This story may seem sad, but it is an attesment to the dedication this couple had for each other. It’s something you don’t see every day.

Tuesday afternoon, 100-year-old J.C. Cox and his and 96-year-old wife Josie were buried together.

The couple — married for 75 years — died within five hours of each other.

Their story begins on Christmas Day in 1932.

“She was telling me they went up to a pastor’s door and knocked on the door,” said Lesha Grimm, one of the Cox’s granddaughters. “He didn’t marry them, so they went to another pastor’s house.”

Persistence never left them. They kept their wedding vows for 75 years, through the deaths of their own children, the lives of three new generations and the inevitable changes in each other.

“He was 120 pounds at most, ever,” Grimm said. “She was a fat granny.”

While Josie was described as a talker, J.C. said little.

“He couldn’t hear real well and he didn’t talk much anyway,” said Marla Williamson, another of the Cox’s granddaughters. “That was his way of socializing with you was to share Dr Pepper.”

The fridge is still loaded with Dr Pepper. The little Fort Worth house is unchanged.

“They stayed together the whole time,” Williamson said, pointing out the bed they had shared.

Mrs. Cox insisted on being the sole person to care for J.C., even up until the moment they entered a nursing home last month.

“She was still ironing his clothes three weeks ago,” Williamson said.

“She was going to make sure — even though he never went anywhere — his clothes were going to be starched,” Grimm said.

The granddaughter said their closeness was apparent up until the second they died. A few days ago, Mr. Cox took Mrs. Cox’s hand and he slipped away.

“Holding hands — and that’s how they died,” Williamson said, with tears in her eyes. “Pa died holding onto Granny.”

Just five hours later, she, too, let go, as her family whispered to her.

“Your children are waiting for you, and Pa is waiting for you,” Grimm said. “It’s okay; you can let go and we’ll all be okay together. And a minute later, she passed.”

http://www.wfaa.com/sharedcontent/dws/wfaa/latestnews/stories/wfaa080401_mo_lovecouple.216b6a71.html

Juan Mann - Founder of the Free Hugs Campaign

This has been out for a while, but I found it inspiring and wanted it out here. Below is clipped from YouTube. It is from the original video. There are many other videos from all over the world. You can see them here.

Sometimes, a hug is all what we need. Free hugs is a real life controversial story of Juan Mann, A man whos sole mission was to reach out and hug a stranger to brighten up their lives.

In this age of social disconnectivity and lack of human contact, the effects of the Free Hugs campaign became phenomenal.

As this symbol of human hope spread accross the city, police and officials ordered the Free Hugs campaign BANNED. What we then witness is the true spirit of humanity come together in what can only be described as awe inspiring.

In the Spirit of the free hugs campaign, PASS THIS TO A FRIEND and HUG A STRANGER! After all, If you can reach just one person…

Music by Sick Puppies. Their album is out April 3rd called “Dressed Up As Life”. Go out and support these guys.

(Visit http://sickpuppies.net or http://myspace.com/sickpuppies for the music)

]]> http://goodnewsus.wordpress.com/2008/09/09/free-hugs-campaign/feed/ 0 goodnewsus juan_mann http://goodnewsus.wordpress.com/2007/12/14/all-good-things/ http://goodnewsus.wordpress.com/2007/12/14/all-good-things/#comments Sat, 15 Dec 2007 03:34:05 +0000 goodnewsus http://www.goodnewsus.com/?p=69 ]]> He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary’s School in Morris, Minnesota. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. [He was] very neat in appearance but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischieviousness delightful.

Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving: “Thank you for correcting me, Sister!” I didn’t know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice teacher’s mistake. I looked at him and said, “If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!”

It wasn’t ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, “Mark is talking again.” I hadn’t asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark’s desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark’s desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, “Thank you for correcting me, Sister.”

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the “new math,” he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One Friday, things just didn’t feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves — and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, “Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend.”

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. “Really?” I heard whispered. “I never knew that meant anything to anyone!” “I didn’t know others liked me so much!” No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn’t matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip — the weather, my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply said, “Dad?”

My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. “The Eklunds called last night,” he began.

“Really?” I said. “I haven’t heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is.”

Dad responded quietly. “Mark was killed in Vietnam,” he said. “The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend.” To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me. The church was packed with Mark’s friends. Chuck’s sister sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. “Were you Mark’s math teacher?” he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. “Mark talked about you a lot,” he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark’s former classmates headed to Chuck’s farmhouse for lunch. Mark’s mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. “We want to show you something,” his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. “They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.”

