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elfpirate
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I was thinking about the "Would you help or not" thread, and it made me wonder about the flip side of the question. Have you ever had someone rescue you?

I also wanted to know what kind of survival stories were out there... you know- have you ever come close to dying or had to escape a seriously frightening situation?

Don't forget to tell what the situation was and how you were able to survive it...
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[SIZE=1][B]My survivaly story?

Living through 13 years with my family is a survival novel let alone a story.

Other than that, I must be the only OBer who hasn't come close to death, hasn't been rescued, and hasn't been in most of the situations on the other thread. I will tell you, though, I was once rescued when I got locked in the bathroom.[/SIZE][/B]
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When I was little, I was playing on my aunt and uncle's pool deck, and somehow I fell into the pool. No one was around except my older cousin who was mowing the lawn. Somehow, either by screaming so loudly or making a commotion with the water, he saw me and dived in (clothes and all). That's my story.

I don't remember it, but all of my family sees a special bond between Billy and I --- though there's not, really. I thank him for saving me, though.
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[color=hotpink][size=1]When I was about two, I fell in a pool and was laying on the bottom when someone finally noticed me and saved me. So of course, I don't remember that.

However, last January, I was driving to pick my mom up from work in the pouring down rain on the interstate and the truck hydroplaned, slid around, hit the wall in the middle of the interstate and flipped five to six times, landing upside down. This man came over and pulled me out of my seatbelt and such. I was so scared. I cried hysterically. I got off without a scratch. My socks were pretty soaked, however, as my shoes fell off when the man pulled me out of the truck.[/color][/size]
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[COLOR=Navy]I was dying just after I was born, but the doctors helped me live.

I saved my best friend's life. We were playing house. I put her in this toddler stroller, and zipped her in. (It was those child proof ones where you couldn't unzip from the inside. Well, we were going down this steep driveway. I was tipping the front up so the stroller was doing wheelies. I wasn't strong enough, so I had my hands underneath the handle bar. Anyways, we where going down this steep driveway. Clumsy as I was at that age, I tripped and fell forward. My knuckles of my hands where trapped underneath the handle bar, and my knuckles where grinding against the cement and the pressure of the stroller pulling me down the driveway.

I managed to finally get my hands out of the stroller as soon as we reached the street. I ran towards my house, skin totally taken away on all of my knuckles, and my knees and arms badly scabbed, scratched, and bruised when I heard a huge horn blow. Turns out it was from a big truck. My best friend was trapped in the stroller in the middle of the street. I stopped screaming, still full of tears, ran out there, and saved her before she got ran over. [/COLOR]
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[QUOTE=Japan_86][COLOR=Navy]I was dying just after I was born, but the doctors helped me live.

I saved my best friend's life. We were playing house. I put her in this toddler stroller, and zipped her in. (It was those child proof ones where you couldn't unzip from the inside. Well, we were going down this steep driveway. I was tipping the front up so the stroller was doing wheelies. I wasn't strong enough, so I had my hands underneath the handle bar. Anyways, we where going down this steep driveway. Clumsy as I was at that age, I tripped and fell forward. My knuckles of my hands where trapped underneath the handle bar, and my knuckles where grinding against the cement and the pressure of the stroller pulling me down the driveway.

I managed to finally get my hands out of the stroller as soon as we reached the street. I ran towards my house, skin totally taken away on all of my knuckles, and my knees and arms badly scabbed, scratched, and bruised when I heard a huge horn blow. Turns out it was from a big truck. My best friend was trapped in the stroller in the middle of the street. I stopped screaming, still full of tears, ran out there, and saved her before she got ran over. [/COLOR][/QUOTE]

[i] Yowch. That sounds awful, glad your friend was okay. Seems like many people here have had problems with drowning. I have to admit I have as well.

