Describes The Unsafe Condition As: Fill & Download for Free

This is me at 16 feeling about as sad as I could feel.my mother had taken me at age 10 and my brother 13 away from our father and she ended up having a complete meltdown she went from being a nurse to being on welfare and molested us .she cried all day and would fly into fits of rage and torture us in various ways if we didn’t play her game of confessing to had tried to sexually molest us that day at school .She would make us act out sexually with each other , shaved our heads , made us give up all our possessions, made us go door to door to collect bottles for a fake charity so we could get food .At the family court hearing to determine custody my aunts and uncles had come from all over Canada to tell the courts she wasn’t doing well and offered to take my brother and I in ( I never knew about this ) the courts had a home study done and had suggested my mother not have custody and that our home environment seemed unsafe , but the judge decided to let us remain with her .we bounced around to quite a few different places to live and my brother left , not sure where he went . I took care of my mother the best I could as she spent most days crying .i tried my best to be happy despite everything, I enjoyed playing the cello , doing art and painted part of a mural in a high school and was on the news for my elaborate face painting designs I was doing when I volunteered at the children’s festival . I became vegetarian because I didn’t want animals to suffer in life . I gave away my stuffed animals to kids in the neighbourhood that didn’t have any and brought home any animals in distress I found .At 12 years old we were staying at some kind of boarding room or student rooms or something and I asked my mom if I could go to a party that Beth , Karen , and Sue ( beautiful girls around 20 I admired and followed around ) we’re going to and she said yes . They met up with some guys from the Army and we went to an empty apartment( except 3 beds in the bedrooms)and everyone drank except me and when it got late the girls paired off with various guys and left me in the living room with one guy passed out and Neal a 24 year old man in the Army ( stationed in Winnipeg in 1984–1985 in case anyone knows him ) and he started climbing on top of me .i had no idea what I was supposed to do , where I was , if this was normal and expected as the others had all gone off to rooms to do this , I froze , I tried to squirm away from his kissing me , but he held me still . I froze . He raped me and in the morning when the other girls saw semen stains on my skirt they got really mad . They took back to my mother there was some conversations but I don’t know about what and shortly after this my mother gave me away to the government.I remember the social workers telling her “ don’t worry , we’ll take good care of her “. This would later become a very angering sentence to remember due to their complete failure.the first place they took me was to a receiving home where I was the only white child and the only non violent one as I soon found out . The aboriginal girls would kick my bed all night telling me not to move , corner me and slap me in the face and say “ don’t look at me when I’m talking to you “ then laugh and slap me again and say “ look at me when I’m talking to you “ they would hold me down and tattoo me until staff interrupted them and told them to let me go .the second place was a group home and had the same problems with some of the same girls. There was one girl I liked although she was tough and had been quite accustomed to violence she was also funny. One night we were laughing and talking past bedtime and a male staff came in and dragged me off the bed by my foot and dragged me into the living room and sat on me crushing my lungs so I couldn’t breath , I was panicking and gasping for air and he dug his fingers into my neck to cut off more air and asked me if I promised to behave, I agreed and he let me go. He did the same to the other girl and she freaked out screaming and kicking and laughing at him , she eventually agreed too .Other than that one girl I was again being assaulted everyday so I mentioned it to one of the staff in the hopes I could be taken somewhere safer. The staff to my surprise called a meeting with the other girls and asked them if they hit me .these were violent girls who had been conditioned to violence since a young age , who took joy in being sadistic and the staff thought they for some reason were above lying which seemed like ridiculous notion to me . The girls denied it while saying how hurt they were and how they just wanted to be my friend and when the staff wasn’t looking at them they’d mouth the words “ you’re dead “ and hit their hand into their fist . The meeting concluded with the staff member telling me not to lie .That night the girls gathered in one of the rooms to discuss what they were going to do to me and after they said “ let’s get her “ and started heading to my room I ran out of the room into the bathroom and locked the door . I was terrified, I couldn’t ask the staff to protect me , I couldn’t stay here and if I ran out the front door the staff would just catch me and bring me back . I needed a plan . I tried to think of ways that I might be removed from this place and went over the options in my head and figured I could hurt someone but it’s not in my nature , I could hurt myself and looked around the bathroom and saw shaving razors and thought about cutting myself but didn’t want to do that . I thought if the staff believed the girls so easily with their pathetic acting perhaps I could make them believe me too so I opened the door and ran past the girls trying to grab me and went down the stairs and asked the staff if they had any sharp objects , they asked why and I told them because I wanted to hurt myself . Now this was a very poorly worded suicidal conversation indeed but the best I could come up with and to my surprise it worked and the staff jumped up and ran to the phone and called the police !i went and sat on the couch happily waiting for my rescuers and feeling quite happy my plan worked so well . When the police arrived I waved at them and said hi 👋🏻, they seemed confused and wanted to clarify I was the suicidal girl . Eventually the staff convinced them I was and we left . My mother had been a nurse and I volunteered there often as a child and was always treated well there so I had assumed that’s where