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark’s classmates had said about him.

“Thank you so much for doing that,” Mark’s mother said. “As you can see, Mark treasured it.”

Mark’s classmates started to gather around us.

Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, “I still have my list. It’s in the top drawer of my desk at home.”

Chuck’s wife said, “Chuck asked me to put this in our wedding album.”

“I have mine too,” Marilyn said. “It’s in my diary.”

Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. “I carry this with me at all times,” Vicki said, without batting an eyelash. “I think we all saved our lists.”

That’s when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

By: Sister Helen P. Mrosla
The purpose of this letter, is to encourage everyone to compliment the people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things could mean the most to another. I am asking you to please send this letter around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don’t know when that one day will be. So please, I beg of you, to tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.I leave these messages with you and ask you to continue to spread the message to everyone you know.

http://www.snopes.com/glurge/allgood.asp

Knight has had open heart surgery twice. She knows what it’s like to have help from others, and she wants to help other children who are in poor health.

Knight wrote to Locks of Love, and she also sent 13 inches of her silky blonde hair.

“This year for the holidays I wanted to do something for a kid who has cancer,” Knight writes in her letter. “When I was in the hospital having surgery to fix my heart, my nurse told me about Locks of Love, since my hair was long. I told my mom I wanted to get my hair cut to make a wig for a kid that has cancer. So I had a haircut and we are sending my ponytail to them, so a kid can smile with hair for the holidays.”

Pamela McKinney Capps, Knight’s neighbor and a hairdresser at Hair Reflections on N.C. 65, cut Knight’s hair.

“I was shocked when Haylea asked me to cut all her hair off,” said Capps. She said the neighborhood children gathered in the yard to see Knight after her hair was cut. Capps’ 7-year-old son, Christian, and 8-year-old nephew, Kyler Whicker, were upset when they saw that Knight’s long locks had been removed.

“They had their hands on their hips and asked, ‘Why did you cut off all of Haylea’s hair?’” said Capps.

Knight’s open heart surgery in July prevented her from doing the things she enjoys the most. But she quickly rebounded and is jumping around, having fun once again.

Knight’s grandmother, Starr Tuttle, calls her “a bottle of energy.”

“You would never know this child had heart surgery. She’s wide open,” said Tuttle.

“It’s just by chance that they found her heart condition because she was very healthy.”

In August 2006, Tuttle took Knight for her 5-year-old checkup, and the doctor discovered the problem. He referred her to a cardiologist, who determined Knight had an anomalous left coronary artery. The condition occurs when the left coronary artery comes out of the pulmonary artery, instead of its usual site of origin, the aorta.

“It’s very serious and very rare,” said Tuttle. “One in every 300,000 children are born with it. They usually catch it before they are 2 years old.”

Tuttle said Knight has again started growing her hair for Locks of Love. She has even persuaded some of her friends to donate their hair.

Capps said more and more children are donating their hair to Locks of Love because awareness is spreading. She said hair donated to Locks of Love must be at least 10 inches long and must not be dyed or permed.

Knight says she doesn’t miss her long hair.

“I like having short hair. It’s easy to brush,” she said.

http://www.goodnewsblog.com/2007/12/10/six-year-old-gives-big-part-of-herself-to-help-kids 

Little Katie Wichman has set out to help right things a bit. The Waverly first-grader, who turns 7 today, has decided to give all of her birthday presents to children at the shelter.

“We were driving home one day and talking about what she wanted for her birthday,” said Katie’s mom, Kelli. “Out of the blue she said she wanted to give toys to other kids.”

Kelli let the idea rest for a couple of days until Katie brought it up again.

“We explained to her what that meant, that whatever was brought to her birthday party she would give away,” Kelli said. “She said, ‘I would give away all my toys to another little girl if I could.’”

Her parents say they were pleasantly surprised.

“It’s very unusual, especially for a child who wants everything when we go to Wal-Mart,” joked Katie’s dad, Eddie.

Katie and her 3-year-old sister Kennedy have no shortage of toys of their own, their parents say. A toy room in their home is brimming with toys. Then there are the toys that fill their bedrooms. They have no need for more, the Wichman’s say.

Katie has invited all of the girls from her class as well as family and friends to her party, which is themed “Pretty in Pink.” She’s asking guests to bring gifts that her family will deliver to the Cedar Valley Friends of the Family shelter.

“It really pulls at your heart strings,” said Marcie Sharp, the organization’s administrative services director.

