RachelinSales

[Avery Daye @AveryDaye]

We gain NOTHING from mass migration from third-world Islamic countries. They don’t assimilate. They openly say they want Sharia, call us dirty infidels, and aim to conquer. They rape us, stab us, behead us, for being white, then demand we pay for it all.

Tolerance of their intolerance will erase us.

[Cleveland Sports Talk @CLEsportsTalk]

Good Times. #RollTribe

[Joey Mannarino @JoeyMannarino]

I am banned from entering the United Kingdom because I have been deemed to be "not conducive to the public good".

The Sudanese migrant who literally was cutting a man's head off in the middle of the street in Belfast was given refugee status and full financial benefits by the same government that banned me.

I have never seen a more glaring example of stupidity.

[Mike Snyder @snyder1100]

Big Boy comes to town!
@NewsradioWTAM1100
@Snyder1100

[SaltyGoat @SaltyGoat17]

Marco Rubio’s family fled communism in Cuba
Dad = bartender
Mom = maid
First in his family to go to college.
Won a shock election for Senate at 39
Now the best Secretary of State in history!

THAT is the American dream!!

Not sneaking in and living on taxpayers forever!!!

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

His name was Roddie Edmonds.

Most people had never heard of him.

A quiet Methodist from Knoxville, Tennessee. A husband. A father. A churchgoing man who came home from World War II, raised his family, and never once bragged about what he had done.

The world almost lost his story completely.

December 1944.

The Battle of the Bulge.

Roddie Edmonds had been on the Western Front less than a week when his unit was surrounded by German forces. Thousands of American soldiers were captured during Hitler’s final major offensive.

Edmonds became one of them.

What followed was brutal.

A forced march through freezing snow.
Men collapsing from exhaustion.
Packed into rail cars with almost no food or water.
Days of starvation and cold before arriving at Stalag IX-A, a German prison camp.

As the highest-ranking American noncommissioned officer there, Edmonds was responsible for 1,292 prisoners.

Then came the order.

All Jewish soldiers were to report separately the next morning.

Everyone understood what that meant.

Separation was not administration.

It was a death sentence.

That night, Edmonds gathered his men and gave a simple instruction:

“All of you. Every American. Outside in formation tomorrow morning.”

The next day, the German commandant arrived expecting a small group.

Instead, he found 1,292 American prisoners standing shoulder to shoulder.

Furious, he shouted:

“They cannot all be Jews!”

Roddie Edmonds answered with four words that would echo across history:

“We are all Jews here.”

The commandant pulled out a pistol and pressed it against Edmonds’s forehead.

He threatened to shoot him if he did not identify the Jewish soldiers immediately.

Edmonds never moved.

Instead, he calmly reminded the officer that under the Geneva Convention, prisoners only had to give their name, rank, and serial number.

Then he said this:

“If you shoot, you’ll have to shoot all of us. And when this war is over — which it nearly is — you’ll be tried as a war criminal.”

The commandant lowered the gun.

Turned around.

And walked away.

About 200 Jewish-American soldiers were saved that morning because one man refused to divide his men into categories worth protecting and categories worth surrendering.

But Edmonds wasn’t finished.

Weeks later, the Germans ordered the prisoners onto another forced march through the snow.

Edmonds knew many would die.

So he secretly told his men to make themselves appear too sick to travel — eat dirt, grass, whatever it took.

When the Germans came, the Americans stayed behind.

Nearly all the prisoners forced onto the march died.

Edmonds’s men survived to be liberated by General Patton’s forces in March 1945.

And then?

Roddie Edmonds came home and said almost nothing about it.

No speeches.
No interviews.
No book deals.

He worked. Went to church. Raised his children.

He died in 1985.

His family knew he had been a POW.

They had no idea he had saved hundreds of lives.

The truth only resurfaced decades later after his son discovered his wartime diary and began contacting survivors whose names were written inside.

Again and again, they told the same story.

The same frozen morning.
The same pistol.
The same four words.

“We are all Jews here.”

