This story takes place in Spring Valley, NY in 1999. I’ve been involved with this girl on and off since Junior High School. She’s half black/Puertorican, 5’2, long black hair, with a caramel complexion and her name is Arianny Delahoz. Once we graduated Junior High School we grew further apart leading us to date other people. That’s when I met Lina Orellana from Equator. Lina and I met through a mutual friend and immediately we had this connection that was indestructible. I was Lina’s first in every which way possible making her so called love for me influential. Arianny heard Lina and I was dating and took actions of her own. She began dressing lady like which attracted my attention. After school one day I made a drastic decision that would change my life forever.

I left school with Arianny and from a distance Lina saw us leave together.

Without saying goodbye or telling LIna I was done with our relationship, I began dating Arianny again. Years went by and Arianny gave birth to my beautiful son Shawn Charles Brown. A few years after my son was born, Arianny and I had our differences. We ended our relationship for good, due to the fact she cheated on me. Instantly I assumed that was karma for not ending my relationship with Lina the appropriate way.

Ten years later I’ve always wondered how things would be if I stayed with Lina. Something strange happened one day and I was shocked. I bumped into Lina in Manhattan, NY. We talked, laughed, and shared our feelings about the past. Apologies were thrown in every direction from my end and she forgave me. After my previous relationship that ended in a disaster, I met another female from Israeli. Her name is Samantha Haghnazari and she’s 5’5, long black hair, tan complexion and her body is amazing. Sam was completely different than any other female I’ve ever dated, but seeing Lina again made me feel as I did when we first met back in high school. Her and I began being intimate while I was currently dating Sam. I felt guilty and brushed Lina off just like I did in High school. We ended our little fling and then a few years later Sam and I broke up. Lina and I bumped into each other again but now she was involved with someone. She began being intimate with me while she had a boy friend. Lina wanted me to be with me exclusively, but I couldn’t because I still had feelings for Sam. Sam and I eventually got back together, but Lina and I was still sleeping with each other. At this point I have a girl friend and Lina has a boyfriend. We realized no matter what happened between us in the past we always found each other and ended up sleeping with each other. We ended our relationships and now she and I are together as it should’ve been back in 1999.

When I was in high school, all the cool kids hitchhiked. Girls would stand on the side of the two-lane highway, the sun-browned-S of their hips thrust out along with their thumbs.

The sight of these girls sent my mother into paroxysms of rage.

“If I ever, EVER, catch you hitchhiking, I’ll rip out your heart,” my mother would say, jabbing a finger at my chest. “Before some maniac does it first!”

“Oh, Tammy,” my father would sigh. He was a happy-go-lucky sort, always with a smile and a kind word. It drove my mother nuts.

“All I’m saying,” she’d insist, “is that a young girl on the side of the road? Anything can happen! Anything!”
And turning my head to watch as we passed these girls, laughing, jostling each other for space, I’d think…yeah, but isn’t that the point?

When I turned 18, I moved from my home in California to Hawaii. I was on my own, and eager to test the waters.
Still, standing on the side of the road on that sunny October afternoon, I was nervous. What if my mom was right? What if one stupid mistake could ruin your whole life?

But after a minute, a truck slowed, and then stopped. The driver was about my age, with shaggy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a sweet, sleepy, smile.

As if on cue, I could hear my mother’s voice, low and ominous, “Ted Bundy looked like the prom king too…”
But the surfboard in back, NPR on the radio, and the Buddha affixed to the dash all told me this guy was harmless.
I wasn’t going far, and we chatted amiably – we were both 18 and we were both from California, though I was from San Francisco and he was from L.A.

When we reached the filling station near my house, I thanked him and climbed out, feeling oddly elated. I’d done it! I’d hitchhiked! And not only that, but I’d lived to tell about it!

I was about halfway across the parking lot when I heard the guy shout something. I turned, and saw that he was smiling, clearly excited.

“Hey…San Francisco, right?”

I nodded, feeling something quicken in my chest.

“They just had an earthquake! The guy on the radio said some freeway collapsed.” He laughed, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. “Like a billion people are dead!”

It’s funny how sometimes you just know. Not the particulars maybe – not that my father was on that freeway, and certainly not that he was dead – but simply that life as you’ve known it has already changed.

As I walked to the pay phone and numbly punched in my parent’s phone number, it occurred to me that my mother was right. Sometimes, the Boogieman has the loveliest smile. And if you stand on the side of the road with your thumb out, anything can happen. Anything at all.

This story comes from Kelly Simmons.

I am a writer who struggled to be published for over 15 years. One day, after my then-agent had summoned me to New York in near blizzard conditions, only to reject my latest book, I headed back to Penn Station at the lowest point in my career. Her hollow words rang in my ears, “Maybe you just need to write something more personal.” Please, I thought; my third-grade writing teacher could have given me that advice.

At the station, I waited for my delayed train and ruminated over my diastrous meeting when someone sat down next to me. I turned and saw Tom Wolfe, wearing an all-white suit, white overcoat, and white spats. At 2 pm, on a Thursday, in the middle of a freaking snowstorm.

I smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation, but before I could even think if there was anything I should say to him or ask him, my train was called. As we pulled away from the station, I decided it was a sign. Tom Wolfe was published late in life — and I would be too. I told myself I was going to come up with a new plot for a new book during the train ride — before I got to Philadelphia, I would know what to write.

And you know what? I did. And within two months, I had a new agent and a book deal. (Standing Still, published by Simon & Schuster)

Tom Wolfe, angel in white.

www.bykellysimmons.com

This story was submitted by Sue Hannibal of Fayetteville, NC.

In September of 2006, the coordinator of our upcoming 35th high school reunion at Kenmore East HS in Tonawanda NY (outside Buffalo) screwed up the reunion website email so that for about 3 days, all of us who had registered were getting slammed with all the emails of our classmates instead of the emails going to the site.

I happened to see an email written to  the group by a classmate that I never met, (checked him out in the yearbook) and his military signature line indicated he was an Army officer stationed at Ft. Bragg. At the time, I was living in Vista, CA, north of San Diego.

I was and still am in private practice as an intuitive healer specializing in the treatment of childhood abuse/trauma and combat PTSD. I sent him a quick note to say that I didn’t remember ever meeting him in HS,  but that if he had any PTSD or trauma from his service in Iraq, I would be happy to treat him for free over the phone. I referred him to my web site, and immediately regretted it because I figured that a conservative military officer would take one look at a medical intuitive clairvoyant healer and probably think I was a witch or something.

To my surprise, he did call the next day and we started chatting. Almost immediately, he said the word “ambush” and got triggered. His voice got louder, he was breathing hard and I could sense his distress. I said, “you’re in it.. do you want a sample of this healing stuff I do? All you have to do is repeat what I say and tap with your fingertips on the release points where I tell you.” He said, “OK, let’s do it.”

Knowing only that he was ambushed, I led him through a healing procedure to release the terror, anger, anxiety, etc. inherent in that experience. It took about 5 minutes of acupressure tapping, ie ” Iraq–the ambush–they tried to kill me– they tried to kill all of us–I thought I was going to die that day– but I didn’t die– they didn’t get me that day– all of a sudden they were everywhere– they hit us, etc. ”

After 5 minutes of tapping, (see YouTube from 2004, title Erase Combat PTSD with EFT) we stopped and after a moment he said, ” do you mean to tell me that I’ve been going to the VA twice a week for 2 years for nothing? It’s gone. What did you do to me?”  His anxiety and explosive anger over that ambush and the death of a good friend was released and has not returned.

He came out to San Diego to meet me over Christmas/New Years 2007. We fell in love and were married in August 2007. So far, we’re living happily ever after. He is going to deploy to Afghanistan in January 2010 and I am continuing to treat combat vets for PTSD.

I spent one year going out on blind dates in order to find The One. I was 35, recently out of a broken engagement, and ready to get married. I spent one lugubrious year slogging thru date after date, and finally, I met the guy. Or so I thought…

Date 77 was with a linguistics professor who had quite an impressive resume. Solomon was so inviting and inclusive and just … warm. It was so good to be in his presence and surrounded by his sexiness. I was like a walking grilled-cheese sandwich, all gooey and soft. I imagined that lying in his arms would be like resting in a jar of marshmallow crème.

His cell phone rang. Thirty seconds later, he was gone. An emergency took him away. Fate dragged him off. I stood there in my black boots with the rain misting softly on my hair, and almost started to cry, yet I was overcome with the feeling that I would never again have to add to my blind dating list that was only growing out to nowhere. I decided to celebrate with a taco and a beer.

But here’s the catch: I never saw Solomon again. When leaving the restaurant, I heard a voice say, “Call Michael Potts.” I quickly turned around to see if someone I knew was behind me playing a joke on me, but there was no one there. But I’d heard the voice. I had heard my mother’s voice before, it’s just hard to recognize when it speaks to me.

Michael Potts was a younger guy who I currently worked with in the funeral industry. More specifically, he worked for my company, and I had met him a month or so earlier in the lobby of a funeral home while we both were presiding over a funeral service. I didn’t like him when we met. He became real annoying and never would get the hint that I just wasn’t that into him!

So here I was, standing outside my favorite taqueria, hearing a voice that told me to call some guy who I could swear that I would never call in a million years. But I am a woman of faith, so in about a minute I called, he answered, and couldn’t believe I was really phoning him. Yeah, neither could I.

We talked all night. It was funny, but he said everything I wanted to hear, and so sweetly and genuinely. I brushed him off after one conversation, and if fate hadn’t intervened, who knows how my future dates would have played out.

About three weeks into dating he said, “I am not the marrying kind. I’ve never wanted to get married before, but I’ll tell you something. If our relationship is this good in a year from now, I am asking you to marry me.”

One year later we were married, and are now parents to a beautiful baby girl.