Jimmy  Darts

SB Mowing

Pattie Gonia

Little Miss Flint

Kalina Silverman

Samuel Weidenhofer

Patriotic Kenny Foundation

Ben Saunders

The Dogist

Peter Bond

Amy Jandrisevits

Ask Uncle Jack

That Good News Girl

Tess Bohne

FowlMouthFarmer

Latonja and Taylor Richardson

Officer Richard Craig

Flavor Flav

John Wolfe

Khloe

<div>My name is Ahmed Hamad. I am 42 years old, a father of four wonderful children—two boys and two girls. We used to live in northern Gaza, where I worked hard every day to support my family and give my children a future.
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<div>Everything changed when our home was destroyed in the recent conflict. We were forced to flee and are now living in a tent in central Gaza with no access to basic necessities. We have no stable source of income, no safe shelter, and every day is a struggle to provide food, clean water, and essentials for my children.
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<div>I am reaching out with a humble heart to ask for your support. Your donation can help us find shelter, provide food and clothing for my children, and take a small step toward rebuilding our lives. Every contribution, no matter how small, makes a difference.
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<div>Please consider helping us in this time of need. Thank you for your kindness and generosity.
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<div>Note:
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<div>All your donations will be used exclusively to provide food, water, and shelter for my family. The funds will not be used for any other purposes.
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Help Ahmed and His Family Survive in Gaza

<div>Hello dear family and friends, 


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<div>So with a very sad and unbelievably heavy heart I am setting up this Go-Fund-Me page instead of eating Sunday dinner with my family. I know many of you already know what is going on via my recent social media posts, but if in fact you have not heard about what has happened to our family, allow me to fill you in with the short version. 


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<div>Early Friday (6/20/25) morning around 6:15am Carlos was heading to work and he probably made it about 50-60 feet from our apartment when he was pulled over by three ICE cruisers (no local police were involved in the stop) so that tells you this was not a routine traffic stop but rather a premeditated stop. One of the agents approached Carlos' car and asked him to confirm his identity. Carlos' was not read rights or even offered a translator. He was just snatched off the street and taken to their Malta processing center. I quickly followed his location tracker on his phone and was only minutes behind him but when I arrived they would not allow me to see him, talk to him or even hug him, as they were treating him as if he were a criminal. By 5pm on Friday evening they had shipped my baby off to the detention center without so much as a call from any type of official to let me know anything and even still as I type this I have no idea what is going on with him or if he is even ok. I am heartbroken. I am traumatized. His entire family and I are in agony not knowing where Carlos is or what is happening. Onve Carlos is processed in the Detention Center he will be issued an "A number" and then I will be able to set him up an account to where he will have access to be able to use the phone. The phone calls are very expensive as they contract with private communication companies like Telmate where calls within NYS cost 7 cents per minute and out of state and international calls are 15 cents per minute. They charge additional fees just to add money to the account such as $5 for every $25 added. The rates are subject to change whenever the company decides but it adds up very quickly... and I know this all to well because unfortunately I have already been through this experience with my youngest daughters father who ultimately ended up getting deported back to the Dominican Republic in October of 2020. My children and I have already suffered enough. I am not creating this page looking for a handout. Quite a few of you have been reaching out to me privately to let me know that y'all wanted to be able to help monetarily. I have a very hard time asking for help so this has not come easy but I have people who are depending on me and being as I am a full time student at HVCC right now I have been full dependent upon Carlos' income. I do not have any clue as to when Carlos will be released. His lawyer told me to prepare for at least six weeks as the process is very lengthy to file for a termination of the case and then if that's denied, she will have to file for a bond. He told me that he does have a court date for July 11th but that is all I know at this point. I'm not asking for anything my friends except continued prayers but if the few of you that really feel compelled to want to help out monetarily still feel like that's your way of contributing, then here you go, but truly from the bottom of my heart, please do not feel pressure to give ANYTHING. I love my community. We are mighty together... you all keep showing up for me and I've never felt more supported in my life! I love you all and may the favor of the Lord rest upon each and every single one of you! 


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<div>Love, love, love, Venus Santiago


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Help Carlos Tavares Reunite with His Family

