10/31/2014
Sometimes I think my life is a movie. A real made-for-TV 3-D movie that God wrote for me before
I knew myself. Yes, I know that sounds crazy but, I promise as you read this book you might think I fictionized these past forty-plus years of my life. However, I promise you that it is ALL true even this part, which still seems unreal to me.
That Halloween I woke up to the sounds of the Ghetto Boys playing in my mind. Similar to the song’s lyrics, that year Halloween did fall on a weekend. We had casual at the university that employed me and to celebrate the holiday I decided to wear the Wonder Woman shirt I bought for my nephew’s costume birthday party. This particular Friday began as any other Friday, minimal students were in my office to advise and there was plenty of time to get caught up on work and Google Hangout chat with my boss/friend Angelica.
In honor of the holiday, I wore my red Wonder Woman t-shirt proudly as if I was a black Princess Diana/Linda Carter, a pair of tight skinny jeans to accent my hips, red eyeshadow, and huge silver glittery hoops. I love Wonder Woman and my new earrings from my aunt Karen were a perfect accent on this cloudy day. I figured why not play dress up since no students would see me. Why not play dress up with no judgment being placed on my “youthful” attire?
I haven’t celebrated Halloween since my college days at Truman State University but, my shirt was too cute and, Halloween was the appropriate day to wear it. After work on Fridays, I usually grab a sandwich or bottle of tequila from downtown before catching the 26 South Shore bus to the southeast side of Chicago. However, my money was tight and my bank account was on low because I just paid my rent. While walking to the bus stop, I figured I’d pick up a five-dollar Italian Beef from the store across the street from my apartment and rest all weekend. I needed to chill and just relax until church on Sunday.
This Halloween brought a new kind of windy, creepy, and aggressive feel as I walked to the bus stop on Michigan Avenue. Yeah, I’m from Chicago, The Windy City, but that wind was just as gangsta as the thugs on the corners in my neighborhood. It pushed and shoved me around without my consent. Its gusts shoved me forward, nudging me to get to the bus stop much quicker than usual. As I rode the bus home, I saw the wind attacking Lake Michigan too. Six feet waves lifted to touch the clouds and could be surfer ready if surfing ever happened in Chicago.
It was all new to me. I didn’t recognize any of this weather. Snow and ice, I knew for sure, but whatever this was…seemed unreal or constructed for a movie studio. The bus swiveled and moved wildly over the painted lines on Lake Shore Drive. I was unaware of the dangers this wind would produce but, my stomach growled, and I doubted I’d leave out my apartment to get food later.
It’s crazy how life happens or repeats itself in the weirdest way. When I was in fifth grade I ran into a wall while playing boys vs girls in a game called Hill Dill. I remember wearing gym shorts, a white Texas A&M t-shirt, and a pair of old gym shoes that I wore for cheerleading practice after school.
Our gym teacher, Mr. Holt, stood in the middle of the gym floor facing the girls. "If ONE of you gets passed these boys," pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the 12, maybe 13 boys, "You win and you get to have recess while the boys have no recess and clean the cafeteria next week."
I was excited and knew if I planned it right, I could get past them and win for the girls. We were all about 10ish years old, and the battle of the sexes was fueled by our new sprouting hormones EVERY day. We hated the boys but loved them too. They would hit us on our butts or tender to the touch growing breasts.
While Mr. Holt repeated the rules to the boys, I scanned the gym. I looked to my right and saw a space. I knew the boys would go after the smallest girls first and I also knew which boys would go for the girl that they liked. I saw Elbert, the other chubby kid in the class. I knew I could smoke him and make it to the wall with ease.
I was ready to win.
Mr. Holt blew the whistle and I ran like there was NO tomorrow. I passed a few guys, and when only one was left, Albert, who stood in a football stance expecting to get hit. Similar to the way my brother, Eric, would stand before we began our fake wrestling matches. I planned to dodge his short chubby arms real quick. He wouldn’t catch me, I just knew it as I ran faster.
‘Elbert was nothing to me!’ I thought, 'YES!!! I'm going to win!!! My plan worked! Do it for your girls!!!' I said to myself.
BAMMMMM!!!
Jason, my love/hate crush, hit my back, forcing me toward the gym's brick wall!!!
I remember trying to stop but, I was going too fast and my cheerleading shoes had no grip on their bottoms. I skidded forward and hit the wall so hard that I literally bounced off of it. I landed on my butt a few feet away from my attacker, Mr. Brick Wall.
