Lessons await around every corner

Two marines lay on their stomachs amidst a battle. As they crawl behind shrubbery for cover, more enemy bullets whiz by their heads with each passing second.

In an attempt to lighten the dismal situation, the first soldier tells a joke to the other.

“What’s black and white and red all over,” he begins.

“What?” the other soldier replies. 

But before soldier number one can tell the punchline, he is shot to death by the enemy.

Back home, the deceased parents, unaware of their son’s fate, hear a slow knock at their front door. The mother, enjoying her morning coffee, answers and sees a marine dressed in a ceremonial uniform.

The mother understands what has happened before the marine says a word. Her coffee mug drops to the linoleum floor and shatters. She and her husband grab each other and sob, soaking their morning robes in salty tears.

A year passes, and the marriage between the mother and father has failed, as relationships often do after tragedy strikes.

The mother received almost everything in the divorce – the house, the car, most of the finances.

After several sleepless nights, the father sits on the edge of his bed in a cheap motel across town, steaming over his ever-worsening situation.

He decides he’ll take back his house, his car, his finances, maybe even his wife if she’s willing.

He takes a crummy bus to his old house and stumbles to the front door. He hears Rock n’ Roll music blaring from inside.

This infuriates the father, his wife has always hated this music.

Assuming his ex-wife is with another man, he kicks the cedar door open hysterically.

Not seeing anybody in the living room, the father sprints up the carpeted stairs, toward his old bedroom.

With the fires of murder boiling in his brain, the father rips the bedroom door open, and, do you know what he sees?

A sun-burnt penguin.

My time at The Eagle has been surprising, fruitful, but most of all, educational. Since the first day I walked into the large newsroom and gazed upon the dozens of awards and plaques adorning the wall, I’ve been bombarded with knowledge, tips, and the first amendment. I was even an English Education major before transferring to CSC. After Mr. Kennedy got ahold of me, I was quickly whisked toward the path of a journalist. Although Mr. Kennedy is the sole journalism professor at CSC, he isn’t the only media teacher I’ve had. My peers have taught me so much more than I previously thought possible, from our co-editor, Brandon Davenport, to our sports editor, Devin Fulton. Even those a bit wetter behind the ears such as Aubrie Lawrence, our other co-editor, have taught me numerous lessons. 

I’ve learned that one can learn lessons regardless of where you are, and teachers come in all shapes, sizes, and qualifications. 

Cheers to you, Eagle newspaper.