My parents took me to the Disneyland Hotel when I was 4 years old, and they decided to try and get me to swim in the pool since I was starting swimming lessons and I loved to be in the water. Anyways my dad told me to hold onto the edge of the pool and wait there while he swam to the other side (although i didn't see him) to talk to my mom. Being the stubborn and foolish kid I was I thought I could swim too after seeing my dad and pushed off the edge into the deep end, only to find myself sinking to the bottom. For some reason I wasn't scared, and I actually remember it clearly. All I heard was my mom yelling my dad's name, and my dad swimming over to me. I also was looking for fish (I thought there was fish in a pool...why? I have no idea) and when i saw my dad I tried to reach him, and actually swam to where he was. That was the first time I learned how to swim. But if he hadn't seen me gone I probably would have drowned. [/i]
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[color=#ff6600]I've never had anything too drastic happen to me. In fact, the only thing that came to mind in the 'being rescued' department was an instance in grade school when I fell off a something, and someone caught me. (And then I realized that situation has played itself out more than once, which is funny and maybe a little pathetic.)

In [b]third grade[/b], I was climbing around on a window ledge--it wasn't really even that high up, to be honest. And it was indoors (one of those ticket-window type things you might have at the entrance to a grade school gym. Like anyone's ever going to buy tickets to go to a grade school basketball game.) Anyway, I was trying to get up on the ledge from the inside, and someone pushed me--I tumbled headfirst the other direction. I probably would have hurt myself pretty solidly, but there was a fourteen-year old (or so) guy on the other side, and he caught me (remember, I'm a skinny little eight-year-old kid). I got yelled at a bit (I was not happy that no one yelled at the person who had pushed me in the first place), but it wasn't anything too serious, heh. Scary moment in my childhood, though, and I'm not really sure why. The guy who caught was named Nathan.

My [b]sophomore year in high school[/b], I joined drama, and we'd always fool around before practice. Off of stage right, there was a small hallway--there was barely room to walk, because along one side were stacked purple mats (for the tumbling units in gym class). Anyway, we'd arrange and re-arrange the mats into different height piles. One afternoon, one pile was stacked up nearly to the ceiling. I climbed up there, and was resting.

One of the guys in drama came over, saw that I was up there, and (as was his practice :p) started harassing me. In this case, he started pushing and pulling against the pile of mats. It didn't move much at the bottom, but the top (where I was) was really shaking. I was yelling at him to stop, he was laughing, and the top mat (with me on it) slid off the stack. I fell, he "mostly" caught me (he also manage to change my flight path so I slammed my shoulder into a wall--ouch).

That happened on a Friday. And ever since then, among my group of friends, Fridays have been known as "Kill Sara!" days. (One of those jokes that you'd think would die [i]eventually[/i], but nooooo.)

And [b]this[/b] [b]summer[/b], on a photo-scavenger hunt, my team and I went over to the local tech college to take a picture. The requirement on the list was to have members of the group "interacting with a statue." The tech college has got a statue of Mr. and Mrs. Abraham Lincoln on its front lawn, so we headed over there. The happy couple (one sitting, one standing) were placed pretty high up on a pedestal-type thing. One teammate stood a ways back to snap the photo, one gave me a boost up, and I climbed up there and sat on Abe's lap for the picture.

So that all went fine. I hugged Abe (awww), the picture was snapped, and I stood up, walking along the pedestal ledge to find a place to jump down that wasn't full of bushes. (Now, I'd done this before, but I'd been much smaller then, and perhaps a bit more accustomed to balancing on narrow surfaces.) Just before I was about to jump, I lost my balance, and (are we seeing a pattern in these stories at all?) fell. My teammate at the bottom caught me, we all laughed a lot, and headed somewhere else to take more pictures.

It's kinda funny, because as grateful as I was/am that I didn't end up hitting the ground, the reason the events actually stick in my mind was because of how disorienting they were. As painful as it may sometimes be, I honestly do jump and slash or fall off things a fair bit--and you're always supposed to hit ground at the bottom. But when someone catches you or stops your fall, things twist around a bit--your attention shifts from the ground to them, they end up altering (however greatly or slightly) the straight path you were going, and sometimes you just don't make it to the ground, heh. And I'm not [i]complaining[/i], but it gives the whole half-second period a very surreal feeling. (Many times moreso than simply falling.)

