The Rushing River (Creative Writing - Highland Hall 1974)

I was standing on the west bank looking for a place to cross. The river was very deep in the middle which meant that I would be forced to swim. The water rushed angrily over the half-sunken rocks which were scattered in different places making the whole scene very treacherous. The water stunned me for a split second as I placed my feet in what seemed to be below freezing water. I started towards the other side, stumbling over the slippery rocks below. Thigh deep, the turbulence began to throw me off balance. I climbed up on one of the outcroppings. From where I was standing, it seemed like there was about fifteen feet of river ahead of me before I would be able to stand up without being dragged away.

I curled my feet over the rocks as best I could, crouched over and sprang off. Straightening myself in mid-air, I was able to plunge through the icy water with a minimum of friction. I came up to the surface screaming in agony as the cold literally penetrated my flesh all the way to the bone. I used every stroke I knew but to no avail. I became a victim of the mighty force of the current. I managed to keep my feet in front of me and my head above the water as I floated down the river, narrowly preventing a fatal collision with a large rock!

Frantically, I looked around for anything to grab onto. One hundred yards ahead of me, an enormous log floated by very slowly. "This is my only chance", I said to myself. The log turned out to be bigger than I thought. Exhausted, I managed to crawl up on it. My only wish was to somehow make it to shore. After what seemed like hours, my spirits lifted as the river wound its way around a bend and terminated into a large, expansive lake. I jumped off of the log and swam joyously to shore. I got off and lay down on the warm, sandy beach, breathing a thankful sigh of relief that I had made it out alive.

Time (Creative Writing - Highland Hall 1974)

Time is a concept which must be dealt with by everybody. Not everybody enjoys dealing with it, though. Some people consider time to be something very precious which mustn't be wasted while others can't think of anything to do with it. The passage of time becomes more apparent when a big event occurs or an event which directly affects you. Time is what changes our world,  makes people older and is the universal healer. Time does wonders in causing people to forget bitter feelings or resentment.

If something very profound happens which alters your life, time has little or no effect in making you forget.

When you become involved in an activity you enjoy, time seems to rush by in an instant. This is because you are too preoccupied with the task at hand to be interested in time. On the other hand, if you have nothing to do, time slows down and minutes become hours and hours drag into days.

An experience concerning time that I have a lot happens before I travel someplace. The night before I left to go to Berkeley, I became very much aware of time, anxiously waiting for it to pass quickly. Yet it seemed like years before the next day arrived and then time literally flew by. It appears that time does exactly the opposite of what you want it to do.

Amnesty for draft evaders (Creative Writing - Highland Hall 1974)

Amnesty is forgiveness for a crime. This is how our government interprets it. There are many people who don't agree with this interpretation, especially when the war that is being evaded is unjust. Not only was the Vietnam war, unjust, but the draft was illegal. There is nothing written in the U.S. Constitution that says there may be a draft in the event of a war. So why should people who don't want to involve themselves in a crime be forgiven? They should be honored. The whole idea of conditional amnesty is an example of how corrupt our government is.

If President Ford can pardon Nixon for all the crimes Nixon committed, he could allow the draft dodgers to return to this country without having to serve in the military. Ford said that Nixon has suffered enough. That is the reason for his decision. The draft evaders have had to go to Canada, Mexico or wherever and many have suffered because they couldn't return to their families. So it all boils down to the fact that Nixon was given this privilege only because he was a former president and therefore was considered to be above the law. but nobody, not even a former president is above the law. I feel that the draft dodgers should be given unconditional amnesty without a doubt.

Survival (Creative Writing Class - Highland Hall 1974)

It was a cold, wintry morning in December, the day I would depart for Colorado to visit my relatives. We drove out to the airport and as I boarded the plane, a light drizzle began to fall. The stewardesses served everyone hot coffee which I gladly accepted. The plane climbed high above the clouds into the clear, blue sky.

I was pretty bored during the flight, either eating or amusing myself with a crossword puzzle. Everything was fine until the plane began to jolt around a bit. I didn't pay much attention to it because air turbulence happens all the time on a plane. I ignored it, but a minute later it happened again for a longer period of time. This aroused my interest so I viewed the earth below.

All that I saw were islands of rock in the clouds. I perceived it to be the Rocky Mountains protruding through the clouds. All of a sudden the plane began to rock back and forth violently. A tray full of hot tea fell from a stewardess onto the aisle and splattered the woman sitting in front of me. She shrieked in pain while the person next to me crossed her heart in a Catholic cross. The captain came on the loudspeaker and told us that everything was all right and to fasten our seat belts. For the first time in all my travels on jets, I felt afraid. This was due partly because the plane was rocking wildly about making me sick and one of the engines on my right began to smoke. People were screaming all around me and I heard someone yell, "The plane is on fire!" Indeed, the engine that was smoking earlier had caught on fire. I also noticed that we were descending from the sky rapidly. I listened to a man praying behind me. The plane was now only a few thousand feet above the ground. Less than 15 seconds later, we were enveloped in the storm clouds and for a brief second I saw a forest and snow falling all over the place. The pilot had managed to lift up the nose of the plane just before impact and the next instant there was a big thump as the plane hit a snowbank. I was immediately knocked unconscious.

