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356 days ago
'I knew she was trying to kill me.’ This is a story of two horses, one a jet-black mare called Midnight - some would call her a ‘devil horse’ - and the other, my favourite, a gentle six-year-old palomino called Amber. Shortly after my husband, John, had bought Midnight, I went out to work with her. I led her out, locked the stable door behind me, and proceeded to saddle and mount her. Midnight was nervous. She skittered. Within seconds she became violent. She reared and threw me to the ground; then went berserk, rushing wildly about the yard. Suddenly she headed back towards me at full gallop, teeth bared. Already in great pain from a shattered neck joint, unable to move, I knew she was trying to kill me, to stomp me to death. ‘Lord, Lord!’ I screamed, but there was no one near to hear. No one human, that is. Unbelievably, Amber came charging out of the stable. She hurled herself at Midnight, savaging her with her teeth. Midnight retreated, ...364 days ago
I got off to an early start. Before my first appointment, I took a friend to Kansas City International Airport and drove back by my usual route. Approaching the fork where I would turn left, I was in the left of four lanes. Then my car began to move right, almost involuntarily, as if someone had taken the wheel from my hand and was steering for me. I spoke to myself out loud, saying, “Why did you do that?” as I continued to drive along. My white suit was perfect for this beautiful summer day. Knowing my tendency to speed in good weather, I put on my cruise control and enjoyed the scenery. I continued down the highway, singing, when a voice in my head said, “Slow down,” I looked at my speedometer and saw I was only going sixty mph, so I thought, I’m fine, and waved my hand dismissively. A moment later, a voice that sounded as if it came from the back seat yelled. “Slow down!” Startled, I slammed on my brakes, which brought me to a near stop. I had just enough time ...704 days ago
An explorer discovers something unique Mungo Park, the explorer, one day was stranded alone in an African wilderness. Nearly dead from hunger, thirst and exhaustion, he decided there was no hope for survival and stretched out on the ground to await death. But then a small flower of exceptional beauty caught his eye. He said, ‘though the whole plant was no larger than one of my fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, leaves, and capsules without admiration.’ ‘can the /being who planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern upon the situation and suffering of creatures formed after His own imagine? Surely not.’ he started out again, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, travelled forward until he reached safety. By Jamie bliss ford718 days ago
Miracle in a wall of flames Seeing a car wreck on the six o’clock news is one thing, but being there at the scene of the accident is another. In seventeen years as a paramedic I’ve witnessed every kind of horror. We learn to expect the worst. Our real nightmare is fire. Paramedics are not fire fighters. We’re trained - among other things - to rescue survivors from a vehicle and treat their injuries first, but if a car is in flames, it’s a non-stop emergency. You just have to hope God’s with you because there’s not one moment to pray. My partner Tim and I prided ourselves on suiting up in less than thirty seconds: protective pants and coat, helmet and fire-resistant gloves. One October afternoon in 1993 an urgent call came over the radioed: “Two-vehicle collision. Ferguson Road.’ ‘Let’s go!’ yelled Tom. We responded to the call. Tom had his gear on before we left the station. Mine was still stowed in a bag in the ambulance. Tom climbed into the driver’s ...723 days ago
A young army private experiences an astonishing new world that changes his life forever When I was sent to the base hospital at Camp Barkeley, early in December 1943, I had no idea I was seriously ill. I’d just completed basic training, and my only thought was to get on the train that would take me to medical school as part of the Army’s doctor-training programme. It was an unheard of break for a private, and I wasn’t going to let a chest cold cheat me out of it. But days passed and I didn’t get better. It was 19 December before I was moved to the recuperation wing, where a jeep was to pick me up at 4 o’clock the following morning to drive me to the station. A few more hours and I’d make it! Then about 9.00 p.m. I began to run a fever. I went to the sister and begged some aspirin. Despite the painkiller, my head throbbed, and I’d cough into the pillow to smother the sounds. At 3.00 p.m. I decided to get up and dress. The next half-hour is a blur for me. I ...