Cedar Valley Friends of the Family is a private, nonprofit domestic violence and sexual assault prevention center. It serves families from nine Northeast Iowa counties, and offers a 14-bed safe shelter to victims of domestic violence. It also provides services for the homeless.

For the fiscal year 2006-07, the shelter served 70 children ages 17 and younger who were using the safe house for the first time. On occasion, a child is forced to spend their birthday there.

“Sometimes moms can’t afford a gift when they leave the situation they are in, so (from donated toys) the mom will get the pick of whatever she wants for her child,” Sharp said.

Sharp said three other children have donated their birthday booty to the shelter, in the form of cash. Rather than asking for gifts, they asked party guests to bring money to benefit the shelter. Katie’s gifts will come in handy as Christmas approaches. They will fill the gap for families who arrive at the shelter in the few days before Christmas.

“It always amazes me how generous the children are,” sharp said. “It’s pretty remarkable that (Katie) would give up her gifts for someone she doesn’t even know.”

For Katie, it’s not remarkable at all. It’s simple logic. She gives up what she has plenty of to children who don’t. In fact, last year she donated her hair to Locks of Love, which provides wigs for children with cancer or other health issues that cause hair loss. Her reason for giving up her birthday gifts follows the same logic.

“Other people maybe don’t have enough toys,” she said.

http://www.goodnewsblog.com/2007/12/10/7-year-olds-birthday-wish-is-to-donate-her-toys-to-family-shelter

the selection is something to behold
an entire wall of singles
unmatched all facing right
in ocd perfect order
hundreds of bright clean nike swoops
and bouncy red rebooks

one pair for me – size nine –
slip on velcro strapped
white n yellow weave
i love them

kel was looking for slides
two pairs she choose
then worried she was spending too much money
the threat of a multi million dollar law suit
makes one frugal

so i tell all i will meet them by the cashier
off i go
the aisle is long – the store huge
i see the dad first
he is walking toward me
fifty maybe older –
a gleandale fire fighter hat on his head
a t shirt – unfashionable and worn
the man stood out in beverly hills –
he looked like he was from nebraska
he spoke first

“how you doing buddy?” he said smiling
to someone he obviously loved
i heard the answer
before i saw the face it came from
“I am so happy!”
a boy of fourteen – an adorable richie cunningham
his face flush with excitement –
running to his father
“they have my size on sale!!!!”

i passed –
not looking at them –
trying to give them privacy –
yet longing to watch how it played out –
this intimate exchange –
this real moment in the town of tinsel

i took note – spingle – ping –
pure – yes – thank you

at the cashier kel payed
as i looked at the revolving rack of sunglasses
behind me at the customer service counter
I heard
“it is blue with a zipper and orange piping”
the pain in his voice obvious
the red headed boy lost his wallet
i felt my heart crack

the father went looking for it
the happy boy from ten minutes ago
was now a distraught mini man
he looked my way –
i asked where he last had it
he told me – in a quivering voice
he wasn’t sure

this boy did not recognize me

his wallet – had 50 dollars in it
plus a tower records gift certificate
he had gotten for his birthday

putting out my hand to shake his –
i handed him a hundred
the way mobsters do movies
folded up tiny
i snuck it into his palm
before he knew it was happening
happy birthday i said
and walked away

the urge to stay –
attached to the result – was huge
but i did not
i walked out of the store –
knowing in that twenty minute period
i was both the giver and receiver

the vessel – the soul –
the dark and the light –
both things and all
at once

god is real
i have always known this

three weeks later
my agent calls
quincy jones wants to talk to me
why I asked
she didn’t know but assumed –
as did i
it was work related

i called mr jones
he knew the red haired boy
and wanted to find the wallet woman
who looked a lot like me

six degress of kevin bacon
me richie q u

Retired Lt. Col. Bruce Crandall, 74, received the nation’s highest military honor from President Bush in the White House East Room. The medal recognizes Crandall for his valor in repeatedly flying into enemy fire to bring in ammunition and supplies and evacuate the wounded.

Crandall completed 22 flights in a 14-hour period on Nov. 14, 1965, most under intense enemy fire. His actions in the Battle at Ia Drang Valley were depicted in the 2002 movie “We Were Soldiers,” adapted from the book “We Were Soldiers Once … And Young.”

Bush, in his remarks, said Crandall had to fly three different helicopters over the course of the mission. Two were damaged so badly they could not stay in the air.