So yeah, nothing super dramatic, but there ya go. I fall off things a lot, I guess.

they're grrrrrrreat!
Sara[/color]
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[quote name='Lore][color=#ff6600'] I fall off things a lot, I guess.[/color][/quote]
We must be related Sara because gravity has never been my friend. I have fallen off of so many things and broken bones. Playground equipment, vehicles, down stairs...heck, I tripped into a sunken living room and smacked my head into a coffee table once! That was only one step down yet I managed to fall into the room. I am truly talented.

As for being rescued I have one story that fits this requirement. The funny thing is that it has nothing to do with falling down. How odd. I am going to use some spoiler tags since the accident is a bit, well, gross in a bloody way. With that said, let's continue on.

When I was 3 years old I got my right index finger stuck in the gears of some farm equipment. My older brother was playing around the equipment and touching the gears as they turned. I, being the tomboy I was, knew if he could do it I could do it too. No, I was wrong. I got my finger caught in the gears and ended up stuck. I was strong enough to keep my hand from being pulled in but not strong enough to pull my finger out.

My dad came to my rescue. He got my hand unstuck from the gears. [spoiler]My entire index finger had the appearance of bloody ground beef. The bones in my finger were all broken and sticking out all over. I remember looking at my finger nail as it fell off.[/spoiler] My dad grabbed me, my brother and mom and rushed to the hospital. I remember my mom telling me on the car ride to the hospital as she held my hand wrapped in a green bath towel that she had just washed that towel. At the time I thought I was in BIG trouble for messing the towel up and I apologized. Looking back at it now I realize she was probably saying that so she would stay calm.

My dad is the one who saved me. My biggest regret about that entire event is not having to have my finger amputated but when I found out that my dad still has nightmares about the accident. That really breaks my heart. No matter how much I try to convince him that it is ok and that I am fine he still feels bad since he was suppose to be watching us and I got hurt. I have no problems typing, writing or using chopsticks. The only long term "problem" I have is dealing with that "extra" finger on all my right hand gloves!
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Mwahaha

Ok. When I was in sixth grade or perhaps fourth (i cant remember the time of year) I had a nice little experiance with a Kitty.

No one was around... I was small. I went outside to play around the area... The movement got my attention and I watched stupidly as a couger stalked closer and closer to me. I finally realize (when he was less than 10 feet from me) that i should not be there.

I went back in the house of course. I have more stories but no time to tell them right now.
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Tee hee! Blanko's story reminded me of one of my less- dramatic stories of rescue/survival.

I was about 5 years old and my parents had taken my brothers and me to a zoo.
Like an idiot, I was climbing up on the stone walls that run along the edge of the cages, and had turned my back to the pack of panthers on the other side of the wall to ask one of my parents something.
The next thing I knew, my dad had ahold of the collar of my shirt and was violently yanking me down from the wall.
At that precise moment, I heard an angry growl from behind me... one of those panther "screams"...
I turned my head, and the panther was swatting the air where the back of my neck had been just a split second before that.
My dad said that the panther had crouched and then lunged at me... he moved me just in time...
There were bars there, but they were far enough apart for the panther to put it's paws and legs through, so it could have easily gored me through the bars.

It's not very dramatic, but, oh,well... I've got a lot of survival stories and not enough time... I'll post more later... I just had to throw this one in because I had forgotten about it until I read Blanko's post.
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I only have two. Both of which aren't that great.

I was about to cross the street at Ocean City, walking to the beach with my mother. There were cars parked all the way down the side walk, so many that if a car were to drive by, I wouldn't be able to hear it because the sound-waves would echo off of the cars. I began to walk across the street, as I could not hear a car driving towards me 40 mph above the speed limit. My mother did, however, and pulled me back by the collar of my shirt, as a car was inches from my nose, zipping by at nearly 60 mph. If I had taken that last step, that would've been the end of it all.

