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I Am Thoroughly Fascinated By "Third Man Syndrome," So Here Are 31 Stories From People Who Lived To Share Their First-Hand Experiences
These last few months, my "Roman Empire" has been "third man syndrome." Also known as the "third man effect," it's a phenomenon that most commonly occurs in people who are in extreme distress, danger, or are about to have a near-death experience. The feeling is often described as the sense that another person is present, either giving them an unexpected sense of comfort, warning them of something awful that's about to happen, or literally (and, sometimes, physically) stepping in to intervene and prevent harm. Some people say it's like a disembodied voice or a gut feeling they can't shake. are literally visited by a "third person" in the flesh. People have come up with all kinds of explanations for the feeling, from paranormal to spiritual to psychological. However, the term itself comes from the T.S. Eliot poem, "The Waste Land," which was inspired by the real-life experience of Ernest Shackleton — an Irish explorer who went on a near-death expedition in Antarctica in 1916. After their ship got trapped in ice, he and two other members of his crew made a 36-hour-long trek over mountains and glaciers to a whaling station. During that time, each member of his three-man team — Ernest included — kept feeling like there was a fourth man alongside them. T.S. Eliot wrote this stanza inspired by that phenomenon: In case you're confused on all the numbers going on here, the members of the real-life expedition felt a "fourth member" was present, but T.S. Eliot took some artistic liberties and changed the number of people who were present, making the "additional person" the "third man." There doesn't literally have to be two people present — let alone two men — to experience the phenomenon, it's just a term that seems to have stuck! I asked BuzzFeed readers like you to share their own real-life "third man" experiences, and y'all certainly have some skin-tingling tales. Here are just 31 of them that had me questioning everything: 1."I was 20 years old and had just moved to San Francisco. I was walking to the grocery store and about to cross a busy street at an intersection. Just as I stepped off the curb, a voice in my head said, 'Don't take another step,' and it seemed like everything started happening in slow motion. Just then, a truck came flying down the street, blew the red light, and smashed into a car that was driving through the intersection. If I'd taken two more steps, I would've been smashed between the two vehicles. I'm so glad I listened to that voice." —Anonymous 2."My ex, 20 years before we met, was living with her parents in the north San Fernando Valley. She went to a party one night and was found the next morning on a sidewalk in Long Beach, unconscious with no ID. 911 was called, and three paramedics took her to a hospital, where she was pronounced dead on arrival. As the three paramedics wheeled her to the morgue, one of them detected a faint pulse. They took her back, and she was hooked up to the only life support machine of its kind on the West Coast. She was still unconscious and unidentified when her parents found her two days later. The head nurse told them the story of the three paramedics." "Her parents wanted to thank the one who saved her, so they hired an investigator. The people who called 911 saw three paramedics, and the people in the ER saw three paramedics, but the paramedics insisted there were only two that responded to the call that night. Neither of them was the one who found the pulse, and said that person must've worked at the hospital, which the others denied." —Anonymous 3."When I was 11, I was riding my bike to a friend's house after dinner. I wanted to see how fast I could get there and started to race through the neighborhood. It wasn't a busy neighborhood, and there were usually no cars parked on the street. I had my head down, pedaling, and heard a voice say, 'Look up.' The instant I looked up, I hit a parked van and went face-first into the rear windshield. Ended up with over 80 stitches in my face, but had I not looked up, I likely would have broken my neck and died. There was nobody around or outside at the time." —Andrew, Charlotte, NC Related: 4."I was taking a shortcut across a frozen reservoir on the way to a friend's house. Suddenly, the ice cracked, and I started to fall through. I felt two hands slam into my back, and I skidded across the ice. I was soaking wet when I arrived at my friend's house, cold and shivering. I told him the story as I changed into some of his clothes so we could throw mine into the dryer. My friend turned white, and his eyes were bugging out of his head. He guided me to the bathroom so I could look in the mirror, and I saw what disturbed him. There were two hand-shaped bruises forming on my back. 40+ years later, I still get chills thinking about it." —Mike, New Jersey, USA 5."I've never told this story publicly. My brother was 19, stood 6' tall, and weighed 210lbs. He decided to hike the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine. I was 21 and away at college. They (he and my mom) called me to tell me his plans. I have no idea why, but I was terrified and panicked immediately. I shouted over the phone and pleaded with him not to go, and then told my mother this was a big mistake and to NOT LET HIM GO. She tried to reason with me and tell me he was a man and could make his own decisions, but I was panicking and just kept shouting, 'NO NO NO.' He left in April 1981." He made it to Tennessee and encountered two men who took his life for his possessions. When he didn't call my mom for Mother's Day, we knew something was really wrong. They began a search that did not end until one day in August, when his body was finally recovered. He was identified by dental records. Our family was devastated, and my mother asked me how I 'knew.' I didn't, but the feeling that this was a horrible mistake and the desperation I felt was