30 Feet Strong , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers - Hannah Paige

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

145 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

William Thomas Clark shares the initials with the World Trade Center for a reason: he was born on September 11th, 2001, at 8:46 am, the same time the first plane hit the North Tower. Because of this, he can see the ghosts of those lost on 9/11. Flash forward ten years. The memorial is about to open and William Thomas Clark enters the lives of four people in New York affected by the terrorist attacks in different ways - a retired veteran who lost his daughter to flight United 93, a widow of a first responder, a 911 operator whose first day happened to be her last, and a doctor who finds the body of the woman he loved while working the Triage Center at Ground Zero. In 30 Feet Strong, the question of how a second can send us on a downward spiral that demands our most unshakeable strength to recover is one that several characters tackle. Throughout the novel, William Thomas Clark makes these same characters see that this strength does not have to be a solitary one, it can be found in understanding the connections, often invisible, that are drawn between human beings. It just takes a second to realize that the tragedy, the trials, and the hope that can arise through the courage to move on unites us all.

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	30 août 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781528959124
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0210€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

30 Feet Strong
Hannah Paige
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-08-30
30 Feet Strong About the Author About the Book Dedication Copyright Information Prologue Part One September 10, 2001 Rick Pam Ian April Part Two May 3, 2011 Rick Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter One May 12, 2011 Pam Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter One June 1, 2011 Ian Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter One June 9, 2011 April Chapter Two Chapter Three August 1, 2011 September 11, 2011 William Thomas Clark Epilogue Rick Griffin Ian Chase Pam McCann April McCann
About the Author
Hannah Paige grew up in California and is currently studying Creative Writing at the University of Maine Farmington. She has been writing since she was six years old and has moved on from filling journals to achieving her dream of writing the books she does not see on the shelves. She has been published in the literary journals WaterSoup and Adelaide Magazine, and her first novel, Why We Don’t Wave , was released in June 2017. She continuously strives to hold herself to an equal standard as authors twice her age in the industry.
About the Book
William Thomas Clark shares the initials with the World Trade Center for a reason: he was born on September 11 th , 2001, at 8:46 am, the same time the first plane hit the North Tower. Because of this, he can see the ghosts of those lost on 9/11. Flash forward ten years. The memorial is about to open and William Thomas Clark enters the lives of four people in New York affected by the terrorist attacks in different ways – a retired veteran who lost his daughter to flight United 93, a widow of a first responder, a 911 operator whose first day happened to be her last, and a doctor who finds the body of the woman he loved while working the Triage Center at Ground Zero.
In 30 Feet Strong , the question of how a second can send us on a downward spiral that demands our most unshakeable strength to recover is one that several characters tackle. Throughout the novel, William Thomas Clark makes these same characters see that this strength does not have to be a solitary one, it can be found in understanding the connections, often invisible, that are drawn between human beings. It just takes a second to realize that the tragedy, the trials, and the hope that can arise through the courage to move on unites us all.
Dedication
For those whose stories were never written.
Copyright Information
Copyright © Hannah Paige (2019)
The right of Hannah Paige to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528909037 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528959124 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Prologue
I was born in New York City, on September 11th, 2001 at 8:46 am. I weighed eight pounds and four ounces. I was twenty inches long. I was born with ten fingers, ten toes, and two very light blue eyes. My name is William Thomas Clark. My birth is not what people remember about that day. My weight, my height, how many toes are on my feet… They are not the numbers that have singed the minds of Americans. My birth was but an insignificant second compared to what also occurred on that September day.
Four planes.
Eight paramedics.
Sixty police officers.
Three hundred and forty three firefighters.
Three thousand people.
Those are the numbers that people remember.
And that was all in just one day. One day that was made up of the same numbers that make up every other day: twenty-four hours, one thousand-four-hundred and forty minutes, eighty-six-thousand-four-hundred seconds.
All it takes is one second, one axis-tilting, tide-turning, world-crashing moment to make you remember, to make you notice; to make you wake up and see the people in front of you; to see your neighbors down the street and make the time to wave; to make you realize how small you are in this world. One second.
8:46 am.
My mother once told me that I was meant to be born on such a day, at such a moment, with such a name. It is because of this that I believe everything happens for a reason.
For every tree that is cut down, a new flower sprouts. For every rainy day, the sun shines a little brighter somewhere else. For every tear that is shed, a smile lights up another’s face. For every life that is taken, another is helped.
I am but one life.
That is why I believe that it is my job to help as many people as I can with my gift.
Part One
September 10, 2001