Another is that when I was really little, I swallowed something. I can't remember what, but it got lodged in my throat. I couldn't breathe either, so I shook my brother who was three years younger than me, and make the 'Help! I can't breathe!" sign to him. He didn't pick up, and thought I was making a threatening gesture at him. So he punched me with all his might in my stomach. It was enough to dislodge whatever I was choking on, and send it down to my stomach. Scary, huh?
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I have one survival story. Well when I was born I was given my baby shots just like everybody else. These shots, however, caused me to become an extreme asthmatic. I became allergic to everything. I couldn't have any dairy, and wheat products and no sugar at all. The bad thing was the doctors and my parents didn't realize how serious it was. So in my first years of life I had problems when I ate things. I wouldn't be able to breath, I'd get hives and scratch myself until I bled, and a whole bunch more unpleasant things. Then, starting about when I was three, I started to have really bad attacks. When I ate something I was allergic to my throat would immediately swell up, and I wouldn't be able to breath at all. Most of the time I would pass out, and wake up in a hospital. It got so bad that the doctor would tell my parents that if I made it through the night I'd live. I can't remember what happened during most of my attacks because I was so little, but I will never forget what it feels like to have one. I remember being really frustrated and angry. It's hard to explain, but having an asma attak sort of feels like when you have been running really hard. Then when you stop to catch your breath you can't, no matter how hard you try. So you panic, then you get angry because there isn't anything you can do to help yourself. It's a really scary expirence. I'm very happy that I servived. I have actually grown out of most of my allergies. I still have problems with animals, but I haven't had a series attack for many years. Anyways, that my eventfull childhood for you. :)
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Here's one that will freak out those of you that are claustrophobic...heh heh...

When I was about 10, my family lived in El Paso, TX- right on the Mexican border, for those of you that don't know.

Well, there was this couple that used to come over to visit my parents and they always brought their kids over with them.

One day, in the middle of the summer, when it was over 100 degrees outside, one of their little girls and I were playing around my parents' car. We figured out how to open the trunk and soon began shutting eachother inside.
It was no big deal, we thought, because there was a latch on the inside to open the trunk hatch.
Well, she shut me inside for like the 3rd time and when it started to get stuffy in there, I tried the latch...and it broke. So I yelled for her to open it from the outside...but she couldn't, because I had just broken the latch.
Instead of finding help for me, she got scared and just left me in there.
I was in there for about 20 minutes...which is a REALLY long time to spend trapped in a tiny little car trunk in the El Paso heat, mind you...
Finally, one of my parents asked her where I was and she confessed to shutting me in the trunk.
My dad came out and began trying various things to get me out of there before I suffocated to death or my brain cooked. He tried everything before he finally ended up ripping the back seat off of its mounting to get me out(the car didn't have the fold-down-the-back-seat option- he ripped the seat out...bolts and all).
All in all, I was probably in there for about 45 minutes. I'm not so sure that my brain didn't cook... but there's no mistaking where my claustrophobia comes from...
and there's no denying my dad's brute strength *heh heh*.
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[size=1]Well, there was this one time when I was younger, and we [my family] were driving to Colorado. The roads were icy, and there was this terrible sharp turn. It was wet, icy, and slippery, and my dad did the stupid thing and pushed the brake. Car skids to the end of this cliff-ish thing, kinda balancing on both sides. Dad could've easily stepped out, but that would've killed my mom and me, so he stayed inside. The car slides off the hill, rolls over sideways three times, amazingly lands on the wheels of this grassy area.

And I slept through the entire thing. When I woke up, the entire right window was caked with mud, and I just had to know what happened. >_>

Eh. I would've died peacefully in my sleep. Oh well.

Nothing else comes immediately to mind, besides mom's three other car accidents and cooking/burning incidents with various cousins.[/size]
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I dont know if this really counts because I had to save myself but ill post it anyway.

I think it was my last year of school and I was walking home. I had to cross the main road in to our town and alothough it is the main road its not very busy. I went to the pedestrian crossing and pressed the lights, when the lights changed I started to cross.

When i got to the middle of the road I luckilly looked to my left (UK, cars drive on the left) and saw a car right there speeding straght towards me, there was no way he would have stopped in time for the lights so i had to leap backwards so he didnt hit me. He sped right through the red light with a phone clapped to his ear.

I was lucky that I could move fast enough but there was a woman walking behind me with a toddler walking at each arm, theres no way they wouldv all got out the way fast enouth if our places had been switched.

I was to shook up to take note of his number plate, else I wouldv reportrd him. In fact walking the rest of the way home I was so beside myself I almost walked out in front of another car. To this day I cant stand people who speed and I have a healthy fear of roads.
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