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Narrative essays on personal experiences
Narrative experience about my life
Personal life experience narrative essay
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In summary, on 09/21/15 at 0418 hours I was patrolling the area of 1600 S. Laramie Ave., at which time I observed a male subject with a youthful appearance walking northbound 16th Street. I made contact with the subject, at which time he identified himself as (Rosas, Alexis DOB 04/21/97). While speaking with Rosas, I detected a strong odor of fresh cannabis emanating from his person. Rosas related he had some cannabis in his sweater pocket. I recovered a silver box containing a green leafy substance from Rosas ' right sweater pocket.
Kansas Bound On May of 2010 I went to Kansas City, MO to see my Grandma. This was my first long car ride since I can remember , nine hours going speed limit. First, we were in the rough side of Kansas, mostly because we lost signal and got lost. We couldn’t look out the side of the window or there was a fifty fifty chance we may or may not get shot.
All my life I have lived in the small town of Walkertown, which is only about twenty minutes away from Winston-Salem. Five years ago Walkertown was small and you had to go to the next town over, Kernersville, if you wanted to go shopping for clothes or go out for dinner. Now, Walkertown is a lot more developed and less rural. However, it is nowhere near as developed as Winston-Salem, especially downtown. Winston-Salem is a built up city with a lot of impervious surfaces.
Like the classic saying has it “You can take the kid out of Brooklyn but you can’t take the Brooklyn out of the kid.” Same goes for Chicago this is my story. I was born in the windy city, on the south side. I wasn’t there for that long I was there till my fifth birthday, and then I moved to Boston, Ma with my mother, sister and I. However, I believe that south side raised me because every winter and summer vacation I would visit my grandmother or as she liked to be called “Mo-Mo” While visiting her I’ve seen some pretty harsh situations.
Mackinac Island. Never thought I would be here, but I was, FOR REAL! We got off the boat and waited for our bikes to come out of the boat. We got our bikes and started our route around the island. We rode about half a mile, when my cousin Andie said she had to go to the bathroom.
One night, during the cold winter, I walked along the side walk to reach the local store down the block. As I walked out, before I can realize it, I was dropping down onto the concrete while bullets swiftly passed me. I then began to run back home, but I wanted to keep running. Away from Chicago, away from the west side. Growing up in Chicago, it was easy to assume that there was nothing different beyond the blocks of my streets.
The summer of 2017 I went with my uncle to Wisconsin Dells. It was my first time going to Wisconsin Dells. There were so many things to experience at the waterpark from the long lines of people, to the many water slides, to the loudness and the smell of chlorine. We arrived at the waterpark at about ten o’clock. There weren 't very many people there.
Getting down to Nebraska was harsh and the trail was dusty. The children like me had to take care of the animals. Jim, Antonia and myself became really good friends after living next door to each other for a while and we do everything together. When I work, I help my dad to plant and harvest crops and hunt for food. We planted and harvested corn, potatoes, pumpkin, wheat, peas, carrots and tomatoes.
Last weekend I had to drive to savanna Illinois to a tiny city named Hanover. Me and my grandpa were driving there to pick up family to come over and spend time with us. It is a hour drive. The drive was not that bad, except for the drive back because the kids in the back were being really annoying, but they were really exited because they don’t get away from home much. On the way there we picked up donuts which were very delightful.
Not everyone has the privileges to know what I’m about to tell you so consider yourself lucky. From what motived me to move to Milwaukee, my passion and my ambitions to succeed in life. Saturday morning like any other Saturday back in 2009, in Glenview a small town just north of Chicago) I woke up at 7:00am to get ready and go to work like any other day, back then I used to work at this restaurant called Yard House, I was a prep cook, my job was to have all the ingredients for the salads ready, from dressings to tortilla chips for the second shift.
The American experience is not unfamiliar to me, I have been visiting America since I was a child and as a child I always wanted to move to America. My first visit here I fell in love with the culture specifically the freedom of expression. However the opportunity did not emerge for me to move to America legitimately and as promising young child, I did not want to damage my future by moving to a country illegally where I could not live to my full potential. I stayed in Jamaica and I completed my University education as a registered nurse and had become comfortable with my life in Jamaica. I started working the spring of 2013 and upon receival of my first paycheck, I was reminded that this is not the place I wanted to be.
We were headed to Minnesota. My mom, my brother and I. We were meeting the rest of my family to begin our so called expedition. Once we go to Minnesota is when the story truly begins. In Minnesota there’s lot to do, lots to see and lots to eat. We however were staying not for long, we boarded a plane and made our way to Italy.
The day was finally here, I was ready. I had all my bags packed ready to go on a new journey of riding a bus for 27 hours to Washington D.C for a Citizenship Washington Focus trip though 4-H. I said goodbye to my mom at the Grainery and hopped into the large van with many other strangers who I will soon realize will become my “family” for the next ten days. As we drove on the interstate we had to stop at Brookings to pick up another passenger before completing the short trip in a van to Sioux Falls. Once we arrived at Sioux Falls we had the chance to eat at Deny’s.
Packing my bags’, knowing a sign that reads “Welcome to Branson” will soon be in front of my eyes, is one of my favorite traditions’. The Isch family only takes this trip every three years, so when I find out that we are going to take the trip, I always get enthusiastic. The consistent hum of tires racing across the road, and the warm sun shining through the windows is enough to generate eyelid’s fall. Before I know it, I am getting shook awake from my brother, either Daniel or Brandon, who is telling me, “We are almost there.” Eyelids’ pop open as we look out the window at the hills and valleys.
This last summer, I went up to visit my grandparents in Kansas to help them on their ranch. For the past four summers I have done this same thing, but this last year was much different. About a week into my trip my grandfather had an accident, he was bucked off a horse in the cattle pens and was seriously hurt. After taking him to the nearest hospital my grandmother and I ended up finding out that he had broken his pelvis along with six ribs. This meant I was going to have to grow up and take on much more responsibility than I was used to and run the day to day operations almost all myself.
