Olivia
Online
UnwindingPro
@UnwindingPro
Father/son/friend/part time gremlin tracker. If you must know, I am an engineer that travels the world for my job. Striving to put right what once went wrong.
NJ
Joined June 2009
616 Following
186 Followers
1.3K Posts
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As managers, directors, team leads, etc; We all can learn a valuable lesson on team building from this person. Good work!
I witnessed something at a coffee shop. Teenager working register. Customer ordered. Kid rang it wrong. Customer yelled. Called him stupid. Incompetent. Made a scene. Kid kept apologizing. Near tears. Manager came over.
Expected manager to appease the customer. Apologize. Offer free stuff. Instead she said “Get out.” Customer looked shocked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. Get out of my shop. Don’t come back.”
Customer sputtered. “I’m the customer. He messed up.” Manager stayed firm.
@Matt_Calkins Matt, having been around sportswriters all my adult life, I know this had to be a tough decision.
You are a man amojng men. Honorable. Follow your beliefs my friend.
@JoelExpro @Mario_Sneh That’s the big thing. Make sure they know what they did wrong so they expect a similar response when they consider doing this to the next guest. Great job standing up for your rights. And they had a king room in reserve, that’s the worst part. They were saving it for another!
@HawkEmDownChris Bucky Dent
Who to follow
“On a day when they buried their team captain and leader.”
On August 6, 1979, just hours after laying Thurman Munson to rest, the Yankees returned to Yankee Stadium to face the Orioles. Baseball suddenly seemed insignificant, yet somehow it became the perfect way to honor the man who meant so much to the franchise. One of Munson’s closest friends, Bobby Murcer, drove in all five Yankees runs—including the walk-off hit in the bottom of the ninth—to give New York a 5-4 victory. It remains one of the most emotional and unforgettable games in baseball history.
Moments like this are why sports are so much more than wins and losses. They bring people together through grief, hope, and memories that last forever.
@HoodieFrazier I’m with Reggie on this one.
@brownwey @AndrewHarts Catchers will understand……but I’ll explain it for you. Look at the chest protector and shin guards.
Yeah, I want to be as unhappy as this pour soul. Are you f’ing kidding me?
Heartbreaking: The legendary Tom Brady was seen all alone riding his $20 million mega yacht around Miami.
Brady is currently single, and his children live with his ex-wife, Gisele Bündchen, and her husband, Joaquim Valente.
Money doesn't equal happiness 😔💔
The reason we have peace officers is to keep the peace. Something tells me this method of educating this young man will assure us all this young man won’t do this again.
Today is why I love being a Peace Officer.
Had a vehicle blow by me and almost sucked the doors open. Approximately 100 mph.
Lit up. Music on. (lights and siren). Flipped.
The chase was on.
Called the pursuit, which was short, less than 5 minutes.
Vehicle yielded. Suspect taken into custody, placed in handcuffs, no injuries, no use of force.
My first backup unit didn’t arrive until about 10 minutes after it was over.
Suspect was a 16 year old kid. No drugs. No weapons. He just made a really dumb decision.
Due to privacy and professional reasons, I can’t share any more than that, but he wasn’t a “problem thug”, he was legit a good kid.
So I made someone call his Dad. “Dad, come to this location because we need to meet.”
His Father showed up. I explained what happened. Dad is a retired paramedic. He was in tears when I explained what happened, and that I had his young son at gunpoint during a felony stop because of 120+.
He shook my hand.
I let him breathe for a few moments.
Then, I went to my patrol unit, and had the young man step out, and I unhandcuffed him. I said, “Young man, you need to step to the rear of the scene, because there’s someone who needs to have a word with you.”
I then instructed father and son to follow me to the office, where I issued multiple citations, as the young man will have to answer for his mistakes. But I wasn’t going to ruin the life of a promising 16 year old kid.
I could have taken him to jail for much, much worse.
Dad shared with me, in front of his son for the first time, the nightmares he carried from almost 30 years as a paramedic, his son had never heard before. I shared with them some of mine.
