...ALTERNATE ENDING It happened to Nancy by Beatrice Sparks end by Nancy’s last diary entry. Nancy talks about her life with Aunt Thelma, the Gaggle, and the wonderful farm which she spends the rest of her life. She speaks like a matured person and tried to take everything in a positive way. She didn’t complaint about her pains to others and stayed calm. April 12 Time: who knows …who cares… Dear Self,,,,,,,, The Gaggle sends me tons of letters and stuffs. I didn’t finish reading them yet. Mom called me last night and we talked about moving to new apartment. I wish I could talk to dad soon. He is busy with his work and trying to find a new maid. Aunt Thelma is busy with her drawing and I finished the painting she asked me to do. I love RA4. He is cute little puppy and he make me forget about the lost feelings about Red Alert. My kidney problem is getting worse. Aunt Thelma went to town and brought me more depends. I want to go sit under the shade tree and read all the letters from Gaggle but I feel so tired and lazy. Feel like my whole body is going to break down when I try to move. I don’t care about it because I can’t spend the whole day in bed. I don’t want to waste a single second of my life. i want see Lew . “”””LEW””””???? Oh dear self, I forgot about him. I hadn’t written anything about him since I came here. MAG!!!! He...
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...1960s Diary Entries Clarence McKinney HIS/135 November 25, 2012 Jennifer Landers 1960s Diary Entries Dear Diary, Today is August 17, 1965 and has been the first day in a week that I could write. The past six days here in Watts have been almost unbearable for me. I take pen in hand to record the events of this past week to have a written account of the horrific things I have witnessed. The Civil Right Act that was passed last year had given me as well as others the hope that the United States was finally on its way to racial equality, but the condition of Watts has not changed for the better. There is high unemployment, substandard housing, and inadequate schools in this district. This has lowered the self-esteem and raised the tempers of the people here. Last Wednesday on the 11th I opened my store as usual at 8am and set about my daily routine. The day progressed normally until I had to leave the store for a bite to eat. As I walked toward the diner I noticed a group of people across the street gathered around something. I could not see what it was as I was still several yards away. As I came closer I realized that a highway patrolman had pulled a car over to the side of the street. My curiosity peaked and I stopped to see what would happen. A white patrolman had a young black motorist on the sidewalk and was administering a sobriety test. I could hear words bantered back and forth between some of the onlookers and the patrolman. Tensions escalated when the patrolman...
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...1960s Diary Entries By William L Martin IV August 14, 2015 HIS/135 - THE AMERICAN EXPERIENCE SINCE 1945 Instructor: ROBYN JAMES 1960s Diary Entries 1-Dear Diary, There is so much anger in this place and sometimes it feels as if that is all that exists anymore. The African American community is tired. They are frustrated. They are angry and rightfully so. We have been mistreated in a nation that claims that it is the freest nation in the world and we have been oppressed to the point to where we are not even treated as people. Many of us feel as if we are not and this makes us even angrier. We are people. We are human beings. We have feelings and we love our families just as every other person in our nation does and yet we are treated as secondary. Why is this? What is it about the color of our skin that makes us so different? People have different color eyes, how is this any different? Tonight I witnessed a man speak from his heart about the plight of not just the African American community but to us. He spoke from his heart to address us not as individuals but he spoke to us a nation. For the time that he spoke we were a united nation of all colors and peoples. We were not individuals but we were a country coming to terms with ourselves as we aged. It really did feel as if we were coming of age. This man took the rage and hopelessness that he felt in the air, (it was electric) and channeled that energy into something that we should have been doing all along. ...
