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keithcancook Nearly Meets His Maker
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keithcancook Nearly Meets His Maker Hello, my friends! Here is a TRUE story from my youth. In the summer of my seventeenth year I traveled Northern Europe for a month with a Catholic youth group. One of our first stops was Brussels, Belgium where we stayed in a youth hostel. This hostel was shaped sort of like a "C" or bracket "[ ". In the middle courtyard it was open aired and grassy, to the back there was a low stone wall topped by an iron fence. Beyond the fence was a 60 foot drop to the alley below. We sat out there, my friends and I, looking down into the alley watching playing soccer on the cobbled street. Later, while exploring the city I saw a billboard promoting the rock band Uriah Heep and their concert that was scheduled for that very night! Now in those days I really liked that band and the thought of seeing them in Europe was just way too cool to pass up. So I convinced my friend and 2 other girls we met as part of our tour group to go to this concert. I will skip over the part of trying to find this place in a strange city and me with only a minimum of French fluency...that was an adventure in itself... Anyways, we found the place, enjoyed the show, had a blast and then tried to navigate home later that night. There another adventure in bus changes and wrong stops continued... When we finally found the dang hostel where we were staying it was well past midnight. Now in those days the hostels closed at certain times and if you weren't inside then you were on your own until morning. We were in big trouble because the priests were going to be really pissed off that they had lost 4 teenagers on the second day of the trip! I am sure that there was quite a bit of consternation when we missed the head count that night. I was in a quandary as to what to do. I didn't know my way around, there weren't any other places to stay, the females were bitching...it was a bummer let me tell you. There was still activity on the streets and folks were passing by. I tried to converse with some of them in my fractured French but was not getting anywhere. So we just started walking and not too far down the street we came to a nightclub that was going full bore with rock music and drinking. We were way for America but in Brussels we were served all the alcohol we wanted. We partied for three more hours until we were too tired to go on. We stumbled back to the front of the hostel and it's heavy arched wooden door. Across the street was a small church that must have been 400 years old, with a tiny cemetery attached. We went there and sat down amongst the crosses and stones to rest. I was thinking, "This is not good. There must be a way to get in." That is when it hit me. The Courtyard of the Hostel! Of course! I remembered that the building next to that alley where the were playing soccer had these windows with bars on them. If someone was careful, he could climb from window to window up to the level of the courtyard and then swing over and grab the iron railing that guarded the back of the courtyard. Once there all he had to do was walk across the courtyard to the front door, open it and let the others in. As I explained this cockamamie plan to my little group the women were all for it. (sure, let him risk his young ass so daddy's little princess won't get in trouble). Mark wasn't so certain though. He thought that the windows were too far apart. But I was tall, much taller than the others. I felt that it could be done. In fact I insisted on it. So we all walked the long twisting route down to the back of the hostel. We were down in the alley looking up at the railing of the hostel courtyard and I measured the possibilities from this new perspective. It appeared that Mark may have been right. The distance looked possible but very dangerous. Stupid and undeterred, I announced that I was going up. I was going over, and I was going in. They were to just watch. The windows were difficult to manage. They were shaped like arches - rounded at the top. The bars that guarded them were shaped to fit. I could just pull myself up far enough to reach the next level and I began to climb. After I cleared two stories I paused and rested, clinging tightly to the bars and hoping that they were all well anchored. It never occurred to me that they may pull out of the dang building from my weight. I looked up. Only one more level to go. I pulled myself up and was level with the courtyard. Almost. Not quite level actually, now that I was up there and could see better. The final move to be made...the one that would put me on the railing of the courtyard...was too far!!! I was long and tall but it just was a bit too far to swing from the window of my building to the hostel next door. I looked down. There were my three friends below me watching. I decided that I couldn't make the maneuver and would have to retrace my steps. That is when I discovered that down was not an option either. At least down by climbing. Down by falling was much more likely. The windows were recessed, and the bars were fitted inside. It was like a smooth wall below me with no footholds. I can still remember vividly the thoughts that raced through my dazed brain as I clung to that window and felt the wind blowing on my face that summer of 1973. Even as I sit here 42 long years later. It was a picture of the local paper with a bold headline Youth Dies In Fall Abroad! Oh! How my heart was beating! Let me tell y'all I was feeling pretty scared all of a sudden. The alcohol was wearing off quickly with the adrenaline rush of my life being at stake, and I was thinking since I cant go down, I will have to make the attempt to swing over the long distance to my left that would put me safely home. There was only going to be one attempt. I knew this. I was going to have to hang on the window bar with my right hand, swing my whole body over and reach out with my left hand to the next building. I could not do this without letting go of the window bar at the apex of my swing maneuver. It was right out of Arnold Schwarzenegger or The Matrix or something like that. If I missed the railing I would continue falling to the cobbled street below. Of course I made it. Obviously, since I lived to tell the tale. My hand found the bottom of that railing, and