My Climb to Her Crown.

       A long time ago, in a far away land…. wait a minute. This is no fairy tale, although it did feel like one. Before graduating from high school, I had the wonderful opportunity to go to New York City with my family. It was quite an adventure! They were the best of times….and the worst of times. I could go on forever about my best of times, but I figured it would be exciting to tell you about my worst time: climbing the Statue of Liberty’s Crown.

Our group at the top of Lady Liberty!

       Let me first start off with saying that if you’re afraid of heights or tight spaces, this climb is not for you. With a staircase about one and a half body’s length (yea-big) and around 350 steps, the Statue of Liberty would mark both of those phobias on the list. The climb up was a challenging one. It was December in New York, which meant that we Texans were very packed with layers. But with minor claustrophobia, I did not handle this very well. I slowly took off jackets and scarves and hats and gloves until we reached the top. The view was spectacular. You could see Manhattan, and the New York Harbor was beautiful and blue. We took pictures and marveled at the view, and I silently panicked to myself about being so high up in the sky.

       I loved being up at the top, but the best was behind me. Now was the real struggle: making my way back down 350 steps to Liberty Island.  The first flight or two wasn’t so difficult. My mother was in front of me and my grandmother behind me, and they highly encouraged me to take my time. I did! My mother wanted to take a picture of the view from up on the staircase, but couldn’t get the picture just right. I offered, which was the most terrible idea. I took the picture off the side, and impulsively looked at the picture afterwards to see if it turned out okay. The picture was great, but I was quite the opposite. I got claustrophobic once again, and the fear of heights I had only increased more and more as I stayed up on that tall, winding staircase. My mother sensed me slowly moving towards insanity and tried keeping me preoccupied. She asked questions about silly things, like the shapes of the tiles on the stairs. I had come to the point where I was in tears and my eyes were so welled up with saltwater that I couldn’t even see the stairs below me. Finally we got to the bottom, and I could really breathe again.

       Climbing the Crown of the Statue of Liberty was quite an experience, if I do say so myself. While it was one that I’ll never forget, sometimes I wonder if that’s even a good thing. I highly encourage you to take the time, if you ever get the opportunity, to climb Lady Liberty. Just please don’t ask me to join you. It’s something you and I will both regret.