Kids and parents compete to keep eggs alive in gravity-defying school tradition

The firefighter held up the makeshift spaceship, made of a plastic fruit container and cardboard wings that gently cradled an egg inside, 45 feet up in the air. In a moment, it would be dropped, and all of Westview Elementary would either see the yolk splatter or cheer in triumph for the unscathed eggs.
This odd ritual was all part of a tradition spanning more than 10 years at Westview known as the egg drop.
Tiffiny Santos, a third-grade teacher who leads the project, said Wednesday’s event was a fun way to encourage creativity in kids and bring the community together.
“I’ve heard for a week now about, you know, people throwing things off their roofs or out of their bedroom windows seeing if they survive,” Santos said.
“That trial and error, making a design, seeing if it works and adjusting, that’s total STEM.”
Hollyn Sherwood, the third-grade creator of the spaceship precariously lifted 45 feet in the air, said she was anxious watching it moments before takeoff.
“I literally said I was going to pee my pants. I was so nervous,” Hollyn said.
The crowd went quiet as the fireman dropped Hollyn’s creation. The cardboard wings successfully created enough drag to slow down the plastic fruit container as it made its descent, but whether the straw harness cradling the egg would absorb enough of the impact remained to be seen.
The ship hit the ground with a slight bounce, and Hollyn ran to check on it with a nervous gait. Picking it up and peering into the side, she couldn’t help but smile as she saw the egg sitting safely without a crack.
Seeing Hollyn’s excitement, the crowd erupted. She then rushed to the judge’s table where two fifth-graders asked one simple question: “Did the egg survive?”
Hollyn was excited to answer “Yes” and joined the rest of her class, but she got nervous thinking about the second test for her egg: the 100-foot drop.
Other kids’ eggs, however, would not live to see the taller drop. Eddie Trepus, another student in Santos’ class, let out an embarrassed laugh as egg yolk shot out of his pool noodle creation, but he didn’t seem surprised.
“The day before the egg drop, I was about to go to soccer and we were kind of in a hurry, so my mom just bought a pool noodle and cut it,” Eddie said. “So it just hit the ground and exploded.”
Kids from kindergarten through fifth grade could choose to participate, with winners receiving certificates of proof. Santos said rules change almost every year. Parachutes were banned this year, and eggs had to be visible and able to be poked with a pencil.
But some kids followed the rules loosely, using things like trash bags to create a parachute effect. Santos said that for these kids, they’d be given a participation award instead of a certificate if their egg survived.
Santos said the event was fun for the students, but some had a hard time watching their eggs break.
“We get tears. Oh, there’s tears, especially, like, the kindergarten and first-graders,” Santos said.
While Holly, Eddie and other kids were excited, parents leaned forward in their lawn chairs with a sense of anticipation.
“You know who gets competitive? Those parents over there,” Santos said. “We want the families to be involved in this. We want this to be a thing that they do with their child.”
Logan and Krissy Scheres said they watched YouTube videos to come up with the best design for his son Owen. He decided on a pyramid-shaped design of straws taped together that slowed the egg’s fall.
“You want your kid to have the one that makes it through the drop,” Krissy Scheres said. “Walking up, a lot of other kids were, ‘Wow that’s cool.’ It amped him up.”
Santos said the Spokane Fire Department has been involved with the tradition for around 10 years since fire captain Mike Johnson’s son Egan was in Santos’ third-grade class.
“The guys love it,” Mike Johnson said. “It’s fun to be in the community, being a positive influence for the kids, letting them see that we do more than just put out fires and get cats out of trees.”
But with the event wrapping up, Johnson and the other firefighters would have to lift the fire truck ladder to 100 feet and drop the winners’ eggs from Santos’ third-grade class – including Sherwood’s.
Hollyn watched nervously as the ladder slowly raised over twice its previous height. Then her ship was lifted again and finally dropped. The beginning looked promising, with the cardboard wings again slowing the descent, but with the longer drop the velocity began to pick up.
The sound of the plastic as it hit the tarp was concerning, but no yolk splattered, giving the crowd hope.
Hollyn picked it up and peered into the side again; it was clear the egg had not survived.
“I’m very disappointed,” Hollyn said. “But I’m proud that I tried.”