Well I see you have made it to my bio page,
so now its time for you to get a cup of coffee, or tea, or whatever
you drink, and sit back and read about me.
You got a little
tast of what Story is all about on the main page, but here, for those
of you who are brave of heart, is the real stuff. Basically probably
the things that have made me whom I am today.
My real name
is Liana Evans, I was born April 18, 1971, in a small town, called
Frackville, in the state of Pennsylvania. I basically had a normal
childhood. No dysfunctional families, no bizarre rituals, and to
my amazement, my parents are still together after 25 years. I did, however,
have somewhat of a clutzy childhood, from the time I was in
kindergardern until my senior year of high school, I managed to
break my arms 6 times, 3 times on each arm. But the clutziness seemed to
have rubbed off once I graduated from North Schuylkill High School, in 1989.
During my high school years I attend both North Schuylkill High School and The
South Schuylkill Vocational Technical School, where my major was
computer technologies. I have always had a knack for computers, since I was
in the sixth grade, so when I got the chance, I made sure I went further with
my education, and spent my sophmore, junior and senior years, learning all
I could about computers.
Also during my wonderful high school years, I ran
cross country and was on the track team, running the long distance events and
throwing the javalin. I was even on cheerleading, *gasp*.. yes, Story was a cheerleader,
for a year. Unfortunately when I was in tenth grade, I got pneumonia, I recovered but,
not without adding chronic bronchitis to my health. So where does this all lead you ask?
This will play revelance in a few sentences ahead... so keep reading.. *smile*.
Now, where was I? At my high school years, yes, so I was somewhat of a jock in
high school, and at that a rebel, mainly because "Techers" (those of us who went to
Vo-Tech), were seen as more or less the scum of the earth, but in my usual fashion, I
did not really care about what other people thought.
During my senior year, I decided I wanted more out of my
life than to stay in Schuylkill County, I wanted to see the world.
Not having an exuberhant amount of money, or not being the daughter
of millionares, I decided the only way to do that would be one way.
THE ARMY. So I wandered into the recruiting office one day in October of 1988,
and met Sgt. Iams, they signed me up in the usual fashion, and the bronchitis was
not a problem. I was on my way to being a soldier for Uncle Sam and out of
what I have come to call Anthractie Hell.
Thinking my future set, I continued on with my Senior year without to
many cares, and continued with the sports. The track season started the
beginning of February, training and such, then the competitions
started in March. One of the meets against a rival school was on a
rather unusually hot day, and while running the 1600 meter, I fell over
with Heat Stroke. Which, unfortunately resulted in my bronchitis, turning
into Asthma. Something which is a No, No to Uncle Sam.
As a good soldier should, I reported this new finding to my new recruiter, Sgt. Richardson
and he said, not to worry, things would be fine. So I figured, Great! I'm still a soldier!
My intended date of arrival at Ft. Dix, NJ was to be June 20, 1989, about a week after
graduation. Everything all packed up and ready to go, I was on my way, first to Wilkes-Barre,
to be received in, and where I found out that instead of Ft. Dix, I was headed for Ft. Jackson,
S.C., this would turn out to be the ending of my army plans.
I arrived in Columbia, S.C., on a very muggy, hot, and humid day. I remember it well, it was raining,
and the humidity was unbearable, so much so I had to use my inhaler. Of course upon arriving to
reception batallion, I was scared beyond belief. Not wanting to be thrown in the brig as we were threatened
to have done to us, if we did not tell of all the medications we had, I willing wrote down about my inhaler,
and asthma medication. Eventually, I made it to "C"harlie Company Building, to await moving to basic training
camp. Until I got a order to report to the Warrant Officer's office. That is where the questions of my
asthma came about, and why I was even there. So after a battery of tests and more tests, I was sent to the Major
who, more or less told me, I could fight and stay, but it would probably end up not worth much, as this was a peace
time army and they were downsizing.
I decided, it was probably not meant for me to be, so with inhaler in hand
I headed back to Pennsylvania, dreams crushed, and no clue where to go to next.
