Georgia Tech joins the 2026 #ForbesNewIvies list. Its main campus is located in Atlanta, Georgia and offers majors and degrees through the colleges of Design, Computing, Engineering, Sciences, the Scheller College of Business, and the Ivan Allen College of Liberal Arts. Read more about this year's list: https://t.co/PhlACbNpPx
The best in the Buzzness 🐝🏆🏆
We knew it. You knew it. Now, the nation knows it — again. @Buzz_GT is a back-to-back National Champion! | https://t.co/ETw3FEO5lm
March 21, 1992: With 7-seed Georgia Tech (@GTMBB) down two with 0.8 seconds left, James Forrest nails a desperation three to beat 2-seed USC 79-78 in the second round of the NCAA Tournament.
“Holy mackerel! Holy mackerel!”
@Google It looks like you guys broke something with a recent Gmail update because some email is incorrectly being put in my "Primary" folder/tab that should be in the "Promotions" or "Updates" folders/tabs.
Derrick Morgan, 1st round pick out of Georgia Tech—on how GT’s academics papered him for a successful NFL career. Full episode at @IntangibleCast@dmorg91
On this day in 1989, a food chemist from Illinois named Clark Wilhelm Griswold put down a $7,500 deposit for installation of an in-ground swimming pool while assuming his upcoming Christmas bonus would cover the rest.
We strong. The hardest thing I ever did was attend and graduate from this institute. The next hardest was being a GT sports fan 😂 it’s easy to be fans of teams that win all the time, but grit is what made us successful at GT and beyond. We were quite literally built for this.
"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