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Home is where the Hart is

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February 26, 2014, I watched 17 years of my life be thrown away infront of me on a 3 day eviction notice during my senior year. With no money to be spent, my parents and I moved into my grandparents townhome, where my brother had been staying for the past year, but the very next day we were served with the foreclosure papers on that home too. My dad, a right handed self employed painter, became disabled in 2008 when the disks in his upper cervical compressed and severed the nerves in his spinal cord which left him with no use of his right hand. He has only gone down hill from there. Since then he has been diagnosed with hepatitis C, rheumatoid arthritis, and after two neck surgeries to try and save his hand, a third is inoperable on his now crumbling spinal cord. In the midst of all this, my mom was diagnosed with retina cancer, a one in one million chance. Radiation seems to have worked, but the effects are blindness within the first two years in the eye obtaining the cancer, and also impaired vision in the other eye that may have been effected negatively by the radiation. Now, 349 days after the eviction of the place I called home for 17 years, we go to court to receive the eviction date of our temporary home; except this time there is no plan B, no backup home, no home for our four cats or three dogs, no anything. Although I've been working and paying my own way since I was 12, this is one thing I'm not able to help my family with and it breaks my heart to see them struggle and to see everything they've ever worked for be taken from them. The morning of September 3, 2016, I received a phone call from my mom. She was downstairs, heard large booms, and then Mitch screaming. She left out through the patio door to find his bedroom engulfed in flames. More than 3/4 of our belongings and all of our furniture minus my bed were in that home. Our four cats. My second car. The fire spread so rapidly that everything was GONE. With that home being in foreclosure, we had no insurance. I can't believe that this happened. My poor kitties. My poor mom. This life is like a bad nightmare that keeps on going. With that being said, keep us in your thoughts and prayers please. I have no idea what we are going to do..
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Donations 

  • Tommy Rymus
    • $25 
    • 8 yrs
  • Anonymous
    • $25 (Offline)
    • 9 yrs
  • Anonymous
    • $200 (Offline)
    • 9 yrs
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Organizer

Dominica Hart
Organizer
New Lenox, IL

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