was known as Moronland.net. The website was known for a vast collection of humorous videos. From cats being doofuses, to comedic animated skits, to the best moments that appeared on late night shows, my sides hurt by the time we had had enough. The icing on the cake was that Mark had a sizeable portion of Halloween candy left. I don't know how he kept up with me having eaten so much in the month prior, but we finished what was left in that humongous bag.

Sometimes we found chaos and other times, chaos found us. I had this habit of keeping all my graded school work in tact until the end of the year. Normally I would tear it or toss it at Summer's first light to signify the freedom that came with it. But this time, I had a different plan. As spoken of previously, Mark's family had a fire pit. I love fire. Nothing would've pleased me more then watching the sour grades go up in flames. I talked to Mark and put my plan into motion. We set the weekend and when it came time, I had loaded a garbage bag with every scrap of graded work I had kept from the school year. Sid had known what our plan was and approved, but told us to wait until he and Carla returned later that evening. Mark's grandmother, Marilyn, came over to make sure we didn't wreak havoc on the house. 

Everything was running smoothly, that is until the Cheez-It incident. We had been snacking on a whole box when we heard Mark's parents come home. He leapt off the couch and started to run up the stairs. "Wait!" I shouted. "Take this with you!" I launched the box in a spiral motion. Mark's reaction was to pancake catch it. He made a great catch, but unfortunately, he caught the box upside-down and the force of his hands smacking the sides caused the top to fly open and release its contents all over the floor. We both stood there in shocked silence. Then I started laughing. Replaying the image of the exploding box over and over in my mind, I was all in fits. Once I recovered, we quickly cleaned up the mess. We then ran upstairs to find Mark's parents to get the approval to begin that night's festivities.

My heart stopped a little when Carla mentioned about getting ready for bed. "But...but we were going to burn stuff," I pleaded. Sid saw that look and knew he had promised us we could. He gave us the okay and we bolted down to the fire pit. I had my trash bag and he had his. "What are we going to start this with," I asked motioning to the pile of logs. "There's some old gas in the garage," Mark said. "I'll be back." Before I could protest, he was up the hill and back again with that all to familiar red container. "Are you sure we can use this?" I inquired. "We use this all the time for burning so it's fine," came Mark's reply. I thought we were going to use a little on some of the logs, but I watched as Mark removed the cap and then proceeded to douse the entire pile until it was soaked in gasoline. Once he had finished, the pyro in me began to awake. I grabbed the lighter, lit a single graded paper and prepared to toss it. "Careful," Mark said. "That pile's going to explode." "I got this," I said confidently. I stood about four feet away and tossed the paper. It landed on the log, but the wind had quenched the flame before it hit. I went to flip it, but Mark saw the embers on the paper. "Get a stick and flip it," he cautioned. I heeded his words and did so. The embers hit the soaked logs and the pile burst into flames. We rejoiced as the fun was about to begin.

I went into maniac mode and laughed evil laughs as I happily threw papers, tests, homework, and anything else that had caused me grief that school year into the hungry flames. I whipped them in with gusto. I made paper airplanes and launched them in. I made them kiss the flames and burn slow deaths. I couldn't think of a better way to welcome in the summer.

It wasn't long before we had burned through the majority of our stash. The fire was dying down and the flames nearly gone. My pyro side had been satisfied. But then, Mark made an unsuspecting move. He picked up that red gas can and made his way towards the embers. "What are you doing?!" I exclaimed. We have nothing left to burn." "I want to finish off the gas." I was cool with that, but wasn't prepared for what was about to happen. Mark, who had been so cautious before, threw all that out the window. He walked straight up to the edge of the pit and began to pour. The moment the fossil fuel hit the pit, the flames awoke like a demon released from hell. Mark somehow reacted quickly enough to keep his eyebrows, but he stumbled backward through the woods, dripping gas and causing mini flames to follow. I quickly ran over and began stomping ferociously trying to prevent those infamous forest fires that show up on the news every year. Mark came to his senses and helped me avert disaster. We put out all the fire spawns and surveyed the area. No major damage and the fuel in the pit was all burned up. We got very lucky. Chalk one up to surviving stupid. 