something I have never been able to understand or explain." —Danette, Vero Beach, FL 6."I was on a motorcycle in Des Moines, Iowa, and thought I would avoid traffic by going through an empty truck yard, and through the trees I saw beyond. There was a steep hill of maybe ten or twelve feet in height at the side of the yard, and I went up the hill. As I neared the top, I heard a voice in my head say, 'STOP!' Without a moment's hesitation, I put both brakes on fully. The bike barely made it to the top of the rise and stopped. I looked down and saw water from a river only three feet below me. I recall thinking, 'Oh. So that's what a levee is.' I was wearing full gear for touring, and certainly would have drowned if the voice had not spoken to me." —Ron M, Toronto, Canada 7."This happened 30 years ago. Our 3-year-old had a peanut allergy, which can be fatal. This allergy was not understood or well-known. We went to a restaurant during off-hours. The tables surrounding ours were empty. At the end of the meal, the young waitress said our child's meal came with an ice cream dessert. We were assured there were no peanuts in it and were told it was only sprinkled with chocolate-filled Smarties, so we said OK. I was watching my weight and told myself that I wasn't going to taste anyone's dessert. Also, I disliked the texture of Smarties. Just as our daughter was about to dig in, I felt a very firm push against my upper arm. I don't know why, but I didn't turn to see who did it. Instead, I reached over and grabbed a Smartie, then popped it into my mouth. It was a Reese's Pieces, filled with peanut butter." "I grabbed the dessert and went to the waitress, who said, 'Oh yeah, they mix those in along with the Smarties.' I always wondered who pushed my arm or why that prompted me to taste the Smartie, which I don't even like." —Jane, Ottawa, Canada 8."In the early '90s, when I was at most 6 years old, my older sister and parents had an event to attend that I wasn't invited to. We had some family friends who also had two daughters our ages, and they had a full-time live-in nanny. I was friends with the younger daughter, and since the family friends were invited to the same event (with the exception of the younger daughter), I was dropped off at their house for a playdate while the rest of them went, supervised by the nanny. Right as the nanny was about to start making dinner, I stopped her and insisted that we couldn't cook anything and had to get out of the house because I could smell gas." "Now, I had no idea what a gas leak smelled like at that age, but I very clearly remember smelling the air and this voice telling me it smelled like gas, and that I wasn't safe staying in the house, and we needed to leave. Neither my friend nor the nanny could smell what I was referring to, but I was insistent that the nanny call our parents. This was back before cell phones, so it was a big deal to try to reach someone at the emergency numbers that our parents had left. I became so emotionally distraught that the nanny called and eventually reached one of our fathers, who said they would come check it out and that we should sit on the porch and wait there until they arrived, as it's better to be safe than sorry. When our fathers arrived, they went into the house, and couldn't smell anything either. Given how distressed and insistent I was, they decided that, out of an abundance of caution, my father would take my friend, the nanny, and me to my house, and her dad would call the gas company to have them check for a leak. When the guy from the gas company arrived, he didn't smell anything, but when he took out his device to detect a leak, it showed that the levels were dangerously high. Apparently, he told my friend's dad that had there been a spark or had someone lit the stove or even plugged something into an electrical outlet, there likely would have been a large explosion. To this day, I have no idea how I knew what gas smelled like or how I would have smelled it, as I have a horrible sense of smell." —Anonymous 9."In 1976, when I was 23, I woke one morning with a strong feeling to stay home and not go anywhere that day. It was my day off from work, so I decided to stay in, but my boyfriend called me that evening and wanted me to come over. I felt uneasy about agreeing, but I wanted to see him, so I did. About 11 p.m., I decided to go home from his place. I suddenly heard the whispers of a crowd of people telling me not to leave, but I ignored them. As I got into my car, I heard a loud shout. 'Put on your seat belt!' it said." "In those days, cars had only hip belts, no shoulder straps. I pulled my belt over my hips and drove away. Two blocks later, I was hit by a drunk driver who knocked my car sideways head-on into a big tree. I was OK, but if I had not listened, I would have hit the windshield with my head or gone straight through it into that tree and probably died or had serious brain injuries." —Anonymous 10."My dad was in the hospital, and we were talking on the phone. A few minutes into the conversation, my dad said his nurse wanted to talk to me. A man got on the phone, said his name was David, and said my dad wasn't in very good shape. I asked what was wrong. He said my dad wasn't getting his meals or meds regularly at home. I was shocked and devastated. My dad remarried some years before, after having lived with the woman for over a decade. I had met her and her daughter numerous times over the years and thought they were decent folks. But, something was horribly wrong." "The nurse asked me if I had power of attorney (P.O.A.) and other important documents for my dad, and I told him no. He said I needed to 'get to the hospital today' and get the paperwork done. My anxiety immediately went off the charts, knowing it was a long drive to get to my dad, and knowing I had to get on the road immediately. I told the nurse how far away I lived, and he emphasized that I needed to get there as soon as possible. My husband and I agreed that I would get on the road that day, drive as far as I safely could, then get