Robert Woodson Biography

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My name is Robert Woodson or Bobby for short, allotted with many other nicknames but let’s not dwindle, because I could almost certainly write an entire essay on just nicknames; I am 19 years of age, and I regularly donate free time to helping out around the city. Some people refer to it as community “service,” or being guilted into helping others, and some even do it just to make there social appearance better. I can honestly smile and answer when the question, “Why do you do community service?” arises. I do community service, not because I have to, but because I want to. There’s no bigger pet peeve for me than to drive around town and noticing all the trash on the side of the roads, or seeing people suffer from lack of food because they don’t…show more content…
It’s strange, because I only take this route on Fridays, because traffic is bad on the interstate around 12-1pm, and this is the only day I have class at that time. The whole situation now seems surreal, and like an act of fate. What if class had been cancelled? What if the traffic didn’t look so bad on the interstate that day? What if I had left the house just a few moments earlier? So many different variables swirl through my mind endlessly, but I am incredibly grateful for how things played out today. Back to the story, though; I was driving along the road next to Wal-Mart, heading over the bridge, and turning onto the small street leading over to the Stones River Battlefield. At the last second, a navy blue Taurus pulled out in front of a Paint van, or something of that sort (with a big smiley face on the side of it). With nobody around that I could see, I pulled over immediately to check the vital signs of the drivers in each vehicle. I called 911 immediately, but the road had no sign on it, and I was seriously at a loss of words in the moment, so as mentioned in this essay earlier, I just told her the road next to 2000 old fort parkway walmart heading across the bridge. I told the woman on the line I’d call back immediately after I made sure they were safe. As I got out of the car, I could already tell the lady (who later I found out’s…show more content…
The lady I could tell was in profuse pain, even through the shock of the accident, the emotions on her face just screamed bloody murder. I tried speaking with her, but there was no response besides the meager whimpers. I reached in and turned the car off, hoping that would stop any possibilities of the car igniting. As I was reached into the car, I noticed what this lady was dealing with. In horror, I had never seen anything like it. The impact had destroyed the door, and jammed metal shard through her leg. She was stuck, and there was virtually nothing I could accomplish for her. I unbuckled her seatbelt, and one of the other people screamed, “You have to get her out of there, now!” In an instant, a huge guy came running up, and started yanking on the driver’s side door, in good means I’m sure, but only jammed the door farther into her leg. I showed the guy what he had done, and mortified, he slowly backed away. I opened the right passenger door, and tried lying the seat down, but nothing seemed to be working; I saw no possible way to help get this lady out of

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