For the past 25 years, I have had the privilege to volunteer as an NYS EMT for my local ambulance corps (Hatzolah of Great Neck and Queens). 2020 was beyond challenging, our call volume exploded and we responded to community needs regardless of the risk and danger to ourselves 1/
That road is Route 1 in Iceland. A week driving it costs roughly $2,500 per person. Flights from the US run $500-600 round trip. Gas is $8-9 per gallon. A glacier hike is $125. A night in a decent hotel near Vatnajökull is $160-200.
Total tab for two people to spend a week staring at that glacier instead of a monitor: somewhere around $7,000.
The median American household earns that in about 18 working days. Sitting in a room. Staring at a screen.
The people who actually drive that road on a random Tuesday in March fall into two categories: retirees who stared at screens for 40 years and saved enough to stop, or remote workers who figured out how to stare at a screen from Reykjavik instead of a cubicle in Ohio.
Both paths run through the screen.
The photo is real. The freedom it represents costs $7,000 and 10 days of PTO. The device you’re reading this complaint on is the same device that books the flight.
This nightmare that began on 10/7/23 has finally ended for his family and the world’s Jewish community.
At last, Ran Gvili can be put to eternal rest.
I will always stand with Israel and the global Jewish community, and support its right to exist in peace and security.
The deceased hostage SFC Ran Gvili has been identified and will be returned for burial.
According to the information and intelligence available to us, SFC Ran Gvili, 24, who served in the Israeli Police Special Forces, fell in combat on the morning of Oct. 7, 2023, and his body was abducted to Gaza.
The IDF expresses deep condolences to family. The IDF will continue to support the families and the returnees, and to act to strengthen the security of the citizens of Israel.
My husband passed away from cancer half a year ago. In his final month, he desperately pushed me to divorce him, saying he didn’t want to hold me back. But I flat-out refused, and we argued fiercely about it several times.
What haunts me most is the day he left—I raced to the hospital, speeding all the way, but still arrived ten minutes too late. These past six months, I’ve often broken down, convinced that he must have resented me—for not listening, for being too stubborn, for not letting go. I felt he punished me by not letting me see him one last time.
A while ago, I came across a psychology teacher on Facebook and, on a whim, reached out to her. After reading my story, she stayed silent for a long time, then said: “He didn’t hold any grudge against you. He just couldn’t bear to see you cry. Look for the notebook he kept in his hospital room—the answer you need is in there.”
I was stunned. That notebook was where he recorded his treatment journey. I thought it was just medical notes and never had the courage to open it. Back home, my hands trembling, I flipped through it and found a folded letter tucked inside. The handwriting was shaky and uneven:
“My love, I pushed you to divorce because I wanted you to have an easier future. But deep down, when you refused, I felt so relieved. Thank you for not leaving me, thank you for staying by my side through this battle. I was afraid seeing me take my last breath would haunt your dreams, so I slipped away while you weren’t here. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you till we grew old.”
Reading it, I cried until I was sick. He never hated me. He loved me all along.
That night, I dreamt of him for the first time in so long. He came over, gently touched my head, and wiped my tears. When I woke up, my pillow was soaked, but that tight knot inside me—it finally came undone.
Thank you, my love. And thank you, teacher. 🙏
130 schools said no.
He led the losingest program in college football history to a national championship anyway.
Fernando Mendoza was a 2-star recruit from Miami.
He tried to walk on at his hometown school. They passed.
So did FIU.
So did FAU.
So did everyone else.
At 17, he was sitting in his bedroom, crying over a silent recruiting inbox—after driving to 18 camps with his dad and sending highlights to more than 100 programs.
Not one FBS offer.
His only option? Yale. No scholarship. No NFL path.
Everyone told him to be “realistic.”
“Know your place.”
“Be grateful.”
He didn’t listen.
Because Mendoza understood something most people miss:
The worst outcome isn’t failing.
It’s never getting the chance to try.
Two weeks before signing day in 2022, his phone rang.
Cal needed a body. One offer. Out of 134 schools.
He took it.
He arrived as the third-string quarterback.
Spent a year on the scout team.
Lost his first four starts.
Got sacked 41 times behind a broken offensive line.
Still got up. Every time.
Then Cal brought in a transfer instead of building around him.
So Mendoza left the only school that had ever said yes.
He transferred to Indiana—the losingest program in college football history.
People laughed.
“Career suicide.”
“Graveyard program.”
“Nobody wins there.”
One coach told him something different:
“I’m going to make you the best Fernando Mendoza possible.”
That was enough.
Mendoza wasn’t just playing for football.
His mother has battled multiple sclerosis for 18 years.
Before every snap, he thought of her.
“My mother is my why.”
Indiana went 16–0.
Beat six Top-10 teams.
Won their first Big Ten title since 1945.
Mendoza threw 41 touchdowns.
Won the Heisman—first in school history.
First Cuban-American to ever do it.
Then came the title game.
Miami. Near his hometown.
Fourth-and-4. Season on the line.
Quarterback draw.
The kid 134 schools rejected spun through defenders and dove into the end zone.
Game over.
Indiana—national champions.
The losingest program became the best team in America.
All because a 17-year-old refused to believe “no” was the end.
Rankings don’t decide your ceiling.
Gatekeepers don’t write your ending.
Being overlooked isn’t a verdict—it’s a starting point.
Sometimes all you need is one shot…
and the courage to bet on yourself when nobody else will.
Don’t quit.
Credit: Barclay Mullins
In 1963, the famous photographer Richard Avedon took a picture of a man named William Casby. William Casby, born in 1857, was 106 years old at the time. In his hands, he was holding his great-great-granddaughter, Cherri Stamps-McCray.
The image amazes me because the elderly gentleman holding his descendant so tenderly, was born into slavery more than a century prior. Casby would eventually live until 1970, dying at the age of 113.
His great- and great-grandchildren are alive today, and many of them remember him.
It puts into perspective just how relatively recent slavery existed. Because as faraway and distant as it may feel now. Even in modern-day America, there are people who have active memories of talking to former slaves.
Look at more amazing historical photos: https://t.co/dQjceOPkrz
I have resigned as the honorary secretary of the Oxford Literary Debating & Union Trust, the charity that owns the @OxfordUnion’s buildings, and dispenses its charitable responsibilities onto the Union as its delegate.
The callousness of the Union’s President-Elect has shocked me, but I also can't accept the lack of intervention on the issue.
The trust is full of the most incredible people. I hope this ultimately helps, in a tiny way, a great British institution that I care so much about.
We are asking for the public's help identifying this person of interest in connection with the fatal shooting of Charlie Kirk at Utah Valley University.
1-800-CALL-FBI
Digital media tips: https://t.co/K7maX81TjJ
Charlie Kirk changed my life.
I attended Turning Point USA's Young Black Leadership Summit in October 2018. I was 14 at the time but Charlie told me it didn't matter how young I was, I could fight alongside him in this movement.
From then on, I attended every Turning Point Conference every year. From 2018 to 2025.
I grew up in this movement. I became the person I am today because of the inspiration from Charlie Kirk and his organization.
I will never be the same without him, and this country will never be the same either.
He was a husband, a father, a man of God, and a visionary for our nation.