In 2015, Yad Vashem recognized Roddie Edmonds as “Righteous Among the Nations” — the first American soldier ever to receive the honor.

And in 2026, more than 80 years after that moment in the prison yard, his son accepted the Medal of Honor on his behalf.

No battlefield charge.
No dramatic explosion.

Just moral courage.

A man staring down a loaded gun and refusing to hand over his soldiers.

One survivor later said:

“That such people can exist gives you hope for humanity.”

They do exist.

Roddie Edmonds was one of them.

[ᶠᵃⁿ In-N-Out Burgers @innoutburger_]

BEST BURGER AND FRIES IN AMERICA

[Ladytron Fan Account @Lady_FanAccount]

Noel Gallagher wrote and recorded the lead vocals for "Don't Look Back In Anger" (Liam refused to sing, finding the song "too much of the Beatles" and "too soft," so he only entered backing vocals). The iconic piano riff was created by Noel at Rockfield Studios in Wales as a direct tribute to John Lennon.

Released as the fifth single from the album (What's the Story) Morning Glory?, it reached #1 on the UK Singles Chart and spent 20 weeks on the chart.

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

At seventy-nine, I live alone.

And for the first time in my life, I feel completely at peace.

When people hear that, I notice the look in their eyes. A softness. A kind of pity.

They ask gently:
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“Isn’t the silence hard?”

I always smile.

Because living alone is not the same as being lonely.

My name is Angela. I’m seventy-nine years old, and I live in the same apartment that once overflowed with noise — children running through the hallway, doors slamming, laughter from the kitchen, voices talking over one another at dinner.

I was a wife.
I was a mother.
I was the person who remembered everything.

Appointments.
Birthdays.
Groceries.
Medicines.
The small invisible tasks that quietly hold a family together.

I gave my life to the people I loved, and I do not regret it. But I also carried a tiredness I never spoke about.

Then my husband died.

After that, everyone worried about me.

“You shouldn’t live alone.”
“You need someone to take care of you.”
“You should stay with your children.”

I know those words came from love.

But hidden inside them was another idea:
that a woman my age could not possibly enjoy solitude.
That silence must mean sadness.

At first, even I wondered if something was wrong with me for liking the quiet.

Then one morning, standing by the window with a cup of coffee in my hands, watching strangers hurry through an ordinary gray morning, I realized something that changed me completely:

I had not been abandoned by life.

I had finally been returned to myself.

Now I wake when my body is ready.
I cook what I want.
I rest when I’m tired.
Some days I speak to no one at all — and yet I feel full, not empty.

I read.
I walk.
I watch old films.
I sit with my thoughts without rushing to escape them.

The silence no longer frightens me.

It comforts me.

My children have their own lives now, and that is exactly how it should be. I raised them to become independent adults, not lifelong caretakers of my happiness.

Of course I still feel nostalgia sometimes.
I miss certain voices.
Certain moments.
Certain versions of life that no longer exist.

But nostalgia is not the same thing as regret.

What I feel most now is peace.

The peace of no longer needing to prove anything.
The peace of having spent decades caring for others and finally learning how to care for myself.
The peace of understanding that solitude can be a gift instead of a punishment.

So when people still ask me,
“Angela… doesn’t the night scare you?”

I answer honestly:

No.

Silence is not my enemy.

It is my home.

And here, at last, I feel free.

[Mikey McNuggets @MikeLucasTV]

I know I’m not the first to say this but…

The fan experience at Progressive Field is legitimately 10/10.

[Across The Cavs @AcrossCavs]

⚾️6X All-Star
⚾️4X Gold Glove
⚾️2,428 hits
⚾️622 SB's

Nothing he didn't do on the field. A Cleveland legend.

RT to wish Kenny Lofton a happy 59th birthday!

[Dominik Tarczyński MEP @D_Tarczynski]

Here’s how Polish fans celebrate their club’s victory.

Before leaving the square, they cleaned up after themselves. No one was beaten up or raped.

Be Like Poland.

