The Nine Lives of Grandpa Terry

Elizabeth Michie
B3

Dear Reader,

There is joke within my family that, although it seems that

my grandfather has nine lives, he is not in fact a feline. As he has
told us stories about his amazingly chaotic and adventure filled
past, my family has been boggled at the fact that he is still alive
today. Some of the stories he tells are scary, others quite
humorous, but they all left me baffled as to how he survived all of
them. So the goal of this project is to let you in on our inside joke.
The genres that you will read are eight close encounters that
my grandpa had with death, where he believed that it was just
pure dumb luck that he did not die. I am completely convinced
after hearing these stories that my grandpa will not be conquered
by death until he says its ok. Listening to these stories growing
up my whole life, I found them exciting and fascinating and that is
why I chose to share them you today.
My Grandpa, Terry Swope, had a childhood that would shame
most others. His first years were spent bouncing from town to
town in the states of Utah and Nevada. That is where the stories
you are about to read take place. Some in Nevada and the
majority being in a little town in Utah called Duchesne. The
genres that you will read will be based between the years 1950
and 1970. This was from when he was three all the way until he
was twenty.
I hope I have done justice in capturing only a fraction of my
grandpas amazing life story. I also hope that my grandpa will be
proud of what I have done and see these tales told on paper.
Someday I hope to have lived a life as dangerous and full of spirit
and adventure as he. Please enjoy.

Elizabeth Michie

The Dip in Deer Creek

The lake is so big and full, Im scared
Im tripping and sliding and rocks are colliding, Im scared
The waters is cold and laps at my thighs, Im scared
It is over my head and in my lungs, Im scared
Kicking and thrashing, Im scared
Choking and drowing, Im scared
Dad please help me I can no longer see, Im scared
Blackness, Im scared

Molotov Cocktail (n) simple gasoline bomb: a crude bomb, usually

made of a bottle filled with a flammable liquid such as gasoline and a
wick that is set alight just before it is thrown
mollotov cocktail

Molotov Cocktail (n) a form of adolescent recklessness that when

executed poorly could result in catching on fire and having ones face
melt off.
mollotov cocktail

Miracle

(n) amazing event: an event or action that is amazing,

extraordinary, or unexpected
miracle

Miracle (n) a circumstance in which one has caught on fire and had
their face burned off and have lived to tell the tale without a single
scar.
miracle

The Right of Way

Terry Im really sorry, Stan.
Stan Ah, thats alright. You coulda told me you didnt know how to ride a bike though.
Terry Shut up! I do too! That hill was just a monster and your brakes dont work.
Stan They did before you rode my bike into a truck!
Terry Nah I didnt ride it into a truck. Just caught the front of it crossing that
intersection over there. Thought I was done for Ill tell you that.
Stan Howd you manage to destroy my bike, but you barely even have a scratch on you.
After flying, what, a good 30 feet?
Terry If I knew Id tell you. Just dumb luck I spose. You shoulda seen it though! I
thought that driver was gonna have a heart attack.
Stan Well no kidding! I wouldve!! Im surprised you didnt or at least wet yourself.
Terry You know me! Itd take more than a bike accident to piss myself.
They both laugh at this.
Stan Man you could be dead right now.

Terry shrugs and pauses

Terry Thats my mom calling me for supper. I should go. Ill get you the money for your
bike soon as I can.
He turns and starts walking home.
Stan (shouting) Dont get hit by another truck on your way back!!
Terry looks over his shoulder and gives an irritated eye roll.

My Brothers Keeper
Pulling up to the scene, all I can make out clearly is a great cloud of
dust. Getting closer now, I see a tire here, scraps of metal there. Then the
car, groaning on its side, wheezing as smoke escapes the engine. Instinct
takes over as I hear the car door open and slam shut and my own feet

crunching on the dirt road. Someone is screaming. Now lapping the car,
looking for a way in, no one is moving. God. What idiots. They shouldve
known. Going ninety on a dirt road? What was the other option here? Then
there is gasping and choking coming from the front of the wreck that draws
my attention. Immediately my heart races as I take him in. Head through the
windshield, his face almost unrecognizable, and shards of glass everywhere,
but what is most noticeable is the pool of blood that is rapidly growing on his
shirt and the fountain that is gushing from his neck. There is no time to think.
Soon my own shirt is off and stopping the flow of blood. Pressure. Apply
pressure. This slows the flow from his neck, but by no means stops it. He is
slipping in and out of consciousness as I hear my own voice pleading for
someone unknown for help. Praying for when Ill see the lights and hear the
blaring sirens. Please let them come he wont make it much longer. I look
down at my slippery red hands as a thought crosses my mind, It wouldve
been me

