My name is Phillip. My sons are nine and twelve years old, and they still
believe their dad can fix anything. Everything I am doing right now is to make sure they never find out what it feels like when he can't.
I need to be honest about how we got here, because this is not a story about recklessness, and it is not a story about giving up. It is a story about one thing going catastrophically wrong at the worst possible moment — and then a chain of events that no family could have planned around.
In September 2025, after twenty years in enterprise sales, I was laid off. I did not sit still. I worked every lead I could find, and when the market kept pushing back, I enrolled in a Management Information Systems degree with an AI concentration so I would come out the other side stronger and more employable.
I kept interviewing. I kept applying. I did everything you are supposed to do. Then it compounded. Our landlord — a corporate, private-equity-backed operator — moved to evict us.
On May 8th it happened: my wife, our two boys, and I lost our home. Meanwhile a few months ago, our truck broke down (which was no coincidence either i might add)— happy to share that part with you in a private message or conversation if you are curious to know how that occurred — the one vehicle we own, our only way to get the kids to school, to get me to interviews, to get anywhere — suffered a major mechanical failure. The transmission and the steering system both went. The repair quote is $13,175.
So here is where we actually are tonight.
The four of us are living in a rental car. It costs $350 every week — money we do not have and cannot sustain. Our truck is sitting at a dealership service shop, and we have roughly two weeks before it is towed and stored, after which getting it back becomes a far harder and more expensive problem. I want to be clear about what we have already done, because we have not been waiting to be rescued.
I have personally contacted more than one hundred organizations, churches, nonprofits, and government agencies.
I have filled out the forms, made the calls, and sat on the holds. None have been able to help in the way a family in our exact situation needs. And I am still job hunting every single day, with an active pipeline of real opportunities. We are doing the work. We have simply run out of runway before the work has had time to land.
This fundraiser exists to close that gap. Here is exactly where every dollar goes:
$13,175 — Truck repair. This is the priority. Our truck is our
transportation, my way to interviews, and the backbone of getting our family stable again.
If the truck cannot be saved in time — a camper trailer ($10,000–$12,000) or a used motorhome (around $16-20,000) that would serve as both our transportation and a roof over our children, getting us out of a rental car and into something safe while I finish closing out a job.
The bridge — every week in the rental car costs $350. Reaching our goal is what stops that bleed and gets us off the street.
So far, 43 people have given $2,919. I know what each of those gifts cost the people who made them, and I will not pretend it hasn't kept us going — it has. But we are still short, and the clock on the truck is real.
If you can give, anything helps, and I mean that. If you cannot give, sharing this is worth just as much. Share it with one person. That one share is how a stranger becomes the neighbor who helps get a family of four off the street and back on their feet.
My boys still believe their dad can fix anything. With your help, I intend to prove them right.
— Phillip
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