<div><strong>UPDATE</strong> 3/12/25: Emine Emanet has been released from the ICE detention center tonight, after 10 days of detention, and is reunited with her family! Thank you to everyone for your donations, prayers &amp; kind words. While the family still has a long fight ahead of them, your support has lifted them up.❤️
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<div>I’ve been asked by the Emanet family to set up a GoFundMe to help cover legal fees and support income while Jersey Kebab remains closed.
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<div>During the morning hours of Tuesday, February 25, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) warrantlessly picked up members of the Emanet family, Celal and Emine Emanet, from Jersey Kebab, located at 150 Haddon Avenue, Haddon Township, NJ 08108.
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<div>The Emanet family has an open case with United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) and has been waiting since 2016 for a decision on their case. USCIS has not decided whether to approve or deny their green card application for the past 9 years. While waiting for their case to be decided upon, Celal and Emine Emanet were left without a status.
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<div>They are contributing members of society and taxpayers with a five-year valid business license. Celal and Emine own and operate Jersey Kebab, a beloved Mediterranean restaurant across from the Haddon Township Municipality and Police building. The husband-and-wife pair own and manage the restaurant together, a hub for the community, and regularly feed underprivileged members of the community - the sign on the door stating, “Free to anyone with a disability, homeless, or simply cannot afford it.” The couple start prep work together at 9 am and close up shop at 8:30 pm.
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<div>At the end of the night, Celal and Emine come back home where they live with their four children (Muhammed, Zeynep, Hamza, Hale), daughter-in-law (Sabina), two grandchildren (Ali and Omer), and two cats (Oreo and Almond). Muhammed (25), the manager at Jersey Kebab, who attended Rutgers-Camden, is a husband and father to two children. Zeynep (23) is a Swarthmore College graduate and works at a local civil rights nonprofit organization. Their younger son, Hamza (15), and younger daughter, Hale (13), cannot imagine life without mom and dad together.
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<div>While Celal has been released from custody with an ankle monitor, Emine has been placed into the Elizabeth Detention Center in Elizabeth, New Jersey, awaiting her bond trial. This situation is especially devastating for their 15-year-old son, Hamza, who has autism.
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<div>Deporting Emine would cause Hamza immense distress, as he only speaks limited Turkish and relies on the specialized services available to him here in New Jersey. Uprooting him from this support system would have severe consequences for his well-being.
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<div>Emine is not a flight risk - she is a mother, community member, and neighbor. Neither Celal nor Emine have criminal records or prior orders of removal by an immigration judge. She needs to be released on bond so she can return home. Until she is released, the restaurant, which is their main source of income, is closed. <strong>So please help out any way you can.</strong>
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Stand by JERSEY KEBAB & the Emanet Family

<div>On Saturday, February 22nd, citizens gathered at a town hall in Kootenai County, Idaho, to speak with elected members of the Idaho Legislature about important issues affecting their community. What should have been a peaceful and productive event, where people exercised their right to voice their concerns, quickly turned into a violation of Dr. Teresa Borrenpohl’s constitutional rights.
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<div>In a shocking and unlawful turn of events, Dr. Borrenpohl was detained by an unmarked paramilitary squad—an unknown and unnamed group of individuals with no clear authority or justification for their actions. What’s even more alarming is that the local sheriff, who, instead of protecting Dr. Borrenpohl, stood by and filmed the incident on his phone after encouraging her violent removal.
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<div>This detainment wasn’t just an unfortunate moment—it was an illegal violation of Dr. Borrenpohl’s rights. She was denied her freedom of assembly, her freedom of speech, and most importantly, her right to be free from unlawful detention. This is not just an isolated event; it is a chilling reminder that, even in the United States, our civil liberties can be stripped away without warning.
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<div>Dr. Borrenpohl is now taking a stand to ensure this injustice does not go unchecked. She is committed to holding those responsible accountable and fighting for the protection of our fundamental rights. But to do so, she needs your help.
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<div>The legal costs to defend her rights and to ensure that no one else suffers a similar fate are significant. Dr. Borrenpohl is seeking funds to retain a skilled lawyer who can help her navigate this complex situation, challenge this unlawful detention, and protect citizens from future violations of their rights.
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<div>No American should fear being carted away by an unnamed paramilitary force without cause. The protection of our freedoms—freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and the right to be free from unlawful detention—should never be taken for granted. Dr. Borrenpohl is not just fighting for herself; she is fighting for every one of us.
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<div>Please consider donating to help Dr. Borrenpohl retain legal counsel and ensure that this injustice is properly addressed. Your support is crucial in defending our rights and ensuring that justice prevails.
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<div>Thank you for standing with Dr. Borrenpohl, for the protection of our civil liberties, and for the preservation of justice in America. Every contribution, no matter the size, will make a meaningful difference in this fight.
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<div>Let’s stand together and ensure that no one’s rights are taken away without consequence.
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Justice for Dr. Teresa Borrenpohl: Fight for the First

<div>Long hard tragic journey

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<div>in Memory of Maya

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<div>It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I share the story of my beloved daughter, Maya. Maya had a long and difficult journey in life, but she was a truly beautiful soul with a heart of gold, an incredible sense of humor, and a sharp, intelligent mind.

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<div>Despite her many challenges, including struggles with mental health and addiction, Maya was a fighter. She worked so hard to overcome her demons and was clean for 11 months. Tragically, during this time, Maya experienced an unbearable loss the sudden passing of her stepfather, whom she loved deeply. They were going through a difficult time and hadn’t spoken before his passing. The guilt and grief overwhelmed her, leading to a relapse that would change her life forever.

