GeauxLong

Jesus was a rebel. And, he ate organic foods. Me? I’m an imperfect man, learning ...

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

A simple table in quiet cafe. Past or present which 3 people would you invite for conversation? Why?

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@dandydonlsu So proud of you Bethany!

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@dandydonlsu Absolute catch with no need for additional move due to it being third out.

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@dandydonlsu Done

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

Well that was fun to watch. Geaux Tigers!

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@MKE_Baseball Y’all play good ball!

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

Geaux Tigers!

[LSU Baseball @LSUbaseball]

Happy Wednesday ft. The New Intimidator 🙌

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

"Fall on your knees,
Hear the Angel voices..."

Just sayin... best lines of any Christmas song.

Merry Christmas!

[Mens_Corner__ @Mens_Corner__]

We understand brother

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.

Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.

One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.

Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.

Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"

"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."

He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."

The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."

Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.

But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,

"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."

So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.

Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."

Let this story reach more hearts....

Credit: Mary Nelson

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@dandydonlsu

“EVERYTHING”

#GeauxTigers

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

Fly the flag, thank a veteran, enjoy your day.

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

Geaux Tigers!

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@dandydonlsu

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

Damn Thomas. You’re a dangerous guy.

#geauxtigers

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

@DawgNationDaily Know you enjoyed that game BA!

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

C’mon Tigahs!

[GeauxLong @geauxlong]

That Braves employee who just caught Profar’s homer barehanded and gave it to a young kid, made that kid’s day. Nice job!

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

Thread 🧵

1) "When 79-year-old George retired, he didn’t buy a golf club or a hammock. He hung a handmade sign in his garage window: “Broken things? Bring ’em here. No charge. Just tea and talk.”

His neighbors in the faded mill town of Maple Grove thought he’d lost it. “Who fixes stuff for free?” grumbled the barber. But George had a reason. His wife, Ruth, had spent decades repairing torn coats and cracked picture frames for anyone who knocked. “Waste is a habit,” she’d say. “Kindness is the cure.” She’d died the year before, and George’s hands itched to mend what she’d left behind.

The first visitor was 8-year-old Mia, dragging a plastic toy truck with a missing wheel. “Dad says we can’t afford a new one,” she mumbled. George rummaged through his toolbox, humming. An hour later, the truck rolled again—this time with a bottle cap for a wheel and a stripe of silver duct tape. “Now it’s custom ,” he winked. Mia left smiling, but her mother lingered. “Can you… fix a résumé?” she asked. “I’ve been stuck on the couch since the factory closed.”

By noon, George’s garage buzzed. A widow brought a shattered clock (“My husband wound it every Sunday”). A teen carried a leaky backpack. George fixed them all, but he didn’t work alone. Retired teachers proofread résumés. A former seamstress stitched torn backpacks. Even Mia returned, handing him a jar of jam: “Mom says thanks for the job interview.”

Then came the complaint.

“Unlicensed business,” snapped the city inspector. “You’re violating zoning laws.”

Maple Grove’s mayor, a man with a spreadsheet heart, demanded George shut down. The next morning, 40 townsfolk stood on George’s lawn, holding broken toasters, torn quilts, and protest signs: “Fix the law, not just stuff!” A local reporter filmed a segment: “Is kindness illegal?”

The mayor caved. Sort of.

“If you want to ‘fix’ things, do it downtown,” he said. “Rent the old firehouse. But no guarantees.”

The firehouse became a hive. Volunteers gutted it, painted it sunshine yellow, and dubbed it “Ruth’s Hub.” Plumbers taught plumbing. Teenagers learned to darn socks. A baker swapped muffins for repaired microwaves. The town’s waste dropped by 30%.

But the real magic? Conversations. A lonely widow fixed a lamp while a single dad patched a bike tire. They talked about Ruth. About loss. About hope.

Last week, George found a note in his mailbox. It was from Mia, now 16, interning at a robotics lab. “You taught me to see value in broken things. I’m building a solar-powered prosthetic arm. PS: The truck still runs!”

Today, 12 towns across the state have “Fix-It Hubs.” None charge money. All serve tea.

Funny, isn’t it? How a man with a screwdriver can rebuild a world."

Let this story reach more hearts...

Credit: SYJ