In high school, I went to a boarding school. I had my share of embarrassing moments in high school, but the most humiliating experience during that time happened while I was touring Christ School in Asheville, NC.
I was 13 years old, in the eighth grade, and in awe of the super-cool high school kids that I met on the tour. After an interview with the dean, we had to hurry to the dining hall because we were late for lunch.
As we reached the top of the steps leading down to the dining hall, we saw all of the students stand up for the prayer. I knew that it would be pretty uncool if I didn’t get inside before the meal started. I picked up the pace.
The stairway from the main walkway down to the dining hall was very long. After one or two steps, I lost my footing. I’m not talking about getting a bit wobbly and grabbing the railing. I did a Superman stair-dive. There have been runaway trains with less momentum than I had at this point.
When my mom tells the story, she says that it seemed like I feel for five minutes. I wasn’t lucky enough to lodge an arm or a leg in the railing that ran down the center of the stairway. After all, a broken leg would have been better than what happened.
I tripped, flipped, and somersaulted all the way down to the bottom. I was moving so fast by the time I hit the bottom that I slid three or four feet past the end of the stairs.
When I finally came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, I looked up and realized that I was sprawled out in front of a giant wall of glass. The windows were about ten feet in front of me. When I looked up, every single person in the dining hall was staring at me. Once they realized that I wasn’t serious injured, they broke into applause. I received a standing ovation as my dad ran down the steps to make sure I was OK.
As he picked me up off the ground, my dad leaned over and said, “well….I think we can cross this place off the list.”
Until next time.