From the very onset of my life, the great outdoors have surrounded me.  As a child, I climbed the highest trees, crossed the highest trees, crossed the wildest rivers, and ventured into what I believed to be the deepest forests.  My curiosity drove me further and further, where no other child dared to go.  The slightest breeze, roaring like a mighty lion, carried away my fears.  Nature provided me with all I needed to live--food water, and peace.  Often on hot summer days, I would lay staring up at the clouds overhead letting my imagination fun free.  Similarly, late at night, I would gaze out my window into the quite abyss of stars, marveling at the great magnitude God had created.
    August 15, 1999 is a day that will forever be echoed in the recesses of my mind.  It was a day I returned my childhood and let nature inspire me, only to discover my true respect for nature.  Stephanie and I embarked on a road trip to Nelsonville the day before; we wanted on last visit Paul before school started.   I had heard about a state park in the area that was known for its mammoth caves and death-defying trails that jutted out on cliffs away from the hillside.  I begged Stephanie and Paul to take me there; I promised them a day they would never forget.
    It was a perfect summer day.  The wind whistled with a cool summer breeze, the sun shone brightly, and I saw it as perfect opportunity to have one last adventure with my college-bound friends.  Paul and I ran ahead on the path around Old Man's Cave.  Stephanie, not an outdoorswoman, slowly followed behind.  Huge rock formations were gouged out of the stone walls.  I crawled inside a cave that was a mere three and a half feet high; I scared some visiting Chinese.  I was having the time of my life.  The outdoors was invigorating, and my soul was renewed.  As we continued our trip around Hocking valley, I continually scared Paul and Stephanie with my antics by crawling as close to the edge of the cliffs as possible,  occasionally going so far as to dangle my feet over the edge.
    As we rounded the path to Conkle's Hollow, they made me promise to behave as we passed a sign that read, "Danger--Please stay on the trail, this waterfall plunges 95 feet to the hollow floor.  Hazardous footing and slippery rocks have resulted in serious injuries and deaths here.  Don't become a statistic."  I emptily promised to behave and do as the sign commanded.  The path went up a steep incline to the upper rim of the hollow.  The view was breathtaking.  The sky was clear, and I could plainly see across the canyon.  It looked like a forested view of the Grand Canyon.  I took us nearly an hour to get halfway around the rim.  The second half of the trail was more forested.  With the onset of autumn, the ground was covered with an array of brightly colored leaves.  A huge rock formation stood in front of me.  It had been gouged out, cut away from the rock wall and with time formed a zigzag.  Mesmerized, I could see the layers upon layers of sediment that had formed this monstrosity millions of years ago.
    I took a step closer to the edge.  I straddled my legs over a large branch that had fallen on the ground.  I could hear a blue jay tweeting in a tree behind me; some squirrels ran in and out of the oak trees to my right.  Paul and Stephanie continued on ahead of me; however, something beckoned me to stay where I was.  I paused briefly before turning to catch up.  And suddenly, I fell.
    I lay on one of the cliff's ledges.  I blinked my eyes in disbelief.  I remembered a dream where I had fallen like this.  At the time, I had disregarded it, never believing that it would happen.  I was laying on my left side, the wind entirely knocked out of my body.  I struggled to breath with on success;  I could only suck dusty air into my lungs.  Overhead I heard Stephanie and Paul frantically yelling.  My lungs were on fire,  and I tried with no success to yell back.  What seemed like an eternity passed before a quiet moan arose from my lips.  I continued to groan until the soft whisper grew into a loud expression of pain.  I finally caught my breath and tried to yell until the soft whisper grew into a loud expression of pain.  I finally caught my breath and tried to yell up to them, but a sharp pain in my chest made it difficult.  My sentences were short and broken.  They told me not to move.  They would get help.  I slowly sat up any ways.
    My left hand lay limp on my side.  I looked down and grabbed my fingers.  Thank God, they moved, but I could not move my arm.  I tried to pick up my shoulder, but my arm lay motionless at my side.  Half afraid of what I would find, I reached over and grabbed my upper arm.  A lump the size of a softball was there.
    Paul was above me on top of the formation I had been staring at when I fell.  He told me there was not way they would ever be able to get down to me.  He asked me here I was hurt.  I told him I had a huge lump in my arm and thought it was broken.  Paul reassured me it was not; instead, it was just a "pinched nerve."  I highly doubted this, but I had always been told that when you break a bone the pain was unbearable.  My arm did not hurt at all; in fact, other than being slightly dazed, I felt fine.  Paul asked me if I saw any way I could get to the lower rim trail.  From where I sat, it looked like I could.  I bent over, struggling to stand on two feet, holding my injured arm up with the other hand.  I stood up feeling incredibly lightheaded.  I fumbled down the hill a few feet.  Stephanie yelled at me to be careful.  I walked about twenty feet, and I sharp pain hit my spine.  I felt as if someone was stabbing me in the back.  The pain was almost unbearable.  I looked up to find a jumbled pile of rocks in front of me.  There was not way I could climb them one handed.  I stumbled backwards a few feet and fell to my knees.  I leaned back on a flat rock, out of sight.