a hotel room and continue on the next day. It was close to 10 p.m. when I left home. I managed to drive four hours before I called it a night, and arrived at the hospital around 10 a.m. the next morning. My father's wife (who had not called to tell me my dad was in the hospital) was startled when I walked in. She began rambling about why she hadn't called me. I brushed her excuses off nicely and engaged her and my dad in pleasant conversation while trying to get more details. After his wife left, my dad and I discussed the situation. He said he was being pretty much starved and deprived of his meds daily, and there was criminal activity going on in the house since his stepdaughter had moved in with him and his wife the year before. We discussed an action plan, and he agreed that he wanted and needed specific documents in place naming me as his P.O.A., executor of his will, and more. After talking to my dad's doctors, I wanted to thank the nurse who had alerted me to the seriousness of the situation. The doctors didn't know who he was, so I asked the other nurses on duty. None of them knew who I was talking about. They said there were no male nurses on duty the previous day or even the day before that, and they also said that they had no male nurses named David on their current roster.I thought it was strange that no one knew Nurse David, but the thought moved to the back of my mind because the focus was on getting the paperwork completed before my dad's wife and her family returned. A family friend worked for an attorney about 10 miles from the hospital. She printed and delivered the documents before dinner, and thankfully, we were able to get everything signed and notarized before the others next day, I went back to the hospital to visit my dad again. Once more, I tried to get details about nurse David, and again, no one knew who he was." —Anonymous Related: 11."When my oldest son was 4, I took him to a local rural creek to walk around. It was a secluded location with no one else around. While crossing the creek, I slipped and sprained my ankle so badly that my ankle bone rolled over and touched the ground. Knowing that I was in trouble, I immediately grabbed my son and got him to the car and home. My ankle was so badly torn that I couldn't put weight on it for another two weeks. When we were talking about it later, my son casually mentioned that it was good that those two men were there to help me get to the car." —Jerry, Binghamton, NY 12."I developed PTSD before I learned to tie my shoes, and as a result, I had a lot of 'behavioral problems' as a child. This resulted in me spending much of my elementary education in isolated suspension. Essentially, I was put in a very small room in the administrative office, which had a big glass window. There were two desks in there, and I became close friends with a boy from another class in my fourth and fifth grade years, because he was usually in ISS with me. Well, turns out he never existed." "More than 20 years later, I still remember him better than most of my classmates. I can remember him comforting me as I cried, as I told him about my home life and secrets that I still haven't told anyone else. I went to a different school for sixth grade, but came back to high school in the same town. When I asked about him, no one knew a thing about who he was. This was a school where graduating classes were rarely ever over 100. He wasn't in any yearbooks, even in the 'absent for photographs' section." —t492e49f12 13."The very first time I remember this happening, I was around 8. My daily chores included taking out the trash, and my parents had to frequently remind me to do it. One particular time, I neglected my chores, it was raining all day, and I was being lazy. My mom yelled up the stairs for me to take the garbage out. I, of course, had to chime back and tell her it was raining and I'd do it later. Since it was a rainy day, my mom used the opportunity to clean the house. This meant the trash filled up faster than normal, and she needed it done. She started using her mom-voice, and for some reason, I kept resisting. I had a gut feeling. Eventually, I begrudgingly obliged." "After slipping my shoes on, I looked out the window and saw that the rain had picked up. It was looking nasty outside, and I really didn't want to make the thirty-foot walk to the garage where the dumpster was. I again asked mom if I could just please do it later. Since I was already on thin ice with my parents for slacking at chores, she yelled, 'Do it now!' So, I ventured out into the storm with one bag of trash and a bucket of recyclables. Halfway to the dumpster, I got the textbook 'hair standing up' feeling one gets before lightning strikes. But being a young kid, I had no idea how lightning or electricity worked. All of a sudden, everything around me illuminated and got kind of metallic — all except this one normal-colored spot on the asphalt about five feet in front of me. For whatever reason, I tossed the trash and recyclables and dove into the spot on the asphalt. As I hit the ground, I heard the loudest noise I've ever heard. I narrowly missed being struck by lightning. Mom came running out of the house, thinking I was toast. When she saw that I was okay, she apologized over and over (and still does to this day) that she made me take the trash out during a storm. I like to think this event 'sparked' my clairvoyant tendencies, like some kind of comic book plot, but I'm really not into supernatural stuff. I call this my 'clairvoyant urge'. This 'urge' has saved me a few times." —Jupe, Hudson, WI 14."My sister and I were teenagers, driving around town and drinking. We drank way too much that night we shouldn't have been out driving. Her car was pretty much a piece of junk that would quit running at random moments. Well, that random moment struck as we were close to railroad tracks. The engine stopped and we rolled onto the tracks as a train was approaching." "We were too drunk to realize we needed to jump out of the car and sat motionless on the tracks, staring in