I said all that to say this…. I could have ruined this kids life. I’m honored and blessed to be entrusted with the authority to exercise discretion when I am faced with this.
The young man was in tears as he thanked me, and I’m not one bit fucking ashamed to say I was as well.
When he left the office, I was in tears again as I hugged his Father and told him I thanked God it was me and not some hard-nosed rookie.
When someone truly recognizes their mistakes, that can’t be faked.
God bless you young man; go forward with the Grace of God and make me proud.
Make us all proud.
Two newspapers. Same city. Same thing they are reporting on. @nypost
@nytimes
You can shape people’s opinion in just how the story is told.
This guy was passing by, minding his own business and jumped to action. If only we could all have those guts.
@OnlyinFlorida2 opinion?
And I have the nerve to think I’m a hero when I stay late at the office to help a client through an issue with our machinery.
This man is a MAN among men.
Seventy-two. That is how many separate wounds John Cruickshank had in him, two of them through his lungs, while he lined up a burning flying boat for a second run at a U-boat that had just shot his aircraft to pieces. Most men have one of those wounds and they are finished. He had seventy-two and he pressed the attack.
He was 24, a former bank clerk from Aberdeen, flying a Catalina flying boat out of the Shetland Islands with Coastal Command. The job was the long, freezing, mind-numbing patrol, fourteen hours over the grey Atlantic hunting the U-boats that were strangling Britain. On the 17th of July 1944, far out over empty water, they caught one on the surface, U-361, and Cruickshank took the big slow flying boat down to attack.
The first run failed. The depth charges would not release. Any sane man makes a note and turns for home. Cruickshank swung the aircraft around and came back for a second pass, low and straight, and this time the submarine's gunners were waiting. Flak ripped through the Catalina. It killed the navigator, wounded half the crew, and tore into Cruickshank again and again, those seventy-two wounds, two punching into his lungs, ten into his legs.
And he flew the attack home anyway. Bleeding everywhere, in agony, with the fuselage holed and on fire, he held the aircraft dead level, aimed, and released the depth charges himself. They straddled the U-boat perfectly. It broke apart and sank beneath him.
Then came the part that should have killed him. He collapsed from blood loss, and the wounded co-pilot, who had never landed a Catalina, took the controls for the long flight back. Cruickshank refused the morphine that would have knocked him out, because he knew the man flying needed him. Drifting in and out, he had himself carried back up to the cockpit again and again through the night to help nurse the shot-up aircraft down, and at dawn they got it onto the water safely. He had lost so much blood the doctors said he had no business being alive.
He lived. He took the Victoria Cross from the King, went quietly back to banking after the war, and rarely spoke of it. And he kept on living, and living, and living. John Cruickshank died in 2025 at the age of 105, the last man on earth wearing a Victoria Cross earned in the Second World War. Seventy-two wounds over the Atlantic, and he outlasted every other hero of that war by decades.
This man knew how to handle customers that asked for unreasonable conditions on their contracts. He answered with his own and somehow they agreed!
Never really told this story. Back during the government’s response to COVID, we were working with a bunch of defense contractors. They all told me my entire staff was required to get the vax shot or they would terminate our contracts.
I simply replied, “No. It’s none of my business what my staff puts into their bodies as long as it doesn’t affect their work. So go ahead and buy out our contracts.”
All six of them called me personally and said basically the same thing: “You can’t tell us no. Everybody has to get the vax!”
Me: “I couldn’t care less if they get the shot or don’t. Seriously, it isn’t any of my business.”
Them: “But you have to get the vax!!!”
Me: “No, we’re not going to do that. By the way, this benchmark is coming up on day so-and-so. If you’re going to buy out the contract, it’ll be cheaper for you if you do it prior to that benchmark.”
Them: “You’ll hear from our lawyers!!!”
Me: “Tell them to ask for Doctor Sean.”
Never heard another word from any of them.
