My dad was looking at a full-ride scholarship to any college of his choice, however he ruined it all. Ten days before he and his twin brother graduated, a college scout from Indiana, I think his name was Bobby Knight, caught him at a woodsy (party) drunk as a skunk. Word eventually got around that Dave Graham wasnt college material and that he was a guaranteed failure.Dad realized that the dream he had carried since his childhood was unobtainable, all because of one night. Then it hit him, it wasnt just one night, it was almost every night.
He had to change his life.When I was ten my dad told me for the first time how he ruined his chances for a college scholarship. He said that it was the best thing that ever happened to him. After realizing the path he was headed down, dad started looking for other options. Thats when he found the Lord. Discovering the Lord changed my dad drastically. He took all his bad habits and traded them for salvation.
His life was finally going the right direction. Then I was born.My parents tell me that I was the biggest challenge ever presented. They used to tell me that I wasnt theirs, because no son of theirs would steal the cops lights and put them on the school bus. That no son of theirs would ever urinate on the principals floor. That no son of theirs would ever show up to school butt-naked. Needless to say my parents and I never got along.
My dad saw how my life was becoming more and more like his life used to be. His way for changing me was forcing God on me. And if that didnt work he would put me to work from sunup to sundown. Working kept me out of trouble only while I was working and all the church stuff was useless. I was getting worse every day.
The day school got out my freshman year; my friends and I broke into the liquor store and stole a keg of beer. After a while our rush disappeared and we went looking for some more action. Driving through town we passed the towns most prized possession: the wild horse statue. You see, one of my friends father is the chemistry teacher and so he knows how to make bombs and stuff like that, so we decided to take a trip to the school and get our ingredients for our dynamite recipe. Using a crowbar and a knife we finally got what we needed.With our explosive device ready to go we departed back to the statue.
It just so happened that the bomb fit perfect right in between the ground and the statue. Calculating the bomb to be about the size of a half stick of dynamite, I lit the fuse and ran back across the street. When the bomb blew it was like a nuclear bomb testing site. A crater about twelve feet deep and thirty feet wide was all that was left.
The street, sidewalk, grass, and statue had vanished. Dirt had been blown in every direction for about 100 yards covering everything in is way. The debris hit us all; my friend (maker of the bomb) was knocked unconscious and I suffered a large cut on my right rib cage.