Rick
Rick Griffin liked to think that he was a good father. He made his daughter banana bread every Saturday morning. He taught her how to make her own lunches, taught her how to slice her own apple without cutting her fingers off. When she got scared of monsters in her closet, he would tell her that he went to work every day to get rid of the monsters, so she didn’t need to worry. He gave her medicine when she was sick and made sure that she always got whatever shots she needed. But any parent can tell you that on the days that their child is sad, it’s hard to reassure themselves when it comes to their parenting skills.
It shouldn’t have bothered her that much; a ten-year-old shouldn’t be so concerned over the phrase ‘parent-teacher conference’. But Grace wasn’t an ordinary young girl. Against Rick’s better judgment, he had allowed his daughter to grow up fully immersed in the military-family bubble. Grace knew how to hug hard because she had developed the intuition at a young age to know that Daddy might not come back from work for a while. He’d served three tours overseas, then when Rick and Tammy had split three years ago, he’d decided to take a different route in the military and go into intelligence work. The job change had ensured Rick his daughter in the divorce. Well, that and the fact that his ex-wife was even less stable than he was: an aspiring actress who couldn’t get out of New Jersey quick enough to fly off to California. So, the courts were less than pleased with her testimony for custody of Grace.
When Rick won custody, he truly thought of it as a victory. Then the reality of watching his daughter grow up without even the faint presence of a mother—or in a normal household—started to set in. Grace matured too fast. Some called her precocious for her age, and many adults even admired Rick for his so-called outstanding parenting skills. But it tore Rick apart whenever Grace would ask him if he wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him, when she would clean up the dishes without being asked, or when he would suggest she give Tammy a call—though he knew it would lead to a voicemail—and she would knowingly reply with a sigh and a, “I think I’d prefer to save myself the disappointment.”
If Rick had it his way, Grace wouldn’t have the word ‘disappointment’ in the first pages of the tome that made up her broad vocabulary. But he’d chosen this career and he’d fought for his daughter, blindly believing that he could have both.
Seeing Grace hunched over her peanut butter bagel that morning, he was blatantly reminded that he’d been wrong. She hadn’t even touched the morning paper—she read it every single morning, without fail, and not just the cartoon section.
“Grace, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll bet Miss Adkins just wants to tell me all about how great of a student you are,” Rick tried, pulling out the bread and roast beef for Grace’s lunch. Ham had been out of the question since Grace had read Charlotte’s Web last week; Rick didn’t have the heart to tell her that Wilbur had some bovine friends who often suffered from similar threats.
She sighed and chomped off a piece of her bagel, “I highly doubt it. I’ve been declining in math lately. I just can’t comprehend the topic of multiplying fractions. Why did they have to go and overcomplicate things?! I was perfectly happy with just adding a half of a pie to an eighth of a pie.”
Rick poured himself a cup of coffee to-go, “You are not ‘declining’. You’re learning. Welcome to the way most kids feel when they get introduced to a new subject.”
“Oh, really? Do most kids my age get their parent called down to see their teacher? Is this a fair representation of what it’s like to be a ‘typical’ child? Because, if so, then I’m quite content with being atypical,” she popped the last bit of her bagel in her mouth and nodded to herself quite decisively. She hopped out of her chair and added her plate to the dishwasher then set to making her lunch.
Rick shook his head, clamping the lid on his to-go mug of coffee, as he watched his daughter layer the lunchmeat on bread, then seal up the sandwich bag, careful to squeeze out the air bubbles first. She rinsed off an apple, portioned out a bag of pretzels, and tossed a juice box and the last brownie—she had made them last weekend after watching one of those cooking shows—into her lunch box. Grace clicked her lunchbox closed and caught sight of Rick chuckling at her. “What are you laughing at?” she demanded, her cheeks brightening.
He smiled. “Nothing, Miss Atypical, you ready to hit the road?”
She nodded and zipped her backpack up, after slipping her homework folder into it. Rick grabbed the car keys and opened the front door. Grace reached up, giving him her daily high-five. “Let’s rock and roll,” she said, and he followed her into the car.
He started up the Ford tr