What BAND gets YOU in a GREAT mood EVERY time???

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My son Mike was diagnosed with cancer in the spring of 2023; it was surgically removed with no other treatment. Within 6 months, the cancer returned in his stomach and in his adrenal glands. He then had to undergo aggressive chemotherapy treatment 5 days a week for 3 and a half months. Sometimes it was 4 to 5 hours each day with 3 different types of chemo. He never complained. He never worried. Each day he was scheduled to work, he showed up in uniform and served and protected the citizens of Kemper County as one of Sheriff Moore's deputies. Even though he was fighting a battle no one could tell, because he kept on going, and believe it or not, he helped keep me sane because my level of stress and concern for my child was through the roof. There’s plenty of males out here that don’t go to the doctor for check-up but I highly recommend you do. You might look good and feel good but the inside of your body could be telling otherwise. Today made 20 months my son been cancer free and I thank Lord Almighty for having mercy on my son . Credit - Loretta Allen

I am not ashamed of my journey. My life will be a testimony. But if I could offer a word of advice to any freshman, sophomore or junior athlete in high school it would be to just listen bro. All them adults in your life not just talking to talk. They been here longer. They done bumped they head already. They trying to save you from doing the same thing. Do not make the mistake of thinking your talent alone is enough. It’s not. Talent open doors. Character and grades keep you there. And if you already messed up, if your GPA not where it should be, if your name been in rooms for the wrong reasons… don’t quit. Keep digging. You can climb out the hole the same way you dug it. Class of 29, 28 and 27 hear me. Take your grades serious.
Choose who you hang around wisely.
Protect your name. Word spreads fast if you a crash out.
Respect authority. Nobody riding for you like your parents and coaches.
Work hard when nobody clapping. Do not wait until senior year to lock in. That GPA do not lie. I’m still figuring it out myself. I’m struggling but I know God got me. Be intentional.
Lock in early. Pray. Show up ready to work. I’m learning the hard way that my future is being built in the small decisions I make today. Start now.

I drive Uber. Night shift mostly. Last week picked up an old man at 11 PM. He got in and said: "I need you to drive me to five places tonight. I'll pay you $500. Cash. But you can't ask why until we're done." Handed me five addresses. First stop: a house in the suburbs. He sat in the car. Stared at it for ten minutes. Crying silently. "Okay. Next one." I drove. Second stop: elementary school. Empty. Dark. He got out. Walked to the playground. Sat on a swing. Stayed there twenty minutes. Came back to the car. "I taught here. 43 years. Best job I ever had." Third stop: diner. He went inside. Ordered coffee. Sat alone in a booth. Didn't drink it. Just sat. Looking around. Fifteen minutes. Came back. "My wife and I had our first date here. 1967." Fourth stop: cemetery. He got out at the cemetery. Walked to a grave. Stood there. Talking to it. Couldn't hear what he said. Thirty minutes. When he came back his eyes were red. "My wife. Three years today." Fifth stop: hospital. He asked me to park. Wait. "This is the last one." He looked at me. "Now I'll tell you why. I have stage four cancer. Weeks left. Maybe days. Tonight I wanted to see my whole life. One last time. Before I can't anymore." I started crying. Right there. "The house - that's where I raised my kids. The school - where I found my purpose. The diner - where I fell in love. The cemetery - where I said goodbye. And here. The hospital. Where I'm checking in tonight. Hospice floor. I'm not going home." He handed me $500. "Thank you for driving me through my life. You're the last stranger who'll ever be kind to me. I wanted it to be gentle. You made it gentle." I refused the money. "I can't take this." He insisted. "Please. I have nobody to leave it to. My kids don't talk to me. I have no friends left. You gave me three hours of kindness. That's worth more than $500 to me." He got out. Grabbed his small suitcase. Turned back. "What's your name?" "Marcus." "Thank you, Marcus. For being the last good thing." He walked into the hospital. I sat in my car. Sobbing. For an hour. Couldn't stop thinking about him. Went back next day. Asked for him. "Mr. Patterson. Room 412." Brought flowers. Knocked. He was in bed. Smiled when he saw me. "Marcus. You came back." "Couldn't leave it like that. Are you okay?" "Dying. But I got to see my life last night. So yes. I'm okay." We talked for two hours. About his wife. His students. The kids who stopped calling. The life he lived. I visited every day for two weeks. Brought coffee. Read him the news. Sat in silence sometimes. He told me everything. The regrets. The joys. The moments he'd relive. "I thought I'd die alone," he said one day. "But you're here. A stranger who became family in my last days. That's a gift." I held his hand. "You're not dying alone. Not anymore." He cried. "Thank you for seeing me. When I was invisible." Mr. Patterson died on a Tuesday. 3:17 AM. I was there. Holding his hand. His last words: "Tell people. Tell them to look at strangers. Really look. Everyone's dying. Some faster than others. But we're all heading somewhere. Be kind on the way. You were kind. You saved my last days." He closed his eyes. Heart monitor flatlined. I stayed another hour. Couldn't let go. He died with someone. That mattered. His funeral had six people. Me. Three nurses. A lawyer. One former student who saw the obituary. That's it. A man who taught for 43 years. Loved a woman for 52. Lived 81 years. Six people. I spoke. "Mr. Patterson taught me something in his last two weeks. Every stranger is someone's whole world. Every Uber passenger has a story. Every person you pass is living and dying and hoping someone sees them. He paid me $500 to drive him through his life. But he gave me something worth more. The knowledge that kindness to strangers isn't extra. It's everything. Because we're all strangers. Until someone stops. Looks. Listens. Stays." I keep the $500 in my glove box. Never spent it. It's a reminder.

