Juliet Rosetti

Survival stories have always fascinated me, from Robinson Crusoe to Hatchet. It amazes me how resourceful people can be as they struggle to survive under the most wretched conditions. Maybe this fascination stems from my years growing up on a Wisconsin farm. When we werent helping with chores, my brothers and I were allowed an incredible amount of freedom. We roamed the woods and marshes for miles around, sometimes taking along picnic lunches and staying out all day, building tree houses, exploring, using our imaginations to create the lost cities of El Dorado or the jungles of the Amazon. At times we encoutered angry swarms of bees, swamp water up to our armpits, thickets of brambles, or trigger-happy skunks. No adults around to help uswe had to rely on our wits and rural equivalent of street smarts to get us out of predicaments. Muddy, bloody, burred, and bug-bitten, wed eventually return home, eager to tell about the days adventures, but not spill too much, lest we jeopardize future expeditions. My favorite book at the time was Caddie Woodlawn, a story about a girl much like myself growing up on the Wisconsin frontier in the 1860s.