What's the scariest experience you have been through?

Theres been a few but the first one that springs to mind was driving from Dublin Airport to Longford during that 'beast from the east' blizzard/lockdown/curfew a few years back with my wife . . . Slowest, longest, white knuckle ride of my life.

I like the sound of your wife.

Sorry, but is your petite partner the younger one or is one of them, you know, bigger?

Losing the little one in Penney’s. Most parents will know the story. There is a time when they are 2 to 3 years old when they will just suddenly bolt and disappear on you at every smallest opportunity they get and then you are suddenly left sweating bullets and searching the premises in absolute head throbbing panic. The feeling is indescribably horrible, I really did feel like time stood still and like my conscious self was outside my body somehow. Ugh, even the memory is making me quesy now. Luckily she was to be found entertaining the shop assistants within some 10 minutes, if that, but it was the longest and most painful 10 minutes of my life.

Oh and I also lost her in an airport, in an open space she was suddenly gone into thin air. Then I spot the only thing there, the back of an escalator, and sure enough, by the time I got to the front of it, she was already on her way up, lying on the stairs upside down!

She’s 15 now. No more babies for me! :D

Spent the night in a mobile home literally 30 metres from the Atlantic coast during Storm Ellen last year. The walls were bending and flexing for 8 hours from the 100km/h-plus winds, and the noise was horrendous and relentless. I didn't sleep a wink - spent the night looking at the Windy app, watching the swirling arrows, willing willing the storm to move on. Had the car keys clutched in my hand in case the whole thing came crashing down around me so I wouldn't have to find them in the rubble. Mobile home survived fully intact, so I really wasn't in any danger, but it didn't feel that way at all.

Another time I was on a RIB (boat) in Doolin, as a trainee diver, going out for a scuba dive with some very experienced folk. Wind picked up something terrible just as we left the pier. Suddenly there was a massive swell, and we had to turn back. As we turned, a 3 metre wave came in and was about to hit us side-on, when the coxin just hammered the throttle and jumped the wave. I was sitting on the pontoon and obviously wan't holding on properly, because suddenly I was up in the air looking down on the rest of the crew, who were down below looking up at me. Luckily I crashed down into the boat, between the pontoon and the rack for the dive bottles. I was a couple of inches from ending up in the water and having the helicopter out to rescue me. We managed to make it back into the pier by timing it just right in between the waves.

They were the only two times I was actually really scared for my safety. Next one is more on the emotional fear side.

A few years ago, my at the time healthy and very independent Dad checked himself into Beaumont Hospital. Said he wasn't feeling well during hot spell of weather, and got a taxi up to A+E. Turns out he had a heart attack. He called me the next day and I immediately travelled across the country to see him. Next morning I went up to the hospital in the morning to see him again. He was dressed, but asleep on his bed. It was a very warm summers day, and all the men in his room were napping, so I decided to head up to the supermarket up the road to get him some stuff and leave him to rest. When I got back 45 minutes later, he wasn't on the bed. His jacket and bag were there. Waited a few minutes, no sign of him. Asked the nurses - they didn't know where he was. Called his mobile, no answer. Texts, no answer. More calls, no answer. Nurses got concerned. I, they and security searched the hospital and the grounds.

I remember sitting outside the main entrance, alone and in panic, and everywhere I looked I saw tall, grey haired men with glasses and blue shirts and beige slacks exactly like him. But none of them were him. I won't go into the whole story of what happened then, but suffices to say that he had basically lost his mind to vascular dementia, and wandered off into Dublin city centre. When we got him back later in the day, he was never the same again. He spent the next 6 months in the hospital, then just over a year in a nursing home before dying from Covid last May. The whole 20 month experience of his illness, decline and death was awful, but that few hours of him being missing was terrifying.