    "Mary, Mary! I heard my friends yell.
    "Right here," I called back.
    "What's wrong?"
    "My back...it hurts..and I can't climb these rocks."
    "Hold on," Stephanie called. "Paul's running for help."
    I could hear them whispering; I then heard footsteps that began to fade in the distance.  Stephanie yelled, "Mary, stay awake!  Don't close your eyes! Count trees or branches..anything.  Don't fall asleep."  I counted the tree limbs in front of me.  Every time I paused, Stephanie called my name to make sure I was still awake.  When I ran out of trees I counted to fifty repeatedly.  With each set my eyelids grew heavier and my voice softer.  Breathing became hard again; it felt like a huge weight was pushing on my chest.  Stephanie stayed with me, calling occasionally to make sure I was still awake.  Centuries passed by.
    My mouth was dry and raspy.  Dirt and dust were stuck in my mouth and on my lips.  I thought I was going to die of thirst before anyone could come and save me.  A middle-aged couple came by, and when Stephanie told them what had happened, they immediately set off through the woods to the highway that they said was a mile away.  Time crept on.  Stephanie tried to encourage me to keep counting until I reminded her it was just like counting sheep before you go to bed.  A group of men in their twenties came by; they asked me if I was okay.  I told them yes, except that I was dying of thirst.  They tried to lower a water bottle to me, but I was to far away and the rope was too short.
    I suddenly heard a multitude of voices behind me.  I had my back to the cliff, so I could not see what was going on.  The rescue rescue squad was here.  The cliff was entirely too steep, and they could not climb down it.  They had to repel down the cliff.  Doug was the first one down.  I told him what happened.  He asked me for my name and age.  He was very concerned over whether or not I had lost conscience; I told him I had not.  I tried to explain that I had not fallen here, but when I turned to point toward the spot I had fallen from, he yelled at me and told me to sit very still.  He warned I could be seriously injured.  Despite my testimony that I was all right and had walked to where I was, he took the greatest precautions with me.
    He had me lay down and rolled me onto a backboard.  He had to tie off his rope line because unbeknownst to me, there was another 90 foot drop-off a few feet from where I had sat down.  A park ranger, Kris Kramer repelled down.  She gave me oxygen and tied me to the backboard.  They took off my shoes.  I immediately got the chills and went into shock.  They put a space blanket around me, the kind the astronauts use.  I was like being wrapped in aluminum foil.  I quickly warmed up.  They check my legs and arms and confirmed my belief that my arm was indeed broken.  I lay there for a while as the checked the ropes.  With my arms no longer free I could not adjust the oversized oxygen mask that continued to creep on my face, cutting into my eyes, blinding my vision.
    A third rescue worker repelled down to help them lift me in the basket and pull me up the cliff.  I was suddenly lifted up vertically, and after lying on my back so long and digesting numerous leaves, the sudden rush of blood away from my head make me physically ill.  I begged them to take the blanket off.  I was too hot.  I was going to be sick.  The cool rush of air relaxed me.  They continued to ask me questions.  What was my name?  Where was I?  Who was the president?
    Once on the top, they ran me through the woods to a clearing where an ambulance was waiting.  Still on the backboard, I stared up through the tree canopy, searching for some semblance of light.  When we broke the tree line and into the clearing, the sky was the brightest blue I could ever remember seeing.  From here they took me in an ambulance to a Medivac helicopter and flew me to Columbus.
    After that, I remember being wheeled down long corridors to an emergency room where about twenty doctors and nurses flocked around me.  They sat me on a table under a bright red light and cut off my clothes.  A barrage of questions hit me.  Where do you hurt?  Can you move your foot for me?  Does this hurt?  Did you hit your head?  Look this way, and that way.  This is gonna hurt.
    The put me in a CAT scan that talked.  It told me to breathe and exhale in passing intervals just long enough to keep me awake.  They took me into another room; the last thing I remember was sitting on a table while they injected drugs into my IV to knock me out so that they could set my bone.
    That night I awoke to the rhythmic sound of my fathers snoring.  As I glanced over to my left, I saw my mother and father sleeping, their bodies in twisted contortions from the uncomfortable hospital chairs.  I thanked God to granting me life.
    I later found out that I had fallen 70 feet, seven stories.  Anything over four stories was considered life threatening.  I had survived the odds.  With God's grace I had come out alive.  Most people who fall as far as I did and live become quadriplegics and are handicapped for the rest of their lives.  Miraculously, I walked away with only a broken left humerus and fractured backbone.  Every day since my accident I have tried to live life to the fullest.  I constantly try new things and encourage others to do the same.  I know God must have a special plan for me because it was through His grace I survived.  Every day I praise God and I thank Him I am alive.

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