How many of us have lived through situations that would have readers saying, "No way," if they read it in a book? Or at least, how many of us have lived things that would make a great book (not too depressing, I hope)?
Here's mine (probably my one and only, I might add):
When I was a senior in college (the first senior year, hehe), there was a huge blizzard in March. Not that rare, but it started out strangely. When I drove to the RTD (bus) stop in the morning, there was slush on the roads, and snow was barely falling. I had a later class that day, getting out at 5:30. Before that class, I noticed there were a couple of inches of snow on the ground -- but no biggie. By the end of that class, however, snow was falling heavily. I waited at the busstop across from campus, worried when the bus was over 30 minutes late. A friend of mine and I had to stand in the aisle, all the way at the back of the bus.
Normally it took the bus five minutes to get out of town -- 45 minutes later, we still hadn't made it to the highway. As we waited in traffic, I counted how many people were crammed on the bus; it was well over the limit listed on the sign at the front.
We finally made it onto the highway, only to realize that the road conditions there were even worse. By now, the snow was falling so heavily that we could only see a few feet in front of us. It piled up on the roads -- I'm guessing close to six inches. Cars were spinning out of control all over the place, and soon the four-lane highway had no real lanes, at all. We crept along, and by the time we made it within a mile and a half of the park-n-ride where my car waited, policemen stopped the bus (not hard, since we were barely moving) and said that no one would be continue on.
I couldn't stand the idea of turning around, so I got off the bus (along with my friend). The bus driver couldn't stop us, as we were both over 18, though he did caution us and say it wasn't a smart idea. So we got off and struggled through drifts over two feet deep. We walked for over a mile to reach the park-n-ride...yeah, we thought we'd be able to drive from there
By the time we reached the lot, our cars were buried, and everywhere around us was a white, silent world. It was close to 9 pm by then (I'd gotten on the bus around 6:30). We didn't know what to do (before cell phones, btw).
About ten minutes later, a jeep slid into the lot -- it was a sheriff. He took us to the nearest shelter (a church), where we'd have to spend the night and maybe longer, depending on the road situation. Everyone got one phone call (why did I think I was in jail?), and when I made mine, my mom said that my dad had left, searching for me. I told her where I was, in case he called back. Then I told her I'd go outside the church regularly so he could see me (as I didn't know the exact street I was on -- it wasn't my town; just a stop on the route between my town and my college town).
Believe it or not (ha), my dad managed to find me. He took my friend home first, and although we weren't really driving on roads (because we couldn't see any of the boundaries by then), the only time we almost got stuck was in my friend's neighborhood. But we made it, and I got home before midnight -- barely! The next day we learned about the hundreds of people trapped in shelters around the city. The roads looked like white parking lots with many bumps for the covered cars. When we finally we able to get my car -- about three days later -- the snow was higher than the door handle.
Okay, so what's your story?