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...1960 Diary Entries HIS/135 Rachel Pearson 09/21/13 Cynthia Krutsinger Witness to the assassination of Malcolm X Malcolm X was a Muslim that became one of the greatest men that influential African Americans. Malcolm X was a victim of racism before he was even born. A White supremacist broke out his parents windows. When Malcolm was in junior high he was the only black student in the entire school. One afternoon, on February 21, 1965 Malcolm X was assassinated by the Nation of Islam minutes before he was about to address a rally in Harlem, New York. The questions surrounding about his death of this puzzling and fearless man still troubles us. The Files of Malcolm X, reveals The Smoking Guns in the FBI reports, which was dated for February 22, 1965, the files declares that Malcolm X had 10 gun shots penetrating to the chest, his thigh and ankle, also there were 4 bullets pleats into his chest and thigh. When his autopsy was done, they found 1 gun noticed as a millimeter slug, 1 - 45 caliber slugs, with numerous shotgun shots, that were all around and about in his body, torn through the heart of Malcolm X. I will say that Malcolm X was a very brave and stand up type of guy that did a lot to make blacks feel more connected to African American heritage. He stood up for African Americans and spoke out words and things that they were too afraid to say. He educated them on how to stand up for themselves and their rights as how to carry themselves as black men. He was so...
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...1960s Diary Entries Lashanda Sanford HIS/135 Karen Rogers 1960s Diary Entries African-American student enrolling in Ole Miss October 1, 1962 The history of America has been far from fair for minorities and we have not been treated equally. We have fought very hard for our rights and many people have lost their lives trying to gain equality for all races. I had always dreamed about going to Ole Miss and after the Supreme Court ruled in James Meredith’s favor in September, my dream finally came true. I never thought that I would have a fair chance at education and I am excited to have the opportunity to be enrolling at such a great university. I will be the first person in my family that is going to attend college and for that, I am grateful. Times have not always been easy especially facing segregation and racial discrimination. James Meredith constantly applied to enroll at Ole Miss but each and every time he was turned down because of the color of his skin. So he did what he had to do and got the NAACP involved and the Supreme Court finally decided to rule in his favor. That moment was very important to me and my family members. Our ancestors were not allowed to learn or attend college simply because of their race, but we now have a chance to make history and make a change! I will be the first to admit that when I heard about the integration of the schools and colleges I did not think...
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...RS Assessment – Holocaust Diary Entry. January 27th 1945. I thought I’d experienced the worst any man could experience, being shot at day in and day out, seeing my friends killed alongside me, people I had known for years, just gone like that, being forced to camp on boggy, cold fields with just a mug of coffee to keep the harsh winter away. But no, I was wrong, oh so very wrong. Today has shocked me; I am speechless to say the least. I have seen things that have made me physically sick. Things that would be expected in hell even. This morning at 08:00 hours we stormed the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp, situated in Northern Poland. The German Schutzstaffel (SS), some of the most feared, ruthless and cold blooded killers in the German military on guard were simply overwhelmed by the surge. This was just like a normal day for us, until we entered the camp. Nothing had prepared us for the sights and the things we were about to experience. Standing on the mushy, boggy, soaking wet, muddy ground, I looked around me, the commotion had settled down and for the first time I realised the sheer size of the camp. It was bordered by a double layered barb wire fence, blood stained pieces of torn cotton (from the inmates striped pyjamas) that were attached to the barbed wire fluttered gently in the ice cold winter breeze. The intimidating guard towers stood tall and strong as if watching over the camp, then the large, thin wooden cabins drew my attention. I advanced to the thick...
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...Philippe looked out of the stain glass window of the carriage, watching the buildings progressively become more sparse, and feeling the abrupt rise and fall of the chariot as the road became rougher as they exited the city. He was on his way a plantation in Plaine du Nord, a settlement due south west of the Cap Haitien. It was evening now, and although the sun was setting, the heat of the summer day still hung in the air. Through the lush palm leaves above the chariot, Philippe saw dark grey clouds beginning to form and heard the rumble of distant thunder. The carriage skipped and jumped and one of the horse’s neighed as the right wheel skipped a pothole, the soldier to adjacent to Philippe inside the carriage muttered in discomfort, there were three more soldiers accompanying the driver outside. “I pass that on my patrol every day, you think they would’ve fixed that by now”, the soldier uttered with detest. Philippe didn’t acknowledge his comment, instead gazing out the window, watching the swaying dark green foliage of the ferns, palms and sugarcane plants in the evening light. “BOOM” Suddenly, the carriage seized, violently rattling the inside. Philippe's head slammed against the stained glass window. Dazed, Philippe his arm to his head, feeling a welt beginning to form. Something in his forearm felt off, a sharp pain shot up into his shoulder, he removed his hand from his head to find blood on his palm. “What was that?”, Philippe grunted to the soldier next to him, who...