horror at the approaching train. Suddenly, the car started rolling, like someone was pushing it over the tracks. We escaped death by seconds. When the train had gone by, we looked to see who had saved us, but no one was there. That was the last time we were drunk enough not to be able to save ourselves. If it hadn't been for the mysterious push from behind, we would have missed most of our lives and never would have had our children and grandchildren." —Anonymous 15."At one point, I worked 10 days straight with no days off, so when I finally got one, all I wanted to do that particular evening was watch a good movie with a glass of wine and relax. Around 9:30 p.m., I started hearing this voice telling me, 'You must get out of this house.' I couldn't understand why I was thinking this thought, so I tried really hard to stop thinking it. After some time, I realized it was not my thought. I had no control to stop it and over time it was getting louder and more persistent." "There were two girls who lived next door to me that I didn't know well, but I found myself going over to their place. I told them I didn't understand why, but I couldn't stay in my house, so I asked if I could sleep in their spare bedroom. This was about 11 p.m. Twenty minutes later, one of the girls' boyfriends arrived and said when he pulled up, he saw a man going around the back of my house. He followed the guy and found my back door busted in. A man with a crowbar appeared, shoved the boyfriend off the steps, and fled. Then, he said he recognized the man with the crowbar — it was my (now-ex) husband. I later learned that he had come there that night to kill me. I believe what I experienced that night was intuition. Fast forward 10 years, and my ex-husband was convicted of murdering his second wife and her 14-year-old daughter. The lingering question I have had since is, 'Why wasn't she warned like I was?'" —Cheryl, Shasta Lake, USA 16."The first time I experienced this phenomenon was in 1981. I was mowing my lawn, and my dad dropped by. It was very hot and I had been mowing for a while. My young son was playing in the yard, also. My dad walked up and offered to take over the mowing, and I was going to let him, but I heard a very loud voice say, 'Don't let him do it.' So, I told him no, I would finish it myself. The next night, he had a fatal heart attack. I believe that if I had let him mow, he would have died right there in my yard, in front of my son." —Anonymous Related: 17."A few years ago, I got my daughter a cat for her birthday. About two months later, we were painting together and used an old sports water bottle to rinse our brushes. We were having fun, and I didn't realize how late it had gotten, so I put my daughter in the bath and to bed without cleaning up. After she fell asleep, I went back downstairs and laid on the couch, thinking I would clean up after an episode of The Boys. About two hours later, I was woken up from a dead sleep with a voice telling me to check upstairs. I looked at the baby monitor, and my daughter was asleep and breathing, so I tried to ignore it out of sleepiness. The voice repeated itself, getting more and more urgent. It sounded so urgent that I got up and went upstairs immediately." "When I got to the landing, I saw the cat, who usually slept on my daughter's bed, lying on her side with her head stuck in the sports water bottle. It was completely fogged up, and she was barely breathing. It took me a few seconds to pry it off and start giving her CPR. Fortunately, she was alright. That voice saved my cat's life!" —patriciajoseph1 18."One Christmas break from college, my parents decided we were going to drive from Montana to California to see my sister. On the first day, we were driving an isolated road with no traffic. The roads were very icy. I was lying in the backseat when the car started spinning and landed in a ditch beside the road. My parents and I piled out and had to walk up a steep bank to where we'd been driving. We looked down at our car and couldn't figure out what to do. There were no other cars on the road, and this was before cell phones in the early 1980s." "We stood there for quite a while, getting cold. All of a sudden, a little baby blue Chevy Luv pickup drove up to us and stopped. There was only a front seat, but out of the little truck came four huge football-player-like men. Each of them must have been well over six feet tall, and they were at least 250 pounds each, with bright blonde hair. Without saying a word, the four men climbed down to our car, picked it up, carried it up the steep bank, and dropped the car onto the road. My parents and I said thank you, but the men ignored us and silently piled back in their little truck and drove off. We just stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Years later, my mom told me that she thought the men were angels." —Anonymous 19."When I was about 8 years old (this would have been 1948–49), I took a city bus to school every day. I crossed a busy street, walked across railroad tracks, and walked a couple of blocks to school. On this occasion, I got off the bus and, like most kids, didn't look both ways. I took two steps into the street, and out of nowhere, felt someone grab me by the shoulders. Suddenly, I was back on the sidewalk. Just as this happened, a car flew by going very fast." "I looked up and there was a very tall Black man of, I would guess, about 30 years old. Now, this was back in the bad old days. I had never interacted with a Black man; it would have been forbidden. But, I remembered my manners and said, 'Thank you, sir!' Just then, another bus pulled up. I turned to look at it. When I immediately turned back to continue thanking the man, he was gone! Neither the bus driver nor anyone who got off the bus saw him. But I will remember him until the day I die." —Anonymous 20."When I was 10, my aunt (who was my guardian because my mom at the time had a serious illness) passed away. I moved with my parents to a remote farmhouse. Fast forward two years, and at age 12, I was awake late one hot summer night when an orb of light appeared above my bed. It was so bright I thought it would blind me. I heard a voice call me by a pet name that only my aunt used. I couldn't move, I was so terrified. She said, 'Tomorrow, a blue van will drive into the driveway and men will knock down the door. It will be OK if you do exactly as I say.' "Something like a movie, or a quick succession of images and commands, flashed in front of me. 