I clung to it for dear life as I quickly brought my right hand over and now I was almost done. I had two hands firmly clutching the the iron railing, (Hell, pressing grooves in them I was hanging on so tight). My feet were dangling and my fans were cheering below. I pulled myself up and over. I was in! I looked down at my friends. Down in the alley where the play. Triumphantly I raised my arms ala Rocky and jumped up and down. Seriously, somebody should have been playing that music from Rocky it was such a magnificent moment for me. I called down to them and told them to start walking back and be very quiet when they tapped on the door. I lay on my back in the courtyard grass and looked up at the stars of Belgium and waited. It was going to take them a good while to walk all the way back around to the front door of the hostel. When I felt that they should almost be there I carefully tiptoed over to the main door. All was quiet and all were asleep. Or so I thought. Just as I heard a soft tapping at the door and was about to open it, a firm hand suddenly grasped my shoulder. Surprised, I turned around and found myself staring into the not too pleased face of Mr. Reynolds, one of the adult volunteers for our tour. He told me "This hostel does not open until 7am. You may enter it then. He then opened the door and put me out with my disheveled friends. The door closed and the lock was set again. And there I stood. Right where I was so many hours before. I learned many lessons that night and not least among them was a lesson in irony. blog on!  |
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I'm sure you didn't think you would be telling this story 42 years later.........glad you still among the living!!!!   WITHOUT PASSION LIFE IS NOTHING
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I'm sure you didn't think you would be telling this story 42 years later.........glad you still among the living!!!! Thanks for staying with a rather longish story.  As always, blog on!
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Thank you, JAFFO! And welcome to The Venting Blog! I am very pleased that you took time to read and enjoy. See you soon, over at your blog. blog on!
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Thank you, cinnamon! It is still very vivid to me. One of those never forget type moments, which is great since most of the seventies are sorta hazy... blog on!
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Ah. I would probably remember better from the profile pic you used back then. Unless of course it's the same one you're using now in which case there would be solid proof that I have no idea who the hell you are...  Either way, we are blogging together once more!  So, blog on!
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What an exciting tale. You had me on the edge of my seat even though i knew you lived to tell the tale.  
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What an exciting tale. You had me on the edge of my seat even though i knew you lived to tell the tale. blog on!
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Thank you, Focus old pal. I'm beaming with pride, reading all these praises from my peers. Yanno, I never considered it before, but I wonder if that S.O.B. Reynolds ever got curious as to how I gained the inside of the hostel. They never did ask me about it when they cross examined all of us later that morning. If he knew what I had just done he should have let me go get some sleep on principle! I snapped that selfie 10 min. before posting last night. My main profile pic is 11 years old. I keep it up for blog continuity... blog on!
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Keithcancook's Excellent Day Off! Youth and it's memory treasures.~ As for me, I dare not open that box... lol Come on over, be my muse, enjoy some insider fantasies. Click; watch this blog, for more illusive tales. {=} [blog maggieswish]
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Great story and ty for sharing hugsssssssssssssss V Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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Oh the bravery of youth! That you lived to tell the tale is quite impressive.
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Keithcancook's Excellent Day Off! Youth and it's memory treasures.~ As for me, I dare not open that box... lol  memory on!
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Great story and ty for sharing hugsssssssssssssss V blog on!
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Thanks CRB! I can confirm that much else DID happen on that particular adventure. We had a blast. As to Belgian cocks, I never saw one then or since. blog on!
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Oh the bravery of youth! That you lived to tell the tale is quite impressive. But that would have took an hour at the least, I guess, and I would have tired. I had been up all friggin night starting with the concert. Impressive is that I was healthy enough for one more energetic burst! Oh! The robustness of youth! blog on!
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Glad you made it this far Keith happy living my friend! Unhappily, the arthritis in my hands would prevent me from duplicating my famous leap.  oh well, leap on!
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My new favorite blogger! Love your absurd humor and style
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My new favorite blogger! Love your absurd humor and style  Welcome to The Venting Blog, where absurdity, humor and style can be found from the deepest basement to the more recent posts on the top floor! The best stuff is in these here comment areas, where all my friends are quite devilishly clever! We are so happy to have you join us! As always, blog on!
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Actually, this is the first story I ever wrote for "publication" on the internet. I've re-posted it a few times over the course of blogging here. I think I wrote it 2004 or so. Response has always been good whenever I have posted it. So I whip it out every few years or so. Thank you, for letting me know that it gripped you. It really helps to hear those things. Not just for stroking my ego, but to see what works and what doesn't when I write.
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