they would take someone suicidal . I did confess to the police that I wasn’t suicidal but that the group was violent and I was in danger .Instwad of taking me to the hospital they took me to what was a jail for violent criminals , and teens too dangerous to be free in the public . It was all gang members , prostitutes and drug addicts . I don’t know why I was taken here as a pacifist that had never hurt anyone, I’d never done drugs or drank .The day I arrived they lined up all the girls by the entrance and I came in and a man yelled out me and said “ do you smoke ?” I was really surprised an adult would ask me at 12 if I smoked . I looked at the line up of aboriginal girls ranging from 11–17 ish with tattoos in their hospital scrub like inmate clothing frowning at me and concluded that they if he asked me this it must be likely that some of them were smokers and I should try not to stand out anymore than I already did so I said “ yes “ and he said “ well get in line “ so I did and another staff handed me some money .We went through a few metal locked doors and hallways and up at the “ canteen “ which was just 2 vending machines and I waited in line as all the girls went before me buying smokes , chips and a pop . I didn’t like pop so I bought smokes , chips and a chocolate bar .They gave us enough money to buy 1 pack but as I became addicted that pack only lasted a couple days but if you waited until a staff member was smoking and yelled out “ last drags “ you could have their cigarette just before they put it out . Once a week they played bingo and you could win prizes . 1st prize was a pack of smokes and a bag of chips and a pop ,2nd place got 10 smokes and chips , and 3rd place got 5 smokes and a pop . I tried to fit in but these girls only seemed to talk about sex , prostitution, the best place to stand , the best techniques, where to score drugs etc . It became obvious to them I didn’t fit in and they pretty much wanted to make me behave like them or beat me up so I spent most of my time in my cell crying or listening to music or looking out the plastic window or counting the cinder blocks on the wall .They had “ date night “ where teenage boys who were housed elsewhere in the building would come over to our side and watch a movie with the light out . This was reminiscent of what happened with the army man , just people trying to grab me and hold me still to touch me .i decided my cell was the safest option and the staff were very angry I wouldn’t leave my room and socialize so every time they dragged me out I soon figured out that you would get sent to your cell as punishment for acting out violently so I would pick something up and throw it or yell and they’d drag me back to my cell where they’d let me stay . Sometimes they’d drag me across the carpet and I’d get rug burn all over my face and legs , sometimes they’d get mad and put my arms way high behind my back but a bit of brief pain was better than being on constant edge waiting for the attacks from the girls .on movie night I’d try to watch from room and peer out my 8 x 8 inch window in my door but the staff said the movie is only a reward for those who behaved so they’d put a piece of paper up over my window so I couldn’t watch the movie . There was usually a tiny gap I could peer through or if I put my head to the floor I could hear it through the crack at the bottom of the door ,sometimes I’d watch a bit then lay down and listen a bit and I could get the gist .Sometimes they’d lock me up in a closet they called “ the hopper room “Occasionally they would take all the girls to another place for some kind of event . If I acted up enough ahead of time they wouldn’t take me and I’d get the place to myself . I’d play pool and watch tv and relax while a staff or two had to stay to keep an eye on me .There was one door in the building that if you kicked really hard at the right angle it would open and sometimes the alarm wouldn’t go off , the girls used it to go prostitute and do drugs . I didn’t have anywhere to go but I’d use it to go sit in the field beside the building . I’d relax all day enjoying the sun and thinking about life . When I was tired or hungry I’d go to the front door and ask to be let in . I guess because 99% of the girls that ran away went and did the same things they didn’t believe me that was just outside , always found it odd they didn’t see me just sitting in the field on the property but they insisted that all the girls write a 2 page essay explaining what they did while they were AWOL . I was always upset about this because I couldn’t figure out how to write for 2 pages that I sat outside for 10 hours . How could I make that drag out to two pages ? They didn’t believe me and would interrogate me as to what I’d done and if I had sold my body .That was my routine for 3–4 years until they let me out to go live on an independent living program run by the Catholic Church run by Marymound a program run by the sisters of good shepherd .I used most of the money they gave me on cigarettes and didn’t have enough for bills , rent , and groceries .i still didn’t know how to keep men off me so I became pregnant and told my social worker who told me to meet her the next day at the Winnipeg Women’s Hospital . I met her and she told me I had to sign papers agreeing to abort my baby . I told her I didn’t want to and cried and she said I wasn’t fit to be a mother , she said I didn’t have enough money . I told her I wanted to keep my baby and I’d promise to be a good mother but she said no . I cried for an hour , pacing up and down in the area where people do paperwork before surgery . The office staff ignored my pleas , the nurses and doctors did too .I was too afraid to run out of the building because I knew they could lock me up again or choke me or do any of things to me they’d already done .After an hour I was exhausted and gave up . 