'Call your grandfather, get a weapon, go to the bathroom, and lock the door. Don't pull the trigger unless they touch the bathroom doorknob. Do not reveal your location until you hear your grandfather's voice.' Just like that, she was gone. I tried to rationalize it. I thought maybe I'd hallucinated. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. The kitchen sink faced a window. In the reflection of the window, my aunt appeared again and said forcefully, 'You are not hallucinating. Do as I say and all will be well.' I dropped the glass and it next day, I was alone. I convinced myself I'd imagined the blue van pulled into the driveway and four men got out. I immediately did as my aunt had said. I heard them kick down the back door and enter every room but one. They never touched the bathroom door, and I never had to pull the trigger. Several minutes later, I heard them leave. Then I heard my grandfather's voice several minutes after that. I ran to him. And all was well despite being terrifying. I've been rescued more than once from those beyond. After that, I've never questioned the instructions. I'm just incredibly grateful." —Angie, Nashville, TN 21."I was driving home from work, tired after a long day of construction. I also had just stopped drinking a few weeks previously, and my temper was worse than before. I was driving in the slower lane on a four-lane divided highway (there was a wide, grassy median between the directions). Suddenly, two cars slightly ahead of me in the faster lane came over into my lane, cutting me off, and I had to brake quickly. My temper flared, and I was about to pass both of them, just because I was surprised and mad. A voice popped into my head and said nearly audibly, 'You don't have to do that.'" "Surprised again, I hesitated just as a car flashed by all of us, going the wrong way in the fast lane. There were no cell phones then, so I called the police as soon as I walked into my apartment. A trooper told me that they'd already apprehended the guy, who was very far gone on drugs. Unfortunately, he had struck an older lady head-on farther up the highway, and she'd been killed. I didn't drink that night, but I still remember that voice. I'm not religious, but that time and several others have led me to accept the idea of a 'power' aside from myself." —Cam, NJ seashore, USA 22."My son was 5 years old and seemingly healthy. We went to the beach, the zoo, Disney, and road tripped. He was fine. He started kindergarten. When we were home, he was in the playroom with his little brother, having at it, as usual. I was watching them play while cleaning up, and suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard a man's voice. Clear as day, I heard him say, 'That child is not long for the world.' I knew he was talking about Zac." "I'm an oncology nurse, so I assessed him and found a swollen lymph node in his neck. I freaked out. I knew there was something very wrong. The pediatrician was not concerned (I didn't tell him I heard a voice) and said we'd follow up with an ENT if it was still there in a few weeks. I couldn't let it go. I heard and believed that voice. I went through the phone book (it was 2003), got to 'B', and found an ENT willing to follow up. Surgery was pursued, and we were told it was fine. I believed I overreacted because of my profession. About a week later, the ENT called and said the first look at the biopsy was incorrect — my son had cancer. The kind that can double in size every day. MY SON HAD CANCER.I thank God I heard that voice and decided to listen to it." —Anonymous 23."I was traveling home to bury my mother. I had to go by myself, because my husband had to work and we lived 3,000 miles away from my family. I suffer from bipolar depression and anxiety. The TSA security area was a zoo: people packed like sardines, the trays banging, and the TSA agents barking orders. I was a mess. When I finally made it through the line, I was quietly crying and shaking like a leaf. I sat down on the first empty bench I could find and quietly wept, defeated and broken-hearted, when a little old lady who was not there a second ago put her hand on mine. She didn't say anything, just smiled gently and handed me a tissue." "She smelled like cookies and exuded calm and kindness. Once I stopped crying, she said, 'You aren't alone.' As I reached for my shoe, I turned my head to thank her, and she was gone. There was no way she could have left without my seeing her." —Anonymous 24."In 1989, I was visiting my best friend since childhood. We were out shopping at a mall where her son, my godson, worked at a restaurant as a waiter. He took his break and came over to the booth where we were sitting and pulled up a chair. We were all talking and laughing when all of a sudden I felt like I had been pulled out of my body and then heard the words, 'He's not long for here.' Hearing that, in my mind I heard myself say, 'Life is but a grain of sand,' I guess to say that the warning could mean 30 years from now, or anytime. But then again, I heard the words, 'He's not long for here.' "With that said, I felt myself being pulled back into my body with force. I felt very lightheaded. I looked over at my friend and godson, who had not even noticed what had happened. I was left with the feeling that the message was meant for just me, or it was meant to prepare me. Later on the drive back home, I tried to tell my friend what I had heard, but the words just wouldn't come out of my mouth. Twenty-four hours later, my godson would be dead, killed in a freak car accident by a 16-year-old driver in his first truck. On that day, my mother, sister, and