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...On November 15 of 1890 I met this kid that just started coming to my school and I went over to talk to him his name is Eddie. As we start talking, he seems like a really nice kid and so we become friends, but as we keep talking, he starts to cough and I just thought that he had a cold so we talk before we walked into class. Lunch comes around and he’s in my lunch so I go and sit by him and we keep talking and tells me he’s from a different country. As we leave lunch, he tells me that he has more than just a cold and that he has meningitis and that he is super ill but it’s not contagious that's why he is at school. So as we get to know each other better and Christmas break comes around and we go home, we don’t have phones or anything so we can’t get a hold of each other to hang out. So as winter break ends, we head back to school and I look for him before school and I realize he wasn’t at school, I didn’t think anything of his meningitis because it was the end of break. I figured that he was just with his family still but he actually passed away but I didn’t find that out until the newspaper came out the next day. It had the day his funeral was going to be and so I wanted to go so I skipped school and to the funeral after the funeral service, I talked to his mom and she said that they were going to get a statue in memory of him. It is going to be a bronze angel and they were going to put his ashes under it in the cemetery. As we kept talking she said they were going to be moving...
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...“Are you hungry? I was thinking about going to get a pizza if you want to come with.” Edgar looked back at his apartment, his computer being just about the only source of light. The project waiting for him had at least three more hours of work. What else was he going to do tonight? “Yeah sure, I guess,” Eddie said casually. “Awesome, we’ll take my car,” Drake said sounding somewhat excited. It was unusual because most of the people in the building were too poor to afford cars. They walked down a few flights of stairs and came out the front door. Parked at the curb directly in front of them was a shiny red convertible. Drake got in as Eddie stared in amazement. At first it looked as though Drake was joking, jumping into someone else’s car as part of a prank. But to Eddie’s shock Drake pulled a key from his pocket which miraculously fit. The car roared to life with the turn of the key. Eddie got in, nervous that he might mess something up. “You won’t mess anything up,” Drake said as if he were reading Eddie’s mind. Just like that, they were flying down the street. Drake behind the wheel was terrifying and comforting at the same time. On one hand, he had a clear disregard for traffic laws. Yet on the other, he pulled off everything with pure confidence that you couldn’t help but trust him. He flew along, weaving in and out of traffic, speeding up at red lights and making it through intersections of cars. Finally, they made it to the pizza place, a parking space open directly out...
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... Today is going to be a big day for the history of Scotland. After much tragedy, caused by the greed of the worst kind of men, order will finally be reestablished with the coronation of our new king: Macbeth. I, Ross, and all of the other noblemen of Scotland were invited to his castle for supper as part of the coronation tradition. I do have some concerns, however, about this whole ordeal, and that concern is shared amongst a handful of the other noblemen. Macbeth is certainly a worthy warrior, and his status in combat is proven and legendary. His capability to lead an empire, though, is not something that will have me rest easy. There is a reason that the warriors and kings are often different people. I hope Macbeth is an exception to this. As I arrive at the colossal structure before me, I see some of the other invitees coming in as well. All are nicely dressed, and some have apparently come to the same thoughts as I have, their faces full of unwanted anticipation, as if they were expecting something significant to happen, but would rather it didn't. Most are just pleased to move on with their lives. We all enter through the castle entrance once the rather interesting guard opens it, and we proceed up to the entrance of the main hall itself. The place is enormous and well tended to. The main hall is also quite something to behold. Luxurious furnishings are strewn about the inside perimeter, along with a table built to hold what seems to be a hundred men. A gourmet is already...
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...Today’s the day that we going to Strawberry. We’s going to sell butter, eggs and milk. Once we get there I start unloading the milk from the wagon. Then I see Cassie and Big Ma arguing about where we parked the wagon I don’t understand why but i didn’t really care at the time. Oh yeah, I forgot we had to bring T.J because his family had to buy some stuff from Mr. Barnett. So when we was done sellin’ the milk, butter, and eggs we went over to Mr. Barnetts mercantile to buy some stuff for T.J’s family. Once we get in the store T.J wants to show us something. He wanted to show us a pearl-handled pistol that he really wanted. It was very expensive, well apparently he wanted super bad but I knew he would never get it I mean what would he use it...
