[“I’m Afraid Of…” is a blog series where I reveal the things I am most afraid of, whether just as a child or to this day. Oh the things I do for the sake of writing.]
Let me reveal something to you, the audience. The faithful who read this blog need to know something about me. When I was little, elevators were my worst fear. Not anymore, of course. I’m sure as you continue to read this blog, you’ll learn those, but for now… elevators.
There were times when my parents and I would go to a hospital or office complex, and I would literally kick and scream and downright throw a tantrum. Was it because I didn’t get the candy bar I wanted? No.
No… it was because they were about to make me ride an elevator.
I was a smart kid. I knew how they worked. I knew that if the elevator failed I would drop hundreds of feet. Combine that with a few “ELEVATOR DEATH TRAP” scenes from TV shows and movies, and could you blame me for being a nervous wreck?
I would always insist that we take the stairs. At least in the stairs I controlled my own destiny. I may still be at risk of falling hundreds of feet down a stairwell, but at least it would be my own clumsiness doing it.
I did not get over that fear until ninth grade, when I went on a youth trip to Gatlinburg TN. I finally felt comfortable using the things. But to this day, the extra shaky, extra squeaky elevators still make me have a panic attack.
So, what was your biggest fear as a child?