I had been visiting family in East Tennessee and had not gotten the call. That night, my mother and I were watching the news when we saw the wreck featured on the news. The car had been so mangled that you really couldn't tell what kind of car it was, and the reporter didn't give my godson's name, but I knew it was him. The reporter did say that the victim had been airlifted to a local hospital and named it. I turned to my mother and told her I had to get to the hospital, because I knew it was Matt. She looked at me, puzzled, and asked how I knew. All I could say is that it was Matt. I wasn't in shock. I wasn't hysterical. In fact, I was calm. That voice had prepared me so I could be strong for my friend. I could help her through the next several days. Mentally, she just wasn't capable of doing what needed to be done, but I could. To this day, I can still hear that voice. And to this day, I still don't understand why I couldn't warn her." —MJA, Colorado, USA 25."It was the summer of 1986 and I was about 5 when this happened. My father was a marine and the marines brought their families together for a day of hot dogs, baseball, and fun. The park we were at had a paved walking trail that was basically just a really big circle around the park. Little 5-year-old me had my hot dog and went for a walk on the trail. At the furthest(ish) point on the trail from where everyone else was, I began to choke. I took a bite of hot dog that was too big and was having difficulty chewing it, which led to me accidentally swallowing before it was ready to be swallowed. I knew I was done for. I stood there, looking at the ground, hot dog in my left hand, and right hand where I felt the stuck dog right below my voice box. I was trying my hardest to push or vomit it out. I began to think, 'I'm gonna die.' That very second, I felt the urge to look up. To my left not three feet away was a tiny little old lady." "She was the straight-up stereotypical image of a sweet little old lady sitting on a bench, smiling at me. I quickly motioned to her that I was choking and needed help. In her soft, sweet, smiling old lady voice, she said, 'Oh I know, I know. You need to just relax, everything is going to be fine.' Seeing her happy calmness made her instruction to just relax seem like a good idea, so I did. The moment I began to relax was the moment I felt the hot dog moving back up my throat and back into my mouth, then onto the ground at my feet. I was in shock seeing a literal half of a hot dog on the ground and couldn't believe I took that big of a bite. I'm not sure how long I was staring at that hot dog, but it couldn't have been more than a second or two. When I looked up again, there was no bench and there was no old lady. I just lost it crying, standing there until one of the other marines noticed me and came to check on me. When he asked what was wrong, I blubberingly mumbled out through tears what happened. He stood up quick as spit sizzles, looking around for the old lady, then walked me back to the rest of the families." —Anonymous Related: 26."I was in Vietnam, '68–'69, in armor, tanks. My crew and I were out in the field guarding a highway on a cleared dirt section on the side of a hill. The army was great about making sure we got at least one hot meal a day. This one morning, believe it or not, we were all chipper, had just had a hot breakfast, and were standing behind our 'track' (slang for tank). There was a slight breeze blowing. I heard something new, I heard it again, and then I asked my crew, three of them, 'Did you hear something?' They all said no. I heard it again and told the guys, 'Let's move over there,' motioning about fifty feet away. Well, we moved, stopped, turned around, and WHAM! An enemy rocket, 122mm, hit right where we'd been standing!" "Years later, my Grandmother and I were talking about 'Nam. I mentioned the incident, and Grandma, like shock, remembered! She asked when that had happened, and I remembered the exact date, because it was my birthday. She said, 'I was trying to call you then, in early evening,' which would've made it morning in Vietnam, right about when I heard that strange sound. I'll never forget that!" —Clifford D. H., Tulsa, OK 27."Several years ago, my husband and I were in a Lowe's store. My husband had a history of heart issues and had a pacemaker as well as a defibrillator. He was 6'3" and weighed over 200 pounds at the time. Suddenly, he told me that he was feeling unwell and knew he was going down. I looked ahead and saw a lawn swing on display. I told him to try to get to the swing. He didn't make it and started to fall. The store had a concrete floor, and I knew I had to keep his head from hitting it. I was trying to hold onto his upper body and ease him down, but I was struggling, and there was no one around us. Suddenly, a pair of tan leather shoes — obviously expensive, handmade, and I assumed Italian — appeared, and two slender, tanned arms slid under my husband's shoulders, just inches from the floor, and very gently laid him down." "I didn't look up. I was so worried about my husband because his defibrillator hadn't gone off. I remember saying thank you, but the man never said a word back. When I did look up, there was no one there. A woman who had been coming into the store up front had seen me struggling with my husband and immediately pulled out her phone to call 911. Paramedics arrived almost immediately and store personnel came. The first question they asked was if his head hit the floor. I told them no, that a man had saved him at the last minute. They asked if I knew who it was. I told them I just saw his legs walking away toward the back of the store and that he never said a word. The manager came back to me a bit later and said they had asked every customer, but no one had claimed to have helped him up or matched the description. The woman who saw what was happening from the door and called 911, and did not see anyone but me with my husband, too. Do I believe God sent an angel? You bet I do. My husband recovered and lived several