6 months later we did the same thing .After that I gave up on caring about my body . I couldn’t keep men off me , I couldn’t keep the government, doctors , or Catholic Church out of my body and had spent so many years being interrogated about prostitution and trained about it that it seemed like the best option .The first time I wore a long skirt and heels and a blazer . I’d always been conservative so it took me quite awhile to lose my modesty and show skin .This photo was in a bedroom with a stranger I had met at the bar who wanted to take photos of me . I was 16 and renting a room from my father who insisted I pay rent if I had a job ( prostitution) because money mattered more than his daughter.Wake up get a taxi , go to the liquor store get a large bottle of Kahlua, go to Blockbuster and pay for my pretty woman rental late fees , by something to eat and watch pretty women while drink Kahlua and milk and getting ready to go to work . Do my hair and make up , put on my six inch stilettos and walk down the street from the suburbs heading to downtown listening on my Walkman to the pretty woman soundtrack until someone offered me a ride . Then go to a bar called The Spectrum and read a book and have a few Baileys Irish Cream shots then head to work .This photo is of that time .I was a prostitute from 16–21 had about 5,000 sexual encounters and 3 more pregnancies which I automatically aborted because I’d already been taught I was too inferior or broken to ever become a mother .I made a good friend Gerry Atwell who used to watch TV with me on the phone and we’d discuss life and ethics , I watched neon rider a tv show about social workers trying to help kids and started thinking maybe the social workers , government and Catholic Church staff were wrong . I watched the highlander and tried to learn about ethics and decide what I wanted mine to be . When I got a couple cats I realized that I wasn’t providing them with a stable enough life so I quit prostitution.id like to give you more of a happy ending but it was me getting and losing about 60 jobs and changing apartments as often from getting evicted . I always made sure those cats were safe and happy though . I added more cats and had 9 , I found them lost and alone and freezing to death or in violent homes . I protected them and they all lived into their 20’s .i managed some apartment buildings and learned how to paint and now have my own painting company with my husband . Everyday I research about lawyers and laws and make calls trying to get help . I sent away for my records , I reported being raped at 12 to the police . I call lawyers and human rights agencies etc trying to piece things together so I can finally demand that others see that it wasn’t their right to lock me up , beat ,have sex with , or take my children out of my body as they wanted .i fight everyday to come up with a new plan to find the right person to help to be able to let the social workers know that they aren’t psychic and had no right to predict what kind of mother they thought id be and deprive me of motherhood and the lives of my innocent children .The happy ending may never come but I’ll jerp fighting to stand up for myself and all those other girls they did this to.Please excuse my grammar as my highest grade completed is grade 7.

Q: What instigated the O-ring failure prior to the Challenger shuttle disaster?Main engine throttle up.As Robert Frost described, the SRB segments were in less than pristine condition and cold weather deprived the o-rings resiliency, but the actual deterioration that led to failure began when the orbiter brought its engines to full power just prior to liftoff.It was not generally appreciated through much of the shuttle program just how great was the effect of the asymmetrical thrust. When the main engines throttled up for launch, the entire stack shifted over about a meter. This put enormous stress on the SRBs, still bolted to the pad. On the chilly morning of January 28, 1986, this stress was enough to open a momentary breach in an SRB inter-segment seal and permit a brief puff of exhaust gas to escape.The puff of smoke vanished, as mounting heat and pressure forced the o-ring into the gap, and that might have been that. The SRB operated normally, with nominal internal pressure, for nearly one minute. 56 seconds after launch, right as the shuttle reached max q, it passed through a strong wind shear that caused the booster to flex just as it had at liftoff, reopening the wound in that already abraded SRB seal.SRB pressure dropped as hot exhaust started leaking through the breach, enlarging it, and eating through the SRB and ET structure. In less than ten seconds, the plume had breached the hydrogen tank. Seconds later, the SRB attachment strut failed and the SRB rotated against the ET, causing it and then the shuttle to disintegrate.Without the wind shear, the shuttle likely would have made orbit normally. Without the blow past at launch, the wind shear likely would not have been a problem. Without the decision to launch in excessively cold conditions, the blow past at launch would not have occurred. Had the SRB been composed of all new segments, it likely would have withstood both the flexing at launch and during the wind shear.Engineering failures are almost always the result of a long string of contributing factors. That’s why you never ignore warning signs or rely on backups and redundancy to compensate for an unsafe condition. When you do so, you are playing Russian Roulette—often with other people’s lives.

As a First Responder to numerous motor vehicle crashes, I can say that the most significant problem with lifted trucks is the exaggerated difference in bumper height with other cars and trucks. In a collision, this disparity creates an unsafe condition wherein the shorter vehicle contacts the taller at a point well above its protective structure, ie: the truck strikes the car at a much higher location and the truck’s bumpers intrude into the passenger compartment of the car, usually at the glass line or higher. I have witnessed collisions where the smaller, lower vehicle went under the lifted truck, with fatal results for the car occupants.State MV inspection criteria usually limit the amount of lift permitted, but these regulations are not always enforced.Headlight aiming is a problem with lifted trucks. Blinding oncoming traffic is a frequent complaint.The raising of the center of gravity causes instability and emergency handling deficits making avoiding crashes less likely.Other than for off-road use, there is little if any benefit other than style for a truck used on public roads shared with unmodified height vehicles.Lifted trucks are more difficult to load, hard to enter and dismount, more troublesome to keep clean, remove snow and ice, and are more dangerous as described above.If you want to go bogging, rock-crawling and other activities requiring a modified suspension, do it off-road with all the big wheels, extended shocks and links for that specialized task, and trailer your ride to that fun site. Don’t put yourself and others at risk.