June 13th. One of my least favorite days of the year. On this day, two men that I was really close to lost their careers and almost their lives. Didn't seem fair in 1997 and it still doesn't today. Much has been said about how we celebrated the responsible way. Yeah, we drank. A lot. But we didn't drive. We took limos everywhere that week. Yet tragedy still struck Vladdy and Sergei and it struck our entire team. I still live near the crash site. Even though lightning would cruelly strike and destroy the tree less than a month after they hit it, I know exactly where it was, the exact median on Woodward, and the location, down to the foot. I drive past it almost daily and still it fixates my glare. Not far away, Beaumont Hospital, where Vladdy and Sergei would spend months, and I would stop by daily...hoping for a miracle that never came. Sure, elite medical care, rehabilitation and Vladdy's sheer will to live is why he is still with us 29 years later, but the miracle of he and Sergei Mnatsakanov having even a remotely normal life missed them. And for that, I will always be angry. I will always wish they never got in that limo or even came to the golf course that day. Neither one of them played even one hole, they weren't golfers... they came to be with their teammates. To celebrate one last time before we all went our separate ways. Unfair. Cruel. So I choose to celebrate those men. Sergei has passed but he will never be forgotten. Such an amazing family man, masseur and friend. He never got the credit he deserved for helping that 97 team play at it's best. He was a blessing to me and all the players. Vladdy? Man, what a warrior. What a great human being and hockey player. Easily the toughest player I had the privilege of working with. He would play through anything... and he did. I think about him often...wish life was better to and for him. But I do not pity him. Vladdy wouldn't allow it. I love and appreciate him, and I know his fans do too.

See you at Ozzfest 2027 🤘🏽👹🤘🏽

International World Cup fans after consuming high fructose corn syrup & red 40 for the first time

Instead of adding pink ribbons to their products every October maybe companies should just remove the cancer causing ingredients

Can we just have a Clayton County show #OPlive

An open letter to whomever broke into my car and stole my hospice grief stone. I have no illusions that the person(s) responsible will ever set their eyes on this article - but I’m an optimist; stranger things have happened. Just give back the stone. Link in comments.

MISSING: 19-year-old Kelly Nguhsantos. Last seen on 6/8/26 at approx 10:00 pm in the 9000 block of Lanham Severn Road. He is 5’8 & 180 lbs. Last seen wearing a black shirt, black shorts brown shoes and carrying a McDonalds bag. If located, please call 911.

Missing Person 16yo Amani Lee Antonae Munford. Last seen in California, Maryland on 6/8/26.

To you, it's just a Cracker Barrel parking lot. To me, it's where I gave my life to Jesus Christ. I was 21 years old. I was working at the Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee after some of the worst years of my life. I'd made mistakes. Real ones. I grew up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, raised by a mom who worked hard and didn't accept excuses. But I made decisions that should have ended my story before it ever really started. By the grace of God, they didn't. But every day, I was carrying them. One afternoon, a church group came into the restaurant, just back from a revival. I served them their meals like I served any other table. But something happened while I was serving them. I can't fully explain it to you. The Lord spoke to me. He said, “Stop running from Me.” It knocked me back. I went to find the table, and they were all gone. I could see through their windows that they were getting on their bus, and I knew deep down that if I let them drive away, I was going to keep running. So I went outside. The last woman, just as she was stepping onto the bus, turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?” I told her, “No ma’am, I’m not okay.” I told her the Lord was telling me to stop running. That whole bus emptied out, stood with me in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee, Florida, and prayed over me right there. I gave my life to Christ that day. Right there. I still get emotional about it. Because I know what I was before that moment, and I know what He's done since. He gave me a wife who shares my faith. He gave me three sons. He gave me a career, a community, a calling I never would have dared to ask for. He took a kid from Crown Heights who’d run out of chances and gave him a life that doesn't make sense apart from grace. People ask me sometimes why I talk about it. Why I bring up the parking lot. Why I don't just keep that part private and let folks see the polished version. I'll tell you why. Because there's a young man out there right now — maybe in Tallahassee, maybe in Tampa, maybe in Miami, maybe in a small town in the Panhandle — who thinks his story is already over. Who thinks the mistakes he's made disqualify him from the life he could have had. Who thinks God doesn't want anything to do with somebody like him. I'm here to tell him: that's a lie. In life, you're not who you are at the lowest point. You're who you choose to become after. The Lord met me in a Cracker Barrel parking lot. He'll meet you wherever you are. You just have to stop running.

Tastes like childhood

New Jersey school has required every freshman to hike 55 miles on the Appalachian Trail for 53 years straight. At St. Benedict’s Prep in Newark, this isn’t optional — it’s a mandatory 5-day rite of passage before becoming a sophomore. Many students have never hiked or camped before. They train together in the spring, then get split into small teams where each kid gets a critical role: navigator, medic, cook, captain, etc. No one knows everything — they must rely on each other. With minimal adult supervision, they hike rain or shine, facing blisters, sore muscles, and real challenges head-on. As one administrator put it: “The only way we can get through this is if we work together.” The result? Teens who return more confident, resilient, and bonded — proving that real growth happens when you step away from screens and into the wilderness. What an incredible tradition! Parents, educators, and anyone raising tough kids — this is gold. Who else believes we need more experiences like this?

A Dad should be the one man in your life, who wishes you do better than him, and is more happy for you, than you are, when you do.

It looks as if the beers are on you today:

RT @BaltimorePolice: Information Sought Homicide Detectives are seeking information about the murder of Lamont Goodin, who was stabbed and…

Maryland's mail-in ballot mistake is drawing renewed criticism after Lt. Gov. Aruna Miller appeared to downplay the issue, saying errors happen "in almost every election." The controversy stems from a vendor error that forced the Maryland State Board of Elections to send replacement ballots to more than 500,000 voters ahead of the state's June 23 primary election. Election officials said some voters received ballots for the wrong political party because of a coding error during the ballot production process. In an interview with Fox News Digital, Miller addressed the situation, saying, "Sometimes ballots get mailed the wrong way. It happens in almost every election." FULL STORY: bit.ly/4nYPit8

Os are red hot and just smoked the Jays…perfect time to get your Meet The Birds tickets for Gunnar and Jeremiah! See ya at @JimmysSeafood! Gunnar —> jimmysfamousseafood.com/prod… JJ —-> jimmysfamousseafood.com/prod…

The middle class is the most expensive place to live, and no one talks about it. Lower income households get assistance. The wealthy use tax strategies and loopholes. But the middle class pays full taxes, full tuition, full healthcare, full everything. So you work 50 hours a week just to stay in the same place and fund everyone’s life except yours.

Just spit my drink out! 🤣😂🤣😂

Life changing experience at 10:57 AM at Camden Yards. The crab mac dog is PHENOMENAL

#LeMondo Baltimore. #Sawthemusical