Unfortunately we had a number of contracts up for renewal in 2020–22, and I figured we lost their business because I told them no. Turns out only the idiot DEI retards cared if we got the shot or not. Their engineers loved us and wanted us back, so we were renewed in every single case.
But I threw a new clause into the contracts: “Since COVID is so dangerous, we cannot come into contact with commercial airports or commercial air travel, so all air travel for us connected to this contract will be provided by you as executive private aircraft.” I don’t remember the exact lawyer-speak, but basically you’re paying for us to fly around in private jets.
Y’all know I’m a smart-ass, and frankly I just kinda threw it in as an afterthought. They’re going to call me a dumbfuck and red-line it, obviously.
They agreed. They motherfucking agreed. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
For the remainder of those contracts, some corporate jet or a leased one would drop down to a jetCenter, pick us up, and fly us to wherever the hell we were going.
It was glorious. You’d board the aircraft and they would ask, “Dr. Sean, would you like a glass of Pappy?”
Why yes, yes I would. 😂😂😂😂😂
That contract clause might be the single greatest triumph I’ve ever pulled off. It certainly put me at legend status in our little neck of the industry. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
@Oceanbreeze473 @18aDKer We each saw every episode at least two dozen times growing up. How could we forget?
@Todd_Spence @QdiChris I’m not the most in depth to the music world. Even I knew exactly who that was on the album and why he joined them on stage at LiveAid. And I watched it live that day on MTV.
Bottom line, there were few who didn’t know it was Sting on that song.
Some people are heroes by simply holding the door.
Read this to understand my meaning.
There’s a special place in heaven for angels like this. He saved 22 students that day.
He told his students to go to the windows.
Get out. Jump if you have to.
Then Liviu Librescu walked to the classroom door and pressed his body against it.
He was 76 years old. He weighed 140 lbs
The gunman was in the hallway.
It was April 16, 2007. A Monday morning. Solid mechanics class at Virginia Tech, Room 204. Twenty-two students, most of them 19 or 20 years old.
At 9:45 AM, gunshots echoed through Norris Hall. Room by room, the shooter was working his way down the corridor.
Liviu heard it. He understood immediately.
He had survived the Holocaust. He had survived a labor camp. He had spent decades living under Communist oppression. He knew exactly what evil sounded like.
He told his students to escape through the windows. Second floor — it was a drop, but they'd survive. Then he walked to the door and held it shut with his body.
The shooter tried to force it open. It wouldn't move.
He fired through the door. Wood splintered. Bullets came through.
Liviu stayed.
Behind him, students were climbing out the windows. Dropping to the ground. Running. One by one, all twenty-two of them got out.
The shooter kept firing through the door.
Liviu held it shut until every student was safe.
Then the bullets killed him.
When police arrived, they found his body at the door.
All 22 of his students survived. Not one was injured.
Liviu Librescu was born on August 18, 1930, in Ploiești, Romania.
He was Jewish. In 1941, when he was eleven years old, Romanian authorities sent him and his family to a labor camp. His father died there. Liviu survived. When the war ended, he was fifteen.
He went back to school. Studied engineering. Earned a doctorate from the University of Bucharest.
But Communist Romania had no interest in allowing a Jewish intellectual to succeed. He was blocked from academic positions. Passed over for jobs he deserved. He applied to emigrate. The government kept refusing.
Finally, in 1978 when Liviu was 48 years old — Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin personally intervened. Romania let him go.
He had spent most of his adult life trapped in a country that didn't want him.
In Israel, he taught at Tel Aviv University. Published over 300 papers. Became an international expert in aeroelasticity — the science of how air flows over aircraft wings.
In 1985, Virginia Tech offered him a position. He moved to Blacksburg, Virginia. He taught there for 22 years. His students loved him — demanding but kind, high standards, genuine care.
He was still teaching full-time at 76. Still publishing research. Still showing up every Monday morning for solid mechanics.
April 16 was the first day of Passover — the Jewish holiday celebrating liberation from slavery and oppression.
Liviu Librescu died on the day his tradition sets aside to celebrate freedom.