Yet Crandall and another pilot, Capt. Edward Freeman, “flew through a cloud of smoke and a wave of bullets,” Bush said. They “kept flying until every wounded man had been evacuated and every need of the battalion had been met.” Freeman was awarded the Medal of Honor in 2001.

“To the men of Ia Drang, the image of Major Crandall’s helicopter coming to their rescue is one they will never forget,” Bush said, adding that Crandall’s battalion commander said that without Crandall, the unit almost surely would have been overrun.

Crandall, of Manchester, Wash., did not speak during the 15-minute ceremony, attended by more than 250 people. But Bush quoted from an interview in which Crandall offered his view of the mission:

“There was never a consideration that we would not go into those landing zones. They were my people down there, and they trusted in me to come and get them.”

Crandall told The Associated Press that his unit had “minimum resources” and few administrators to handle the paperwork needed for the highest medals. He received the Distinguished Flying Cross, as well as a Distinguished Service Cross, before being nominated for a Medal of Honor.

An accomplished high school baseball player, Crandall dreamed of playing for the New York Yankees but instead was drafted into the military during the Korean War. Two months after his heroics at Ia Drang, he rescued a dozen wounded men without using search or landing lights during a nighttime battle.

His second tour in Vietnam ended in 1968. He later worked as a city manager in Dunsmuir, Calif., and as public works manager in Mesa, Ariz., and was a consultant in the film version of “We Were Soldiers,” in which he was portrayed by actor Greg Kinnear.

“In men like Bruce Crandall, we really see the best of America,” Bush said. “For the soldiers rescued, for the men who came home, for the children they had and the lives they made, America is in debt to Bruce Crandall.”

Crandall had a less lofty view.

“I’m so proud that I didn’t screw it up,” he said.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/vietnam_valor

The boys, Phillip Forster, 13, and Devin Tonkin, 14, were walking in the area Sunday afternoon when they heard a popping noise and shattered glass, Forster said.

They rounded the corner to see that an explosion had blown out windows, punched a hole in the wall and knocked the north side of the house off its foundation. Circling around the house, they saw Marjorie Forsman standing inside amid the smoke and debris.

They urged Forsman to come outside through the back door.

“I called for her a couple of times, and she didn’t answer,” Tonkin said. “She was just standing there.”

The boys went to the back door and pulled her outside. She wanted to go back into the house to get her coat and purse, but the boys wouldn’t let her.

Instead, Tonkin gave her his coat and both boys helped Forsman down the back steps to safety. Someone driving by allowed her to wait inside their car.

“We got her away from the house,” than ran and asked a neighbor to call 911, the boys said.

Forsman’s son, Jim Forsman, said his mother suffered singed hair, but otherwise “seemed all right,” but was shaken and saddened that family history, photos and mementos were lost in the fire.

Fire Chief Steve Jorgensen said fire crews had to let the fire continue burning until the natural gas could be shut off in order to save neighboring houses from damage.

As leaking natural gas burned in the basement, a contractor dug through the frozen ground to the gas line.

“We didn’t want to extinguish the leak, because then you have a raw gas building and there’s a possibility of another explosion,” Jorgensen said. So firefighters worked to keep the house interior cool and contain the flames inside the house.

During the digging, a gas line outside the house was “nicked” causing another rupture, and a shut-off valve was broken.

Law enforcement officers evacuated nearby residences as a precaution.

It took several hours before repairs could be made and firefighters could completely extinguish the fire, Jorgensen said.

Tonkin said he was happy to help Marjorie Forsman escape.

“I feel good about it,” he said.

Theresa Forster said her son was also elated to have helped save the woman’s life.

“He called me at work, and he was so excited,” she said.

http://www.helenair.com/articles/2007/01/16/montana_top/a06011607_01.txt 

“I hope U crooks enjoy our bikes U stole; Merry X-Mas,” the sign read.

The next evening the couple heard a knock at their door and found an envelope with $200 inside. A pickup truck was driving away.

“Inside was a note that read, ‘For every crook, there are 1,000 good people’,” Dennis Leporin told the Pensacola News Journal.

“I thought it was awesome. We moved here from St. Louis, and folks just don’t do that in St. Louis,” he said.

Tamie Leporin said she and her husband were concentrating so much on the theft that they forgot about the true meaning of Christmas, until they were reminded by the kindness of strangers.

“We just wish there was some way we could thank them,” she said.

http://www.happynews.com/news/12282006/good-samaritan-makes-stolen-bikes.htm