more years. He passed away in 2006, 18 years ago. I miss him every day and still cry as I write of this experience, but I know he's pain-free and happy now." —Mary, Littleton, Colorado 28."My husband and I went out to lunch one afternoon. The restaurant had TVs hanging from the ceiling, and one of them was in the corner next to our table. As soon as we sat down, I kept hearing a voice telling me to go to the bathroom. At first, I ignored it. I didn't need to go, but it was so persistent that I decided just to go and wash my hands. I was in the bathroom for about 30 seconds when I heard a huge crash. When I went back out to the dining room, I realized that the TV above our table had fallen and landed on top of the chair I had just been sitting in. Thank God I listened to that voice!" —Christina, Savannah, GA 29."In 2014, my husband was suffering from ulcerative colitis. It was so bad that he was wasting away, delirious and needing regular blood transfusions. We opted for surgery and had the date set for mid-September. One day in late August, I was chatting with a friend when I suddenly 'knew' that he needed the surgery right away. I was so certain that I jumped off the phone and called his surgeon's office to find out how to get him in sooner. That night, I took him to the ER, and he had the surgery three days later. His colon was so disintegrated that they had to change the surgery they were going to perform. Six weeks and four surgeries later, he came home. That message was so powerful that I never questioned whether it was true or where it came from." —Anonymous 30."One day, I was on my way out the door to drive to work. I had a pair of open-toed, flat shoes on. I was home alone, but I heard a disembodied voice telling me to put on boots. So, I immediately turned around and put on a pair of boots. As I drove to work, traffic came to a stop, and the truck behind me did not slow down like the rest of us. It plowed into me, pushing my car into the van in front of me. The front end of my car was crushed, all the airbags deployed, and the dashboard dropped onto my foot, cutting right into the top of my boot. If I had not changed my shoes that day, I would have suffered a deep gash on top of my foot. The car was totaled, but thankfully I was OK, just shaken up. This happened at least 10 years ago, and I still have those boots in my closet." —Anonymous I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER, from left: Tariq Withers, Sarah Pidgeon, Chase Sui Wonders, Madelyn Cline, 2025. ph: Brook Rushton /© Columbia Pictures /Courtesy Everett Collection finally, "When I was young, around 9 years old, I had to have pretty major surgeries for a birth defect. I was feeling sick, in pain, and frustrated about not being able to sleep or get out of bed. When I rang the bell for the night nurses to help me to the toilet, a smiling man dressed all in white would come straight away and help me. He was so happy and peaceful, with the biggest smile and a bright aura to him. He always came straight to me as soon as the bell rang. The next day (after the second night of his help), I asked another nurse if he would be on duty that night. The staff were very confused, even after my description of him. She told me there weren't any male staffers on duty those past two nights and that none of the porters or other staff wore all white or would have been answering bells on the ward." —Anonymous Thank you to everyone kind enough to share their stories! Have you ever had a "third man syndrome" experience like these? If so, I'd love if you'd tell us your story in the comments below or via this completely anonymous form. Note: Submissions are edited for length and/or clarity. If you enjoyed these stories, you can read a bunch more of them here. Also in BuzzFeed: Also in BuzzFeed: Also in BuzzFeed: Solve the daily Crossword
New York Times
2 days ago
- New York Times
Oh Hello, Corn Risotto
Good morning! Today we have for you: A corn risotto for corn lovers (me) A bright and tangy Venezuelan sauce to pair with pretty much any grilled protein Plus, tequila sunrises for summer sunsets It is only here, in this newsletter that goes out to like-minded food and cooking enthusiasts, that I feel comfortable listing the following examples of how much I love corn: Saving any and all stripped cobs in order to nibble on the remaining corn nubs and corn milk before making corn stock Holding a 'how many corns can you eat' contest with myself at every cookout Singing the Irving Berlin classic 'Snow,' but with 'corn' subbed in for every mention of 'snow' So yes: I love corn, and we all know how I feel about rice, so this corn risotto recipe from Jessica Battilana, adapted by Emily Weinstein, calls to me each summer. If you don't want to make the corn stock, which resourcefully uses the spent cobs as well as the dark-green leek tops, crack open your favorite chicken stock. Folding in a little bit of whipped cream at the end adds a luxurious lightness, but the dish is just as rich and delicious without it. And I have to call out the readers who noted, in the comments, their lily-gilding additions of lump crab meat or, served alongside, lobster. Gorgeous. Can I have dinner at your place? I could sing a really cool corn song for my supper. … Featured Recipe View Recipe → Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Yahoo
Your Relationship Problems Aren't Always About the Patriarchy