WANTED!
Tractor weights. The cultivator I use is not heavy
enough to move dirt around. In need of someone to
come sit on it while I plow the fields. Easy work. No
payment offered.
Very dangerous work. Personal risks include
getting foot or arm caught in machinary. It is also
possible that you could be bounced off and fall
under the cultivator. This would cause serious injury
and maybe death. I need anyone brave enough to
try this. The fields wont plow themselves. Anyone

interested will find me on a tractor on the Cowans

property.

Recipe for Disaster

Thin Ice
No, Im definitely taller than you. Terry, tell him Im taller I argue, Terry,
tell him! There is silence. My brother is laughing and shaking his head, He
knows Im the taller one. Right, Terry? Still there is silence I look back
wondering why he is now so silent. I grab Rogers arm and whip him around.
A good ten feet behind us there is a large hole in the ice. The river water is
running out of the gap. His head pops out of the water for a few gasps of air
and then the current has pulled him under again. I panic and begin to lunge
forward, searching for a rope, a stick, anything at all, but Roger grabs my
arm, We wont be of much help if the ice cracks and we go under too. I turn
back towards the cut in the ice, waiting for him to imerge again, trying to
think of a way to get him up and out. Hes going to die. The water is freezing.
The current must have got him. Hes not going to come back up. These
thoughts race through my mind as the seconds roll away. It is amazing how
relative time can be and in moments like this, a minute is an eternity that
will age you beyond your years. Terrys arm flys out of the water and catches
the edge of the hole. He is gasping and panting as he pulls himself out.
Chunks of ice cling to his dripping clothes as he starts toward us, warm
breath making clouds in front of his face at a rapid pace. He shoots us a look
of anger and says, Thanks for the help guys. Ya know, much appreciated!
and stomps of shivering. I stare in awe and shock as I watch him march down
the river, shivering his way home.

End Notes

A Dip In Deer Creek This poem is based off of when my grandpa was 3
years old and he slipped into Deer Creek Reservoir. He did not know how to
swim and almost drowned. This poem was meant to show his emotions at
the time. The poem ends on a note of uncertainty, but his father did in fact
save him.
Molotov Cocktail When my grandpa was about 16, he and his two best
friends, the Cowan twins, decided to make Molotov cocktails. It went horribly
wrong and my grandpa ended up catching on fire and all the skin on his face
was gone. He believes he shouldve died or been more seriously injured. But
as usual he was fine.
A Tree With a View My grandpa was 6 and wanted to climb a 60 foot tree to
have a good view but he slipped and fell. On the way down, he hit a branch
that slowed down his fall and made him hit the ground with less speed. He
got up and walked home completely unharmed that day. He wouldve died if
it werent for that branch.
The Right of Way This is dialogue between my grandpa and his neighbor
discussing the time he almost got hit with a truck on his neighbors bike. He
narrowly missed the truck, but was still thrown quite a ways. He stood up
and was fine that day too, but his parents were furious that he wrecked his
friends bike.
My Brothers Keeper This is told from my grandpas point of view. It is a
story of when his friends got into a car accident in a car that he had been
riding in only minutes earlier. He managed to save someones life that day
and the memory has haunted him ever since.
Wanted! This is a want ad from the point of view of an older brother of the
Cowan twins that had my grandpa sit on his cultivator to help plow his field.
While my grandpa was doing this, he got knocked off and the cultivator went
over him. Only god knows how he survived with only a couple scratches.
Recipe for Disaster This recipe was meant to set up the scenario in which
my grandpa was almost shot in the chest with a shot gun. It happened how it
was described in the recipe. A lot of it was just his friend being carless and
the gun was just waiting to be bumped right. It was luck that he wasnt shot.
Thin Ice This is told from the point of view of one of the Cowan twins.
According to my grandpa, while they were walking on a frozen river, he fell in
and they didnt help him get out in fear that they would fall in too. I wanted
to write it from the friends point of view to maybe explain why they didnt
help him.