When I regained consciousness, I felt a terrible pain in my head. All was silent around me except for the sound of the wind whistling outside. I called out but nobody answered. Was I the only survivor? The realization that I was alone proved to be more frightening than the crash itself.

I sat there for about an hour thinking about what to do. Nothing really bothered me physically except for the throbbing pain in my head which was beginning to subside. I got out of my seat and looked around. The plane had broken into two sections and dead bodies were strewn all over the place. I walked into the cockpit. Everything was all smashed up, destroying any chance of radio communications with the outside world. I felt a cold breeze chill my bones so I grabbed a down jacket from the floor and cuddled up in a corner to sleep. 

When I woke up, I felt hungry. My foot was numb from the cold. I managed to crawl around looking for food and came upon a large roast beef sandwich, a hard boiled egg and a bag of tortilla chips. The site of the food lifted my spirits and the meal gave me enough strength to stand up.

Looking outside, I was relieved to find that the storm had passed and the sun was shining brightly. I walked outside to get a better perspective of where I was. I found myself standing on a small meadow near the top of a steep mountain. I walked to the edge of the meadow and saw a large valley below. In the distance, I could faintly see smoke trickling its way up from what looked like a chimney of a house. I made up my mind that this house was going to be my destination. I no longer felt frightened because now I had a place to go.

I gathered together everything that could be useful which consisted of some food, a sleeping bag and a small tarp. I started down the mountain. The going was slow because I had to keep checking my direction. About noon, the terrain had become less steep and I found a small stream winding its way down to the valley. I decided it was best to follow the stream, so I continued on. About an hour later, I sat down to rest on the only log that wasn't covered in snow. I stared into the sky thinking about what had happened to me in one day. All of a sudden, I heard a familiar sound. A helicopter was circling the plane crash site. I jumped up, frantically waving my jacket and shouting as loud as I could but the helicopter didn't notice me and flew away. Full of despair, I continued my trek down the mountain. The sun was setting by the time I reached the valley floor.

I managed to make a decent fire and warmed my cold, aching feet and hands. Dinner consisted of three bagels, cream cheese, tomato, cucumber with onion, and a large chocolate milk. Feeling full and content, I laid out my sleeping bag and tarp. Sleep came easily because I had become very tired even though the air became steadily colder during the night. The sleeping bag felt very warm and by morning, I was too comfortable to want to get up. But I was hungry and forced myself to get up. I managed somehow to gather more wood for a fire. Breakfast consisted of a cheese omelette, two slabs of bacon, sausage, some fruit and a large hot coffee. 

After loading everything on my back, I started hiking again. From this point on, the going was easy. By lunchtime, I spotted the smoke again, this time only a mile away. I dropped everything and literally ran the rest of the way. I came to a clearing and joyously beheld a farmer and his wife staring at me curiously. My journey had ended and I felt grateful that I had made it back alive.

It is not as simple as it seems (Creative Writing Class - Highland Hall 1974)

I had just gotten my license and felt really good about it. It was a Saturday morning in July, a perfect day for the beach. I picked up a few friends and we drove out to Zuma Beach. 

We spent the day body surfing and at about 5:30, I decided that we had better leave. Everything seemed fine until one of my friends, Mike, pulled out a bottle of Johnnie Walker scotch whiskey. I told him quite frankly that I don't drink. Somehow everyone in the car managed to coax me into tasting it, which I was sure couldn't hurt me. All this time, we were driving on Malibu Canyon Road which requires a certain amount of concentration and good judgement. I thought one would be enough, but after they had passed it around a few times, I decided to join in, slowly at first, but as my companions cheered me on, I started taking fairly good-sized swigs. The bottle was empty and I had become quite drunk. For some reason, I couldn't focus my eyes on the road. I figured it must be because the sun had set and it was getting dark. For this reason, I felt impatient to get home. My friends didn't seem to notice or care that the car was hitting 50 mph in the canyon. I felt very sure of myself until I came around a curve that was too sharp for the speed that I was going. The car spun out of control and was thrown to the opposite side of the road. A second later, I looked up shaking and my heart stopped. A big diesel truck was heading straight for us. I frantically honked my horn and luckily he saw us. He tried to maneuver the large truck around us but the back end hit us and the car was smashed. For some miraculous reason, nobody was hurt. Now one thought stood over everything else: How would I tell my parents? It is not as simple as it seems.

Solitude and Loneliness are Equal (Creative Writing Class Highland Hall 1974)

During the course of one's life, the one thing people fear most is loneliness. Loneliness can come about suddenly or creep upon your slowly. Loneliness is usually a result of solitude. Generally, the awareness of becoming alone happens when a person is almost void of friends. I feel that most people react to being alone by becoming upset since man is a social, loving creature in his own ways. This has been part of the problem in our mental institutions and prisons. The whole idea of teaching a person a lesson by locking him up in solitary confinement could be damaging to the person's inner well-being and even cause insanity. In order to rehabilitate someone, you must reinforce the feeling of being loved and wanted. Otherwise, the isolation can result in feelings of depression and rejection.

To be lonely doesn't necessarily mean being alone in the physical sense. you could be one in a thousand and still feel rejected. This shows how loneliness can sometimes precede solitude.

Man relies on other people not only to escape loneliness and solitude but to express ideas, opinions and personal feelings. If man is deprived of other people in some way or another, he is without communication.