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...Entry 1: I have 3 wonderful kids and a husband. Tamar is my oldest daughter, she is 8 years old and is a very smart, beautiful, young woman. Then I have a son, he goes by the name of Thomas. He is 3 years old, and is a very bold, adventurous, young man. I can just tell he’s going to be a heartbreaker. The youngest one of the Ellers is Tabitha who’s 1, and she’s a very quirky, young girl. Oh my sugar sticks she reminds me so much of myself with those distinctive facial expressions, they crack me up. Then I have my very supportive husband, and I definitely wouldn’t be the same without him. Roger is a farmer, he puts in a lot of effort into his job, and I couldn’t be more proud of him. Oh, I almost forgot I am Rachel Eller and this is my life. Today Roger gave me the news that we are moving to Oregon because of how’s the crops here in Missouri are doing. I am very excited to get a new start, but I’m also scared to leave my mom here. She was a...
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... I decided to return in November. It was not an easy decision but I wanted to go how Gatsby has coped over the past year. I wanted to know if he had given up or decided to go look for Daisy again. I have not spoken to Tom or Daisy since they decided to abandon all responsibility for the death of Myrtle Wilson, nor do I plan to. I could never forgive her for what she has done. I do find what she has done, through her eye, was right. It was because she was careless, confused, and drunken with the love she had for Gatsby that meant nothing to her. All of the East Eggers, including Tom and Daisy, were careless. They would cover what ever wrong they had done with all there money, as if it was a escape route, to let other people clean up the mess they created. It was not easy as I made my way through the Valley of Ashes, all of the memories I wish I could forget and never haunt me again. The sign of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg was still up. The blue had this particular what almost look like patina that gave it hints of green. His eyes did not seem as daunting as they had before, it was as if power was back in control. The boards holding him up were crumbling as you watched it. The iron border holding the sign was staining the it even more. It was raining out so as I traveled by it almost looked as though he was crying, as if something -- again was about to happen. My return brought back so many memories. I managed to find what used to be my house being taken over by the surrounding weeds...
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...Dearest Brother, How fondly I remember you. To think one of the Yankee's is my dear brother. I've written to mother twice up North in Massachusetts. I know she does not think of writing back. What pain it brings me to say this, but I am not giving up on the Confederacy. I do not plan on leaving. What do you fight for? For the federals? Brother, you are fighting for injustice. You wish for a group of those high in power to muffle the cries and rights we have. What is democracy without the opinion of the people? Isn't the higher authority the citizens? I do not recognize what reasons you fight for. Your army generals think of America as a group, a group that must be controlled by some. Do not tell me you fight for morality, you heavily supported slavery against our grandfather's wishes. In the North, there are slaves. Those immigrants and the kin of those immigrants, who dreamt of money falling out of trees in America, now, starve exactly how they did in their homeland. You pay them but not enough to live. At least here the slaves eat. There is no morality in the North. We all know you Yankee have started the slave business. With your greediness, demanding more and more from us. We are common workers and businessmen. But pay no attention to that, what pains me more than you being a Yankee is how the war has torn our family apart. The war has not only teared America apart but us too. Like I've said earlier, Mother has made no effort to contact me. I know this because Sister...
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...ndrea Cui Mrs. Briggs Eng- 03 2016. 12. 13 Journal Entry Date: November twenty weather: sunny Dear diary, today was the worst and most “terrifying” day that I had ever had in my whole life. I still cannot understand what was going on. My body is still trembling, my hands and legs begin to numb. It is like a terrible nightmare, yet I don’t even know how to express my feelings. I know a nineteen year old girl who was called Mayella. She only spent two or three years at school, and she lost her mother when she was little. Her father, who was Mr. Ewell was a drunk, and she didn’t even have any friends at all. Sometimes, I feel sorrowful for her; she might be the...
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