After our near disaster, Mark surprised me again. I thought for sure that he'd keep our little incident under wraps. But instead, he told his dad what happened. I wasn't in the same room when he did, but he told me he had. Once again, there was no scolding, no telling us what we did wrong, but instead a knowledge that a lesson about gas and fire had been learned. And a word of caution when handling such things. 

It was long after all these memorable moments that I mentioned to Jeremiah all the shenanigans Mark and I were getting into. He mentioned that his mom had said it would be a good idea to connect with him. And that's exactly what he did. Pretty soon the three of us started hanging out together. And just like that, the Trio was born. The shenanigans we were going to cause and the memories we were going to make would be of epic proportions. This would become more than just a friendship. This was a brotherhood. 

The Story of My Life: Life Lessons Don't Always Come Easy

After a couple of years throwing some vicious haymakers, 2004 was about to bring about many key life lessons that would define my teenage years and have lasting impacts throughout my life. I never placed 2004 in my "favorite years" list, but as I write this and reflect upon how my life turned out that year, I realize I undervalued that year for far too long. 

I went into 2004 excited as 2003 was finally put to bed. I was almost halfway through my first year in Cleveland which in my mind meant being that much closer to returning to Pennsylvania. In terms of how school was going, I was flying high. My one on one attention from homeschool and being put into the 7th grade instead of the 8th, was allowing me to get straight A's in my sleep. I was also earning moniker's like Smarty Pants, Nerd, and Teacher's Pet. I would normally get offended, but all of those nicknames were true. Especially Teacher's Pet. My worst fear was getting in trouble. The best way to combat that was to literally be a teacher's pet, at least that's what I thought. Also it was a good way to combat bullies as being on the teacher's good side would likely always have them choose my side over the bully. Which in turn earned me the nickname Snitch. As annoying as these names were, I tried for the most part not to let them get to me. Retaliation would mean enemies and that's one thing I didn't wasn't prepared to create.

Despite of all that, I managed to make connections including one with one of the newer kids who transferred halfway through the school year. His name was Zack, which is ironic because as you all know, I had a friend back in PA named Zach. To become friends was written in the stars. Zack would become a good friend of mine as we both shared a love for video games and professional sports. One day, during lunch, Zack mentioned a free online video game where you could create a character, level them up, roam through a massive world, complete quests, and battle creatures. And the kicker was you could play with thousands of other people online in real time. The game was called Runescape. 

Up until this point, online gaming with other people wasn't as big as it is now. The only experience I had in that department was when I would sleep over at Jeremiah's house and me, him, and his older brother Dan would stay up until 4AM playing Counter Strike. A game in which six random people would play six other random people in as terrorists vs counter-terrorists. The goal was to eliminate all the other team or set off/diffuse a bomb. A game my parents would've never approved of if they knew I was playing it. But you won't tell right? The games were over in the blink of an eye so the actual interaction you had with the other players was over really quick. Runescape, however, was different. It would become a staple in my life, but also teach me a life lesson I was not ready for.

After Zack told me about Runescape and the website to go to, I didn't hesitate to create an account. At the time, the game ran in the browser on a flash player so I didn't have to download anything which was amazing because trying to download anything on dial-up internet was like waiting for a sloth to cross the road. Once my account was created, I had to give my character a screen name (like AIM). I was still heavily into sword fighting and days of old. And Tom Cruise's movie, The Last Samurai, had just come out and I thought that would be a cool name. So I called my character thelastsamurai13. Why I had an obsession with the number 13, I do not know. But all I knew was thelastsamurai13 was ready to take on the Runescape world. 

Within a few days of joining and getting familiar with the game world, I discovered that Jeremiah played too. That made the game more appealing because when I logged on, I could find him or Zack playing and we could play together, even though we weren't in the same room or even at times in the same city. We could make our characters meet in the same location in the same world, and play the game while also talking about life. 

