Final Paper

I have enjoyed this class immensely. In fact, this class has probably been my favorite class I have taken in my college career. Why did it have such an impact on me? It reminded me of being a little girl and listening to my family tell stories. I come from a long line of storytellers and have only just begun to learn as to what makes a good story. Having said this, I would like to share a story I have heard hundreds of times. I can recite it word for word.

Sea Hunt

“Have you ever heard of a television show called Sea Hunt? It was a show starring Lloyd Bridges as Mike Nelson, a scuba diver in the days when it was still very new. He would dive and save people’s lives and search for buried treasure. There was no job that could not be done by Mike Nelson.

“I was just a little one when I asked my dad if he had ever dove in the Navy. My dad, being as full of shit as the rest of them, said, “Oh yeah! We used to dive down in Guam all the time for sea urchins and abalone and stuff.” Being the naive kid I was, I believed every word he said. My eyes were the size of golf balls as he was ranting about his experiences in the Navy. My dad was a diver, just like Mike Nelson—my hero.

“We lived on a farm in South West Montana in a little white house my grandpa built. The whole house was only 800 square feet. It had two bedrooms—one for my parents, and one for me and my two brothers.

“After a fresh episode of Sea Hunt one day when my dad was out farming and my brothers were off at school and my mother was taking her usual nap, I took the opportunity to do my usual snooping. And I came across the most amazing thing. My heart jumped when I saw my dad’s scuba tank! He wasn’t joking! Right there in front of me was my dad’s tank. It had the nozzle and everything. The only thing it was missing was a harness.

“I ran down to the bar as fast as I could and grabbed me some baling twine. I rigged up the best harness and attached it to the tank.

“What does a little kid do with a scuba tank once it is all harnessed up?

“Bath time!

“I ran to the bathroom of the little white house and started filling the tub. I found my older brother’s long yellow rain jacket I used for a wet suit, which was three sizes too big for me, and got my flippers and goggles on.

“I was going to lie down in the tub and watch it bubble like Lloyd Bridges.

“The bath was finally ready and I was all suited up. I bent over to grab a towel off the floor and I heard a CLANK.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

“This god-awful noise was right by my left ear and I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the machine and the rapid beating of my heart. What did I do wrong?!

“It turns out, I had a fire extinguisher on my back. White powder was flying all over the room and I could hardly breathe. What else does a little kid do when she is scared?

“Run to Mom!

“My poor mother was sound asleep when I came storming through the door. There was white powder flying all over the walls. I had a quarter inch of tears in my facemask. My flippers made it a challenge to run. My three-times-too-big “wet suit” was getting caught on obstacles and flying all around. I don’t remember what was louder: the white powder ejecting from the tank or my deep sobs.

“My mother was awoken so abruptly just as the air and the powder was dissipating out of the big red tank. Her hair seamed to turn gray before my eyes. “

I can tell this story nowhere near as well as my father even though I have heard it and recited it almost as much as he. There is a special way a storyteller delivers his or her tale. I don’t know what it is that makes it so engaging, but it is extremely powerful. Just like the story Dr. Sexson told in class about the woman sitting next to him on the plane. We all got lost in this story and he knew it. He told it in a way that his audience was almost sickened when class was over and the story was not yet finished.

This is the importance of stories. Whether they are true or not true does not matter. The power the teller has over his or her audience is incredible. Just like the woman who told stories to the Nazis. Her stories saved her and possibly her sister’s life. That is incredible in itself. The fact my dad can change a room’s dynamics just by saying the words, “Have I ever told you the time when…?” All stories are a way of changing a person’s life. For just one moment, the listener is so engaged and lost from reality. In my opinion, that is the importance of a story that may or may not be true. Escape.