“Death sits atop a hill, but he isn’t that scary.”



My grandparents may not always be the sanest people on Earth, but I guarantee that there were some very good times learning how to drive and when we flew. When I learned to drive, I learned to drive in a 1960’s Army Jeep. We would go out and drive on my grandfather’s farm, in a very hilly area. Nowadays, we have a lot of safety precautions in our vehicles. However, that jeep had no top, no doors, no seatbelts, only one of the gauges worked, and there was only rusted metal where the back seats were supposed to be. On this far, some of the back woods parts had quite steep hills. One of these hills was nicknamed the “Death Hill”. Why? Because it was so steep that it was almost vertical. And what happens when I reach the top of the slope? I freaked out. Of course I did. It was cluttered with rocks, trees, tree stumps, wild animals, and a very narrow pathway. I had to go down the path, despite whatever I wanted to happen (which was escape), but my grandfather was persistent. I was still hesitant. He said he’d swap seats with me, and drive down the hill if I wanted. I said yes, the coward that I was, and after we started rolling down the hill, he yelled out, “Better take the wheel!” I looked over in horror, and saw he had removed his hands from the steering wheel. I grabbed the wheel and managed to guide us down the hill. My grandfather cackled the whole way down. I later realized that he was teaching me to not only conquer fears, but to take control of my life. When things don’t go the way you planned, you have to take over and drive things the way that you want it to go. Truth is, a while later, I did drive down that ridiculous hill. Still steep. Still think I killed a squirrel. But I did it anyways. I conquered my fears, and once I conquered my fear, I could take care of my life.