This week, The New York Times sparked online fervor when writer Catherine Pearson penned an article discussing "mankeeping," the hot new internet term describing women's exhaustion and annoyance at having to perform various acts of "emotional labor" for their male partners. "Mankeeping," Pearson writes, "describes the work women do to meet the social and emotional needs of the men in their lives, from supporting their partners through daily challenges and inner turmoil, to encouraging them to meet up with their friends." For the story, Pearson interviewed 37-year-old Eve Tilley-Colson, who while seemingly happy with her boyfriend, "finds herself offering him a fair amount of social and emotional scaffolding," according to Pearson. Tilley-Colson said she tends to make the social plans, and she and her boyfriend hang out primarily with her friends. "I feel responsible for bringing the light to the relationship," she told Pearson. The article quickly attracted online controversy, with X users in particular pointing out that mankeeping seemed to describe, well, the typical emotional support most people are expected to provide in a loving relationship. "Why does it seem like so many people just don't enjoy being with their partners??? My bf can spend all his time with me I love him," wrote one user. "'Emotional labor' has become code for 'people should never present an inconvenience to me' This is why so some people's friendships consist of very little more than going to brunch," added commentator Allie Voss. "If you want surface level 'emotional labor' you're going to get surface level love." I'm inclined to agree with this criticism. Healthy relationships usually require that we provide emotional support to our partners—the support "through daily challenges and inner turmoil," derided as "mankeeping" in the article. Pathologizing this support is to misunderstand what close human relationships are even about. Loving someone else and receiving their affection and comfort requires give and take. It won't always be perfectly equal, nor will it be entirely pleasant. When the proposal for my upcoming book was on submission, I certainly was not particularly pleasant to emotionally support. I spent the month of May cycling between various forms of dread, panic, and hysterical despair. I remember the month primarily from the vantage point of my couch, which I frequently flung myself onto during fits of anguish. (The book, by the way, sold to a great publisher, and my fears that it wouldn't sell went unrealized.) Through it all, my husband was extremely patient and very sweet. If he was annoyed by my antics, he certainly didn't show it. Was he "womankeeping" that month? Was I forcing him into some kind of burdensome "emotional labor"? If he thought so, I somehow doubt that a legacy media organization would publish an essay about how men everywhere are being worn down by their neurotic wives and girlfriends. While this construction rightly strikes most as a bizarre overgeneralization, contemporary cultural criticism is full of essays premised on wild generalizations from individual relationship dynamics, usually stemming from the idea that anytime a woman is dissatisfied in her heterosexual relationship, not only are her complaints justified, but the patriarchy probably has something to do with it. Just in the past two months alone, The New York Times has published essays from women bemoaning that men are retreating from emotional intimacy and that men themselves are "what is rotten in the state of straightness." I don't think these women are exaggerating their romantic woes; rather, I'm just not convinced that their problems represent broader cultural trends, especially trends that boil down to sexism in some way. Even the popularity of the term emotional labor itself is part of this tendency. The original meaning of the term was literal, coined in the 1980s to describe how service-sector jobs often require employees to perform certain emotions for customers, such as the way waitresses are required to act friendly in order to get good tips. Now, the term applies to just about every act of service you could imagine. Compromise? Emotional labor. Playing with your kids? Emotional labor. Warning your husband that he's about to accidentally break a lawn mower? Somehow, also emotional labor. To be sure, there are plenty of persistent problems faced by heterosexual couples that probably come down to gender or sexism. But surely that doesn't mean you should blame every unhappy relationship on men or heterosexuality in general. Still, doing so remains a bankable tactic. The past few years, for example, have seen a glut of "divorce memoirs" that paint one woman's unhappy marriage as representative of all heterosexual marriages. Lyz Lenz, for example, writes in her 2024 memoir This American Ex-Wife that her book "[is] about how specifically breaking the bonds of marriage, the system that was designed to oppress you, will open up your life to create something new and something better." The unnamed protagonist of Sarah Manguso's 2024 autofiction novel Liars paints marriage with an even broader brush. "Maybe the trouble was simply that men hate women," she muses. "A husband might be nothing but a bottomless pit of entitlement. You can throw all your love and energy and attention down into it, and the hole will never fill." These books describe genuinely miserable marriages, but none seem to consider whether their marriages could have been bad without representing the state of heterosexual marriage itself. The individual woman's experience is uncritically presented as universal, provided that it is a negative one. "I feel like there's a certain script you have to abide by if you're a woman writer, writing about motherhood, dating or marriage, in certain literary circles," Substacker CartoonsHateHer wrote in a post about the mankeeping dust-up. "You basically have to embody the spirit of someone who is vaguely put-upon, not only by men but by life, and it's society's problem." My plea to the divorce memoirists—and now, for those complaining of "mankeeping"—is that an unhappy relationship is not always a symptom of female oppression. Especially when it comes to the minor annoyances described in the latest trend articles, the simplest answer might just be that you don't like your boyfriend that much. Your relationship problems might just be downstream of the fact that you're dating a loser, not the male loneliness epidemic or male entitlement. Sometimes a relationship is just unhappy. Unfortunately, those stories are much less likely to go viral. The post Your Relationship Problems Aren't Always About the Patriarchy appeared first on Solve the daily Crossword
