Barbara Burgess

Hello, this is Barbara. Writer, Podcaster, Wellness Coach.

Menu Close

Page 8 of 14

The First Trip You Remember

*I know you aren’t supposed to let people see your poopy first drafts, but I took a writing class on Saturday in which I wrote two short essays (first drafts).  Here is one written from this prompt – Write about the first trip you remember taking.

I remember it was sticky hot when we loaded the truck bed with blankets, books, and a battery powered radio with a cassette in both decks.

Jessica and I crawled over the tailgate and took our places.  The tailgate slammed and the engine started.  We were 12 years old.  We were hitting the road to North Carolina.

While I am certain we stopped for food and bathroom breaks, I remember none.  I do remember a hotel room with orange coverlet and smoke stained blinds.

I also remember the only outing we made in North Carolina:  A trip to Myrtle Beach.

Jessica was stoked.  She was self-confident in her swim attire and eager to jump into the ocean despite the fact that clouds, sands, and waters were gray and dingy.

I walked into the water until it hit my knees. A wave hit me, and I froze.

It was the first time I had seen the ocean.

Jessica was one with jellyfish bobbing in and out of waves without fear.

No sooner did a second wave strike my knees did my dad shout, “Okay.  Let’s go.”

Emily looked confused.

We had seen the ocean.  We set out to do a thing, and we did it.  Now, we were done, and it was time to go back home.

Jessica grimaced the whole ride back to Nashville.  I had no idea why.

I would not visit North Carolina again until my early thirties.  I did not visit the ocean.  I had already seen it.


If you all decide to use the prompt and write a little blog post about the first trip you remember, I would love to read them.  You can link me to your posts via the comments section below.

Do You BookTube

I shared this link on my Book blog.  Enjoy!

I Love BookTube

A Series of Mugs from My Trip from East to West

We can take care of ourselves as a country until we have a government that knows how to help us. – Sarah Jones

Status Update

Up since 4a.m.  Only productive enough to make coffee.  YouTube took the rest.

Yesterday, I learned that a friend’s dad got jumped at Nashville Shores.

Apparently, it went down like this:

Friend’s dad was having a problem with the parking pass that he had purchased.  The car full of twenty-somethings behind him grew impatient.  They got out of their car and approached his car which contained in it not only himself but his wife and grandkids.

The impatient guys asked him what the problem was in a threatening tone.  After a few rage fueled words were exchanged, the guys returned to their car, and the parking pass worked.

After friend’s dad dropped off his wife at the front building, he noticed the car that was previously behind him in line was still behind him.  He was being followed.

He stopped and rolled down the window and asked the fellas if there was going to be a problem.  Right then and there, the guys jumped him in front of his grandchildren who were still locked in seatbelts in the backseat.

They beat him badly.  They put him in the hospital. All over parking.

When I heard this, I cried.  I cried for my friend.  I cried for those kids.  I cried for the man’s wife.  I cried for the loss of humanity.  I cried for the stupidity that those guys probably inherited from their so-called fathers, men masquerading as fathers.

Has it always been this way?  Did I just not know?

All the times that I’ve walked to my car alone at night without a care in the world…

I am trained, but I don’t know if I could take down four 20 year old guys.

This was not meant to be a Father’s Day post, but it looks like that is what it is becoming.  So, here it is:

If you had a good childhood, and your dad taught you better than to lose your patience over parking, maybe give the guy a call if you can.

If you can’t, then participate in life in a way he would expect you to.  Speak on behalf of those who can’t.  Donate when you can. Feed someone less fortunate than you.

Be excellent to each other.