As that first week went on, I began interacting with other real life people in the game. There were people willing to trade digital items, help me on a quest, or just make a new friend. That was all going great until I met this one guy trying to help people get free memberships. A membership was a paid version of the game that unlocked an excessive amount of quests, items, skills, and the rest of the world map that you could not get access to on a free account. It was the main way the game developers kept a portion of the game free, because they supplied paying members with all the extra content. So of course, every kid who didn't have money would love a free membership. This guy told me in game chat that there was a special way to do it. My present day self sees this as an obvious red flag. My thirteen year old self who had little understanding about internet safety, had no clue.

The person I was interacting with seemed like he genuinely wanted to help me. He asked me to follow his character and said I needed to pass some tests. The first was I had to kill a level 2 creature to show I was strong enough. I was level 10 at that point so that was no problem. Then we went to one of the biggest and most player populated cities in the game...Varrock. He then said I needed to be able to pay the in game fee of 1 gold piece. I had thousands of those at this point so I gave him one measly digital GP for free. Pleased with my progress, he said there was one last trial. He asked me to follow him. Our characters ended up walking a very long time to a very remote part of the world. I didn't know it then, but his purpose was to eliminate the chance of any other real life players seeing our chat as the chat was open to all players in proximity. Once we got there, he said the last thing he needed was trust. He needed to access my account to upgrade it to a membership account. He asked for my password. Alarm bells should've been blaring. Sirens should've been wailing. The dead should've been waking just to scream at me to run away. But all I could think about was the possibility of being able to have access to all that fun stuff for free. So I typed my password in chat and hit "Enter". He then told me to log out, wait 10 minutes, then log back in and I would have access to a full membership. So I did just that. 

Ten minutes later, I went to log in. I typed in thelastsamurai13 and my password. Access denied. Tried again. Incorrect password. My heart sank. My brain was now only processing what had happened. I had given a complete stranger the only thing that could access my account and I gave it to him on a silver platter. I had officially been scammed. To make matters worse, signing up for the account requires a name, address, and other personal information that could easily lead to identity theft. I was devastated. My character that I had put a week's worth of work into was gone. The levels I worked so hard to obtain...gone. The screenname thelastsamuri13...also gone. I was reckless, stupid, and had made a rookie mistake. 

The next time I saw Jeremiah, I told him what happened and he confirmed I had been scammed. He said people try to do that to newer accounts just to get all the items and other things you earned to give to their main accounts. To say I was frustrated would be an understatement. But there was a silver lining here. I now was aware of scamming and realized it could happen to anyone...even me. This time it was a gaming account that did not have a credit card attached. It could've been much worse. I got lucky, but a life lesson had been learned. I created a new account and called it Ninja2421. I was going to be the one in the shadows and made it a vendetta to go up against any wrongdoing I saw. This will come into play later.

Switching gears to a matter that was out of my control. I had been a relatively healthy kid up to this point. No medications, no allergies, no broken bones, and no ER visits. But in early January on a Monday morning I had gone to school with a bit of an ache. By second period, I was not doing so well and Mrs. Morris thought it best that I go home. My dad came and got me. I went straight to the doctor's office. There they diagnosed me with the flu and prescribed medication. I was a bit scared because I knew what the flu could do to older people and that it wipes anyone out for days. I was told I had to stay out of school at least through Thursday unless my symptoms worsened. My heart sank as I knew how much work I'd have to catch up on and that I'd have to go on medication. I couldn't catch a break.