As I tried to come back to myself and ignore the ringing in my ears, another classmate, John, ran to me screaming, "CRYSTAL, YOU ARE BLEEDING!!"
No one noticed because everyone was yelling and arguing about who won Hill Dill. I looked at John feeling a horrible intense banging pain in my head. Eventually, Mr. Holt came to me and we went to the principal’s office. They called my mom, and she drove me to South Shore Community Hospital. Hours later, I left with 6 stitches replacing my left eyebrow. The mark is still there but a little bigger because of what happened years later on a Halloween Friday.
As I rode the bus home, I thought about what I could afford to eat and eventually decided on a dipped Italian Beef from Jim's, the convenience store in the condo across the street from my place.
THIS is where the crazy began. I got off the 26 and my voyage began. Or should I say my battle against Windy began? The wind was like an animal or a crazy man, vicious and fierce, showing mercy to whoever interfered with its roar. STONG and indescribable are the best words to describe Windy! As I crossed the street, I remember walking towards the lake and it felt like I was walking through wet sand or a solid wall of invisible power.
Eventually, I made it across the street but, things only got worse. I walked towards the building but had to stop and find something to hold on grab on to so I wouldn’t fly away. Even that was difficult. I made it to a gate about a few thousand feet away from the store. I began to repeat His name, "Jesus, Jesus, JESUS!!"
Things got somewhat better, my stomach growled, and I ventured on. ‘Almost there, just gotta pass the garbage bins.’
I pressed and refused to touch the nasty bins, whose metal tops banged up and down like hand puppets yelling at the wind for disturbing their peace. I finally made it to the store, not realizing my coat was ripped open by the wind.
I looked at Mo, the manager, and said, "Man, it's crazy out there!"
I ordered my food. Cracked some jokes and attempted to go home with my dinner. As I failed to open the door, a man behind me opened it for me.
This is where it gets fuzzy because it all happened so fast. I started walking but the moment I took a step or two forward my enemy, the wind, came at me, FULL throttle. Pushing me backward. Honestly, it felt like a super strong man or professional football player was pushing me away from scoring a touchdown.
Just like in fifth-grade gym, I tried to stop myself from going backward but, I was sacked like a Bears’ quarterback. I ended up falling on my butt in a puddle of slushy snow. I got up and decided to just go back to the store. I struggled to get up but ended up on my butt again. This struggle lasted for three more falls until…
SMACK!!
A large cinder block was heading toward my head and I stood in awe not believing this was possible, ‘is that big piece of cement really flyi----"
Just like an ACME weight falls on Wile E. Coyote, the flying cinder clock crashed into my head
BAMM!!!!
I was down again!!! I remembered this feeling the same type of bang from my adolescence. My memory saw John's face yelling, "CRYSTAL YOU ARE BLEEDING????"
I touched my head and felt the blood before I saw it. I struggled to get up. I spoke to the air, "Jesus please let me get to the store so I can call 911."
He let me.
I had no clue how I looked when I entered the store. I knew it was bad because Mo's face showed it all like he saw a breathing Halloween mask.
"Mo, call 911."
He asked me, “What happened?
Again, I said but more firmly, "Mo, call 911." He called.
By this time the store owner, Jim came in. I explained what happened and asked him to call my mom.
I ended up going to South Shore Community Hospital...again. My Mom was the first to arrive. My mom is the best. Followed by my best friend, Joyce (THE best, best friend EVER, you’ll see why later). As they sewed me up, I praised God.
Thank YOU God, for protecting me.Thank YOU God, for keeping my vision intact
I praise YOU, in advance for stopping this needle from hurting
I praise YOU, in advance for no overnight stays. You did it before so I know YOU will do it again.
Tears began to flow from my eyes as I continued.
Lord, I pray for no scars. And if there are scars, I pray it will only make me look prettier
(Yes, I really prayed that.)
Thank You God, for an awesome mother who is there whenever I need her
Thank You God, for these doctors and nurses
Thank You God, for insurance
I thanked Him for some of everything!! I was so grateful for Him being there. When it all ended, I had 8 stitches and a CT scan.
But God, I had no pain, I slept well that night and I had three days off from work the following week. I'm still in shock about all that happened. It still seems so surreal as I reflect and tells people about it. But, it wasn’t until I began writing this book that I realized that God was telling me something and pushing me into my purpose.
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