Tail Spin

Two dolphins race around in a big pool in the Ocean Park. The smaller dolphin, Grace, shows of her tricks, turning around and waving hello to the crowd. The most amazing thing about her, however, is that she's even swimming at all. She doesn’t have a tail.

Grace lost her tail as a baby when she got caught up in a fish trap. When the dolphin arrived at the Ocean Park in December 2005, she was fighting for her life. “Is she going to make it?” Her trainer, Abbey Stone, feared the worst. Grace did make it—but her tail didn't. She ended up losing her flukes and the lower part of her peduncle.

Over the past six years, she has learned to swim without her tail. Dolphins swim by moving their flukes and peduncle up and down. Grace taught herself to move another way—like a fish! She pushes herself forward through the water by moving her peduncle from side to side.

The movements put harmful pressure on Grace' s backbone. So a company offered to create a man-made tail for her. The tail had to be strong enough to stay on Grace as she swam but soft enough that it wouldn't hurt her.

The first time Grace wore the artificial tail, she soon shook it off and let it sink to the bottom of the pool. Now, she is still learning to use the tail. Some days she wears it for an hour at a time, others not at all. “The new tail isn't necessary for her to feel comfortable,” says Stone, “but it keeps to keep that range of motion and build muscles.”

Now, the dolphin is about to get an even happier ending. This month, Grace will star in Dolphin Tale, a film that focuses on her rescue and recovery. Her progress has inspired more than just a new movie. Many people travel from near and far to meet her. Seeing Grace swim with her man-made tail gives people so much courage.

When a fire broke out in my home in the middle of the night, I knew I'd do anything I could to save my family. The medicine that I take for my rheumatoid arthritis causes me to wake up in the middle of the night with a dry mouth. January 15, 2016, was no different. I, Indiana, US, awoke at 2:30am needing water.

I was walking back upstairs from the kitchen when I heard my bulldog , Rock. Whatever Rock was doing down there, it made enough noise for me to go to him. By the time I made it to the bottom of the stairs, he was running up, and he never came up the stairs, no matter what. I think that was his way of telling me, "We've got to go back up. "When I got to the top of the stairs, I turned around and saw a light on, but I didn't remember leaving one on. I walked downstairs again, and that's when I saw fire. I immediately shouted to my wife to wake up and get our three kids. I grabbed a knife and cut out the plastic that covered the window to the porch roof. I then pried open the window and kicked out the screen. I started screaming for help. But help never came. I got everybody out on the roof and threw a blanket out there so we wouldn't slip off. It was cold, January cold. Then I started screaming for help. But help never came.

Now, I'm scared of heights and have physical issues, what with my rheumatoid arthritis, but I couldn't let my family burn up. So I jumped off the roof. I didn't scoot to the edge; I just jumped and got the wind knocked out of me when I landed. I found our ladder, placed it against the house, and climbed back up to the roof. I wrapped my arms around my daughter and carried my nine - month - old with my teeth, by his little sleeper. Then I climbed down the ladder. Once on the ground, I had my little girl hold her brother, and I went back up to the roof to get my other daughter. Then I went back up again and got my wife. I tried to get my dog, but he just disappeared in the black smoke. I never saw him alive again,

I'm no hero. I'm just an ordinary person who'd help anybody. This happened to be the time when I helped my own family. I live to protect my family. Just likeRock—he lived to protect us.

I stood outside my front door catching my breath. After a lazy Christmas holiday, I had to recover from climbing stairs with carry-on bags and a suitcase. I looked up and blinked. Red tape crossed the door. I didn’t understand Hungarian, but the one English word said enough: “POLICE”.

Google Translate told me I would be arrested if I entered, so I didn’t. Finally, I called my rental agent. He went to the police station for more details.

My agent returned with authorization to enter. Not only were my files undisturbed, but so were the TV and printer. The burglars had taken a few items from the top drawer as well as a small amount of foreign currency in the bottom drawer. Somehow they hadn’t found the jewelry box in the third drawer.

I was in shock. My agent’s words were fuzzy, something about fixing the locks tomorrow and making a list for the police.

Then one day, I remembered that I’d left another jewelry box in the flat. My heart sank as I thought of another locket that had been in that box, a gold engraved one with a picture of my late honey Grandma inside. When I realized the box was missing, the whole experience seemed to crash down on me. I cried.

At the end of January, I received a registered letter from the police. The burglar hadn’t been found, and the case was closed. I slept with my purse by my bed. I hid my laptop when I showered. And then another challenge rose. I was unexpectedly laid off.

Then one July night, I reached into my third drawer, pulled out my jean shorts, and heard a small thud. I looked down and blinked: It was the tiny jewelry box I thought had been stolen six months earlier.

Inside was the locket with honey Grandma smiling at me, being there for me, telling me not to give up. I started to cry.