The stories of HeroicStories.
by Mia Shinbrot
British Columbia, Canada
My old desk chair slanted forward and to the left from many, many years of use by the summer of 2004. I’d been badly in need of a new desk chair for some time and looking for one I could afford. I don’t have much money, so that limits what I can buy.
by Bill Roberson
USA
As a child growing up in scenic Portland, Oregon, my most favorite activity was bicycle riding. My friends and I looked with great envy on people with motorcycles, who rode without pedaling! And motorcycles were the ultimate expression of cool.
by Rosemary Place
New York, USA
A few years ago, my family and I were driving home from our vacation in Florida to our home in upstate New York. At about 9 p.m. after driving all day, we stopped at a Wendy’s restaurant in South Carolina. We were already exhausted from driving, but still had a long way to go before we reached the hotel in Virginia where we had reservations for the night.
by James Schrader
New York, USA
In 1974 my college roommates, Steve, Craig, and I drove to Yonkers from upstate New York to take Steve home for spring break. Returning, Craig and I took toll-free roads to conserve funds.
by The Caroler
California, USA
In 1990, as was our family tradition, my husband and I invited children from the local high school aCappella choir, including our son, to sing Christmas Carols to people we felt could use some special Christmas cheer. My husband dressed up as Santa Claus and drove a rented flat bed truck.
by Lisa Swindler
South Carolina, USA
In 1998, a week before Thanksgiving, I took our 10-month-old baby daughter to the doctor for a check-up. The nurse commented how well she looked. Fifteen minutes later we were headed to the hospital emergency room. Ruth’s oxygen level was below 90 and she was having difficulty breathing. It was her fourth hospitalization that year.
By Patty Mooney
California, USA
It’s been many years since I have had to stand on the end of Pusheck Road in Bellwood, a suburb of Chicago, waiting for the school bus, and yet I remember one special day as though it were yesterday.
by Jeff Simms
Barnegat, New Jersey, USA
It was a nippy Fall day — our favorite kind of weather. It was Saturday and we were going to have a great time. My divorced mother, two younger brothers and I were on our way to the park at the other end of the small Jersey town we lived in. We had our football and makeshift goal posts in the back of the station wagon and our teams already chosen: us against our mother. (Don’t worry, it was only touch football.)
By L. Harding
California, USA
It was 1972. “The Summer of Love” was gone, hippies were a rare sight, but there were still large pockets of narrow minds, filled with distrust, in rural America. More than once we met with proof of that in our travels across “the heartland of America.” Our only home was our tent, our only “real furniture” the baby’s crib, all piled atop the TravelAll. My husband and I were down on our luck, moving from one temporary job to another.
By Glen Burnie
Maryland, USA
Friday, October 5th, 2001, was not shaping up to be a good day. My wife and I were already running late leaving for a trip to Pennsylvania, and she still had to stop at work for an errand. To compound our lateness, security at her office had drastically increased since September 11th, 2001. The guards wanted to search our vehicle and unpack our luggage. That would take quite some time and I objected wholeheartedly. We avoided the search by letting her walk through the gate while I sat in the car outside the facility.