a particular story upon his arrival. It was about a boy, a generation or so before us, who had been sledding when he accidentally crashed into a utility pole one his way down the hill.
The boy had the wind knocked out of him, but felt more or less okay. He did go home though, and laid down for a nap. He never woke up. He had broken a rib and punctured an internal organ.
In hearing that story, we all learned both to be careful going down the hill, and that if we did have an accident, to be sure we weren't more hurt than we first thought.
I remember passing this story along after I had heard it, the same as it was passed to me.
My guess is it's still being told. Even as children we could not help but pass along survival information in the form of a story. We had no idea we were doing so, but we did it just the same.
We all do as the neighborhood kids did on top of that snowy hill—we tell stories because we find them interesting for some reason and can't help but to share them.
The story of the Titanic has many lessons, but one of them is that there ought to be enough lifeboats for everyone onboard a ship. How many lives has this saved?
We have all heard a story about someone whose life was