Almost forgot!

OutKast, Whodini and RunDmC

Today, we mourn as we say farewell to Harry Stewart Jr., a legendary Tuskegee Airman and World War II fighter pilot, who passed away at the age of 100. With his final ascent, the world loses not only a hero, but a pioneer who dared to rise when the odds were stacked against him. At just 18 years old, Harry enlisted in the Army Air Corps, stepping forward in a time when courage required more than bravery, it demanded resilience in the face of injustice. He answered the call anyway. Through 43 perilous combat missions, he flew straight into danger, carrying the weight of a nation’s hope and the determination to prove that excellence knows no color.🕊️🇺🇸✈️ In one extraordinary day, Harry achieved three aerial victories, a testament to his skill, fearlessness, and unwavering resolve. As part of the Tuskegee Airmen, the first all-Black American fighter squadron of World War II, he and his brothers shattered enemy formations and long-standing barriers alike, earning respect in the skies and helping reshape the future on the ground. Now, the pilot who once guarded freedom from above has completed his final mission. His wings are at rest, but his legacy continues to soar, etched into history, carried forward by every door he helped open.

ALPHA PHI ALPHA FRATERNITY, INC. DONATES $20,000 TO CANCER RESEARCH IN HONOR OF LATE ALPHA BROTHER AND ESPN ANCHOR/SPORTSCASTER STUART SCOTT tinyurl.com/ycxue6td Please share. #APA1906Network #MenOfDistinction

Today, we recognize and celebrate the birthday of Jewel Brother Henry Arthur Callis, one of the Jewel Founders of our dear Fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc.

This maybe OM on tomorrow.

Trust in the Lord.

Anonymous I was flying Southwest from Dallas to New York. Three rows ahead of me, there was a young soldier in uniform. He looked barely 18. He was staring straight ahead, gripping the armrests. He looked nervous. When the drink cart came around, the flight attendant asked him what he wanted. 'Coke, please,' he said. 'Heading home?' she asked kindly. 'No, ma'am,' he said. 'Deploying. First time.' The whole row went quiet. The flight attendant didn't say a word. she handed him his Coke. Then, she got on the PA system. 'Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest in Row 8 today. Private Miller is on his first deployment to serve our country. Since I can't buy him a drink, I’m going to ask a favor. If you want to write him a note of encouragement, pass it forward.' I grabbed a napkin. I wrote: 'You got this. Stay safe. - A dad from Row 12.' I watched as napkins traveled up the aisle. Napkins, receipts, pages torn from books. By the time we landed, the soldier had a pile of paper on his tray table three inches high. He stood up to get his bag, and he was wiping his eyes. He carefully packed every single scrap of paper into his rucksack. 'Thank you,' he told the flight attendant. 'No,' she said. 'Thank you.' We all walked off that plane a little quieter, reminded that freedom is just a word until you meet the kid who is defending it.

I guess the only person mad about the Sugar Bowl other than Georgia fans is Greg Sankey.

And it’s killing college football

🚨Hawaii football team joins together for prayer after winning the 'Hawaii Bowl'🔥

A wife helps her blind husband follow their son’s game by tracing each play on his back.

James Brown, B.B. King & Bobby Bland performing this blues medley is absolutely hilarious

At your lowest, you will meet a man named Jesus. It is very important that you accept Him as your lord and savior.