He spent his entire life escaping death and oppression by luck, by persistence, by the intervention of others. And on his last morning, he chose to stand at a door so that twenty-two young people could have the future he had fought so hard to reach.
He could have run. He could have hidden. He could have climbed out a window with his students.
He chose to stay.
The Virginia Tech shooting killed 32 people that day — the deadliest school shooting in American history at the time.
Room 204 had zero casualties.
Because a 76-year-old Holocaust survivor held a door with his body until every student behind him was gone.
His funeral was held in Israel. Students from Virginia Tech flew across the ocean to honor him. The Israeli government awarded him the Star of David Medal posthumously. Virginia Tech named a scholarship in his memory.
His son said his father died the way he lived — protecting others.
A man who survived everything evil threw at him for 76 years.
On his last day, he made sure 22 kids survived too.
Professor Liviu Librescu. August 18, 1930 — April 16, 2007.
Holocaust survivor. Labor camp survivor.
302 published papers. 22 years at Virginia Tech.
22 students out the window.
He held the door.
https://t.co/c3TVPIEWbf
I’m dyin’ here. You can’t make this stuff up! How sensitive are some folks?
How many here knew Palm Beach had its own airport? I’ve been flying on business for 30+ years and always assumed that was a private airport.
I was going to say, hamburger rolls, because we always got two pieces of bread with a burger….or one piece folded around a hot dog
@ThrillaRilla369 McDonald's because this is what McDonald's at home was
Now this is a TSA screening story we all can love.
This TSA agent pulled a whole rotisserie chicken out of the woman's handbag and the line behind me forgot all social rules at once.
Phones came out.
A baby stopped crying.
Even the guy who'd been complaining about belt removal went dead silent.
The chicken was still in the clear grocery lid container, warm enough to fog it slightly.
TSA Agent:
Ma'am.
Woman:
It's food.
TSA Agent:
It's a chicken.
Woman:
Exactly.
TSA Agent:
Why is it in your purse?
Woman:
Because I need both hands for my carry-on.
That part, weirdly, made sense.
But the agent wasn't ready to surrender.
TSA Agent:
You can't just bring loose poultry through security.
Woman:
It isn't loose. It's contained.
Me:
Technically she's right.
The agent turned and gave me a look that said I had become part of the problem.
TSA Agent:
Sir, I did not ask for technical support.
Woman:
My grandson only eats this specific chicken.
TSA Agent:
From the airport?
Woman:
From my grocery store. I'm flying to Phoenix. My daughter had surgery. The boy won't eat hospital food and won't eat nuggets and for some reason trusts this chicken like it's family.
That changed the line.
You could actually feel everybody soften by about ten percent.
The agent looked at the chicken again like maybe it had become more legitimate through context.
TSA Agent:
It still has to be screened.
Woman:
Screen it all you want. He has both drumsticks called already.
She meant the child, but it still sounded threatening.
They swabbed the container.
They scanned it.
They opened it just enough to make the whole area smell incredible.
A man three bins behind me actually said:
Passenger:
Well now I'm hungry.
The agent was trying very hard to remain official.
TSA Agent:
Next time put it in a cooler bag.
Woman:
Next time my daughter can have surgery somewhere with decent food.
The agent almost smiled.
At the gate, the woman sat across from me with the chicken on her lap like a tiny weird pet.
Her phone rang.
Grandson, on speaker:
Did you bring it?
Woman:
I brought it.
Grandson:
The whole one?
Woman:
The whole one.
He screamed so loudly the gate agent looked up.
When they boarded families first, the woman stood and looked at me.
Woman:
You think it'll still be warm?
Me:
Honestly? That kid's not going to care.
She nodded like I'd said something wise.
I don't know if the chicken made it.
But I know that boy was waiting on it harder than most people wait on inheritance.
@MemoryLaneTime @ThrillaRilla369 I was at college. Someone interrupted class to say “Hey, I just heard, that NASA Space plane just blew up”.
It was an engineering class, so we all knew how massive this was and was going to be.
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