Family day out at the beach, about 4 families together, so say 12 kids. all under 10. I'm in the shallow water with about six of the bigger ones. Among about ten million other kids. Suddenly I spot that one of my kids is missing. Send his older brother back to the group to get other parents over, while I shepherd the remaining kiddies out of the water. "Stand THERE! DON'T MOVE. STAY TOGETHER" . Now I watching some of the other adults running my way, so that's grand , they can look after the little group I just petrified into stasis. I run back to the water. Search, search, search. Nothing. So far, no bodies floating in the water. Strangers join the hunt. Nothing. Right, he's obviously (huh) not in the water. Right - the rest of the beach. I run the length of it, at least a kilometre looking into the water. Then back up along the dunes. No joy. Back to the group at the waters edge, where one of the mothers has the kids on their knees saying prayers. Now I'm not into criticising anyone asking the almighty for help, but that's AFTER we do our bit. At this point I look back to where our picnic blankets etc were, and I notice there's something odd. I take off like a rocket, and as I approach, I see the missing child sitting on his auntie's lap. Big smirk on his face.

The most frightening part of all this was that I was continually scanning the group in the water, and it only took about 30 seconds from seeing him to not seeing him. Probably, if I'd looked behind me I'd have seen him walking out of the water, but my first thought was that he was under the water in front of me amongst all the horseplay. When I was really certain that he wasn't in the water, my major concern was that he'd be wandering the beach in terror trying to find us. Or that he'd walk out onto a busy road or train tracks. At no point was I worried that he'd been kidnapped or whatever. You just never hear of it, except on telly somewhere else.

Someone once pointed a rifle at my face. We all knew assumed it wasn't loaded, but my insides turned to liquid. I was tempted to report him, have his licence revoked.

Ditto.. except not shrooms, heavy LSD back in the early 90's such a bad trip.. had been well used to acid at that stage, thing was.. when I woke up late the next afternoon, (after an all nighter) I woke up still tripping out of my head.. this time It wasn't just bad, it was plain dark and very sinister, large black shadows wouldn't leave me alone, had to ring mates to try an help me... but they were all still tripping to fck, we met up smoked h*sh and drank beer... it did nothing to take us down just bounced off us.. When I got home that night, my aul lad kicked me out bags packed walking in the rain at 2am... still out of my nut.. tree's stretching their branches out to hit me as I walked past. Was a pretty narly experience, I've had bad trips but nothing like this and it kept going.. Circa 1993

Myself and my brother and Aunt were in a pub on New Year's Eve one year and my Aunt decided to ring in the New Year in another village a few miles up the road. It was a cold night and the roads were icy. She was driving and was a bit of a speedster to say the least. Anyway on the way to the village we were going around a bend and the the car skidded and crashed through the wall of a bridge and was hanging off the side of a bridge facing a river just below. Passers by came to our aid and tilted and pushed the car back into safety onto the road. I thought we were fucked when the car crashed through the wall.

Here's another scary one...

On hols in Palma Nova with family, my kids were aged 6-10. We all went down poolside upon arrival. I took a walk around, just to see if there was anything the kids might like. On an upper level was a kiddies paddling pool. It wasn't dug out, but rather a large square concrete 'bath' filled with water. The water was about 2 feet deep and it was full of toddlers. Some parents sat on the side with their feet in the water, playing with their toddlers.

So, I happen to glance towards the centre and I see a child in one of those rubber rings. My immediate thought was " that's dangerous" and continued walking. I walked about five paces and looked back at the child, only to see a rubber ring with two legs sticking up in the air. Fully clothed I jumped over the little wall and splashed violently across to the baby and dragged her by one leg spluttering up out of the water. No one else had seen this until they saw the mad man running through the water. I started asking who were the parents, and the group of about 10 mammies said it was not their baby. So I carried the baby round the surrounding area and found the parents sitting at tables drinking, with their backs to the pool. I patiently explained what had transpired, to be met with howls of drunken derision. I told them this was why I NEVER left my small children unaccompanied in a rubber ring. All the while I'm still holding the baby. Eventually the mother comes out and takes the baby from me. Unbelievable. It was far scarier than it sounds.

Caught up in the Coup d'état in Cameroon as a child whilst my mother was in hospital. We were rescued and brought to the embassy by the balls-of-steel ambassador who drove around the capital city in the midst of the fighting to pick up all the uncontacted UK nationals. Don't remember much in detail though.

@ nicknickelby - did they at least say thanks or acknowledge you?