Monday got worse and by Tuesday I was in so much pain it was hard to sleep. My head hurt, my throat hurt, I didn't feel like eating, everything was a mess. I thought for sure this was going to last for a long time. By Wednesday, things started to get a bit better, but I still felt crummy. My siblings brought home make-up work given to them by my teachers. Having nothing better to do, I tackled what I could and hoped for the best. By Thursday, I woke to my siblings getting ready for school, having slept through the night for the first time in two days. After they all left and the commotion died down, I fell back asleep and did not wake up again until almost 2 in the afternoon. By this point, I was feeling about 85% peachy. When I woke up Friday morning, my temperature was normal and I felt well enough to return to school. I was a bit worried because I didn't finish all the work, Mrs. Morris and Ms. Bentkowski had grace on me and didn't count the assignments I couldn't complete. They were simply nixed from my grade. I thought it was going to take me awhile to catch back up, but it turned out that I was fine because I was still familiar the material from homeschool. What I was able to take away from this was that sometimes in life, some things are out of my control. And rather than worry about the storm, I should focus on the recovery from the aftermath. 

One final life lesson is actually a throwback to December of 2003. The school decided it would be a fun idea to have a door decorating contest for the Christmas season and the winning class would get a pizza party. Looking back it may have been more to brighten up the dull ancient building that was Nathaniel Hawthorne and to get the kids into a bit of school fun. Now there was a bit of a rivalry between the two 7th grades. Mainly because one was full of advanced level kids and the other was full of standard level kids. I was in the standard level because they didn't know if I was ready to be placed in the advanced. There was another girl in my class who should've been in the advanced, but she had refused and wanted to remain with the kids she had gone through most of middle school with. Her name was Oliva. 

The rivalry formed because it was two groups of kid with different statuses. While we all generally got along, whenever competition came up, the heat was on. Backed behind the enthusiasm of Mrs. Morris, we were all in to win the contest. The materials were supplied and we went to work. The door was edged with frame paper and wrapped in colorful wrapping paper. We added gold stars with paper gingerbread men and stuck a picture of each student's face on each one. A wreath of red baubles was hung and a cut-out of the Grinch was slapped on the front. The final touch was golden tassels at the top of the door. We were proud of that work, but weren't sure if it was enough to get us to #1. But Mrs. Morris had a trick up her sleeve. She told us that the day before the judging was to occur, she was going to bring in her secret weapon. A large inflatable Santa Claus. We went nuts. We knew there was no way the other class was going to see that one coming. But we had to keep it a secret for a few days.

The day before the "secret" Santa was to arrive, we all were in Ms. Bentkowski's room for English. I don't remember exactly what happened, but someone or something had rubbed a boy in our class the wrong way. His retaliation was to spill the beans on Santa. We all went simultaneously shouted his name is disbelief. Ms. Bentkowski tried to hide her laughter. I thought we were done. Our secret had been exposed. When things had calmed down, I witnessed something of what made a teacher want to be a teacher. Ms. Bentkowski, without any initiation on our end, said she'd make us a deal. She would not tell her class our secret if we managed to finish class under sound circumstances and everyone completed the assignment. Somehow that proposition worked. 

When we returned to Mrs. Morris's classroom, we gave her the bad news that a certain someone had spilled the beans. She wasn't too pleased. But we explained Ms. Bentkowski's compromise and things cooled down once again. The next morning when we arrived to class, there was the large Santa, greeting us at the door. As the students from the other class came in, their jaws dropped. The term gobsmacked would suffice here. We knew Ms. Bentkowski held up her end of the deal. 

A couple days later, before we went on Christmas break, we heard Mr. Pempin come over the loud speaker to announce the winners of the door contest. We all became quiet. He went on about the heated contest and the great effort everyone put in. Then, after a brief pause, he announced the winners as room 202, Mrs. Morris's class. Anything he said after that was drowned out by our joyous uproar. It was an incredible feeling. I learned two things in that moment. 1) When there's a moment of weakness that can be taken advantage of, compassion is the path least traveled, but is the honorable thing to do. 2) Teachers teach for a reason. And while there may be a few bad apples in the bunch, most care about those they teach, no matter how difficult they sometimes may be. 

There's a lot more I have to say about 2004, but for now I'll leave you with a pretty dashing photo.