TheWRITEaddiction.com

at band camp…well, not band camp, because I was a choir kid. It was a camp though. Camp Beacon, to be specific. Twas a magical place nestled in the Civil War-carved hills of Vicksburg, Mississippi. To say that this was an amazing camp would be an understatement. It was my first time staying away from home for any length of time. It was my first time staying in a dorm. It was my first time with a roomie. It was my first summer love experience. It was the first time where I really had a manage my money. Now, aside from the great food, let me now tell you about my most memorable moment, the moment that I used to make a name for myself!

I referenced earlier that this camp was located in an extremely hilly area of Vicksburg. Now, for those of you who have never been to Vicksburg, it is the site of a famous Civil War battle. To even say that the landscape is hilly is a vast understatement. This camp had hills that would make sledding an extreme sport! On dares, one of our favorite camp activities was to walk along the edges of the concrete barriers, which only stood about 3 inches above the ground. I had been able to resist being dared for 3 weeks of camp, but in week number 4, I could no longer be afforded the may excuses I had concocted to avoid taking part in this “fun”. I mean, the drop off of this particular hill was sharp and exaggerated, and it was covered in thorny and bristly tree shrubs that evidently had been given the leftover scraps of ground nutrients.

Now, picture this if you can. 12 year old me, surrounded by the who’s who of camp life, even my summer girlfriend, with whom I had promised to never part. I step onto the ledge and take a few tenuous steps. Nothing happens. Everyone’s eyes are on me. I put my hands down, feeling confident that I was now impervious to “the drop”. In fact, so full of swagger was I, that I did a little dance back and forth along the edge, deftly daring it to swallow me whole. For a while, it cowered in fear. I was the supreme ruler of the ledge, the Conquistador of conquering the impossible. But, you know it’s coming right?

Sigh! (Yeah, it’s coming.)

During one of my glorious leaps, I failed to stick the landing. Before I knew what was happening, I heard the fleeting gasp of the crowd, and suddenly I was flailing my arms and legs out to grasp something as my mouth tasted the bitter flavors of dirt and nature. Twigs broke off in my hands, thorns caught my legs and left permanent reminders of my misplaced arrogance. I closed my eyes and just hoped for the best. Just when I thought all hope was gone, I was jolted back into opening my eyes. As I looked up, I saw hands wrapped around my wrists. pulling me back up. Now, here is where it really gets interesting.

As the hands kept pulling and tugging, I felt something behind me trying to keep me held in the clutches of the drop. The deluge of hands kept pulling and eventually were victorious. As I was pulled closer and closer toward my salvation and liberation, I thought that I could hear the distinct sound of a rip in the background, but I was too excited for freedom to be concerned. As I reached the top and looked around the thank my rescuers, they all backed away and began to laugh. Unable to grasp the humor, I gave a shy smile and began to walk off. It was not until I felt the totality of the breeze that I realized that I neither had shorts, nor undies….

The Drop had claimed the day indeed.

So, now that the tale of my ultimate embarrassment has been released from the vaults of time, I have to ask,

“Do you believe me? ”

Until next time!