[Bernie Kosar @BernieKosarQB]

Hope everyone is having a great weekend! 🙌🏼

Great spending time with the talented Shedeur Sanders — an outstanding young man with a bright future ahead. His work ethic, leadership, and commitment to excellence are what Game Changers are all about.

Keep making a positive difference and inspiring others every day. 🏈🙏🏼

#UMatter 🙌🏼

[Cleveland Sports Talk @CLEsportsTalk]

19 years ago today we witnesses one of the greatest playoff performances EVER:

[Lewis Miles @Maga4liberty]

🚨 Bill Clinton just admitted what everyone’s been afraid to say out loud:
“I offered Palestine all of Gaza and 97% of the West Bank… but they never really wanted a homeland for themselves.”
“They just wanted to kill the Jews.”
Even Bill Clinton is done pretending.
How much longer are we supposed to act like this conflict is about “land” and not pure hatred?

[Cleveland Cavaliers @cavs]

We <3 CLE, too, @machinegunkelly!

@RocketOTD | #LetEmKnow

[Dr. M.F. Khan @Dr_TheHistories]

Instead of hiding his daughter with Down syndrome, Charles de Gaulle raised her proudly and she became the heart of his life....

When Charles de Gaulle died in 1970, he made a quiet request that surprised many. He did not want a grand state funeral in Paris. He asked to be buried in the small village of Colombey les Deux Églises, beside his daughter Anne. For him, that resting place mattered more than any monument.

Anne was born on New Year’s Day in 1928, youngest of three children. She had Down syndrome, a condition surrounded by fear and misinformation at the time. Doctors and society often blamed parents and urged families to hide children like her from public view. For families of power and status, sending such children away was considered normal. Charles and his wife Yvonne refused. They raised Anne at home with her brother Philippe and sister Élisabeth. There was no secrecy, no shame, no separation. She was simply their daughter.

To the world, de Gaulle was distant and unyielding. A leader shaped by war, discipline, and command. But inside his home, Anne revealed a side few ever saw. With her, he laughed freely. He sang songs, told stories, and played games. Friends noticed that the man who rarely showed emotion softened completely in her presence. He called her my joy. Anne asked nothing of him except love, and in that simplicity, he found peace. She was never treated as fragile or inferior. She was respected fully, included always, and loved without condition.

That love did not end within the family. After the war, Charles and Yvonne founded the Fondation Anne de Gaulle. They turned a château into a home for young women with intellectual disabilities, many of whom had been abandoned. At a time when support barely existed, they chose action over silence.

Anne’s life was short. She died of pneumonia in 1948, just after turning twenty, in her father’s arms. In his grief, de Gaulle whispered that now she was like the others, finally free from the limits the world had placed on her.

After her death, he carried her photograph everywhere. He believed her presence protected him, even during an assassination attempt years later. Whether faith or fate, he never doubted her importance in his life.

Charles de Gaulle found his deepest calm not in leadership or victory, but in loving a child the world did not understand. His family showed that dignity is not about ability. It is about how fiercely we choose to care.

© Soul Whisper

#drthehistories

[Trisha Posner @trishaposner]

Acclaimed Hungarian Jewish director László Nemes just dropped a truth bomb at Cannes: “There’s an orgy of antisemitism, an absolute, shameless orgy of antisemitism, overtaking the West.”

His 2015 masterpiece Son of Saul — a harrowing film about a Sonderkommando at Auschwitz — won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film and the Cannes Grand Prix.

Today? He says it “wouldn’t even make the Oscar shortlist.” Because “of the politicization of cinemas, because anything that’s Jewish is now considered . . .nobody would touch it with a 10-foot pole.”

This is where we are. Jews are being erased from the stories of their own genocide while Hollywood and the cultural elite cheer. The entertainment industry’s antisemitic purge is real — and it’s accelerating.
We must call it out. Every single time. Thanks László Nemes for doing so at the risk of your own career.
#JewHatred #Antisemitism

[Cleveland Cavaliers @cavs]

DO YOUR PART, CLEVELAND.

#LetEmKnow by wearing your damn shirt presented by @Redfin and waving your rally towel presented by @Lexus.