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<div>On May 6, 2024, Maya was found unconscious after overdosing and laying on her arm for two days. She was rushed to the hospital and placed on life support. The ordeal left her with severe complications, including the loss of her right arm below the elbow and a host of other medical issues. She was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver, Crohn’s disease, a bowel obstruction, and severe malnutrition.

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<div>Over the past seven months, Maya faced numerous hospital stays and time in rehabilitation facilities. Her condition made it nearly impossible to stay in rehab, as her complex medical needs couldn’t be adequately met. She fought valiantly, even as her body weakened. Surgery to address her bowel obstruction had to be postponed as she worked to improve her nutrition, but before it could happen, Maya developed pneumonia.

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<div>The pneumonia caused severe damage to her lungs, and her condition rapidly worsened. She was placed in an induced coma and put on life support, but her lungs and muscles deteriorated further. Her living will clearly stated that if it became apparent her death was imminent and her suffering prolonged, she did not wish to be kept alive artificially.

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<div>As a family, we made the heart-wrenching decision to honor her wishes. Maya passed away peacefully, free from pain and surrounded by love.

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<div>This has been a devastating and unexpected loss for all of us. We truly believed she would overcome this, but her body had endured too much. Now, we are asking for your help to give Maya the farewell she deserves. We need assistance with the cost of her cremation, an urn for her ashes, and a celebration of her life.

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<div>Maya was deeply loved and cared for by so many people. Any donation, no matter how small, would mean the world to us and help us honor her memory in the way she deserves.

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<div>Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your support during this incredibly difficult time.

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A Loving Goodbye for Maya

<div><em>For our dad Jason Dame</em>
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<div>Dear Friends and Community,
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<div>I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart and a humble request. Our dad was diagnosed with stage 4 colorectal cancer in October and since then he has significantly declined and is now in hospice care. As we prepare for the inevitable, we are faced with the daunting reality of funeral expenses that we are not financially prepared for.
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<div>Our dad has always been a source of strength and love for our family. He has touched the lives of many with his kindness, generosity, and unwavering spirit. Throughout his illness, he has shown incredible courage and resilience, but the time has come for us to prepare for his final journey.
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<div>We are asking for your support to help cover the costs of his funeral and memorial services. Any contribution, no matter how small, will make a significant difference and will be deeply appreciated by our family during this difficult time.
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<div>Thank you for your kindness, compassion, and support.
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<div>With gratitude,
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<div>The Dame family
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Assist the Dame Family in Their Time of Need

<p>On behalf of Michae,l Zoe,  MacKenzie, and his grandchildren Myla, Estella, Alaura and Dru.  I am hoping to lessen the financial burden of the loss of their father Eddie Fernet . On August 16, Ed gained his wings. 
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<p>I am having a hard time finding the words to express the heartache and loss so many of us are experiencing right now as we lost a LEGEND . 
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<p>For those that have had the pleasure of knowing this beautiful soul, please share this 
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<p>All proceeds will be going to his son Michael 
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Eddie Fernet

<span style="font-size:17px;">On Dec 24th , Timmy aka Slim was found unresponsive at his home. He is currently at Samaritan in the ICU.  At the very moment, we are unsure what the outcome is going to be. MY PRAYER WARRIORS, PLEASE SAY A PRAYER FOR TIMMY</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:17px;">Slim has 5 children, 4 currently still living at home .  As most, if not all of you know,  Timmy loves his family and he is family to me. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:17px;">Tim Sylvester, Eddie Fernet and I want to ensure financially that the kids have food,  transportation etc for them as Slim was the sole provider for his family  . He had recently lost his job was without a vehicle. With Timmy not having any type of life insurance,  we just want to do our best to lessen any financial burdens</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:17px;">We are not sure what the outcome will be for Slim, but one thing for sure Slim is loved by many and right now he needs our help</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:17px;">Please share</span>

We love you Slim

<div>This GoFund me will be used to build a financial cushion for my adopted Daughter Shariya Small (now 18!) and her now 4 year old triplets Serenitee, Samari, and Sarayah (how are they this big already?!?) Our adoption story has gained national attention over the last year and a half and what an adventure it has been! I would like to set her and the Triplets up for their future and adventures in life as she grows into a strong woman and mother ❤️ funds are being used for current family needs (there are 9 of us in the home including me, the boys, Shariya and the triplets!), college funding for Shariya (she has completed a year of college already!), future housing costs and needs for her and the triplets when they are ready to live on their own later on.
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<div>thank you so much for the outpouring of love and support for our BIG family❤️
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<div>Donate here or on Venmo 
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<div>@Katrina-Mullen-1
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<div><a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2023/03/10/indianapolis-nurse-preemie-triplets-adopts-teen-mother/11439137002/?gnt-cfr=1" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"><a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2023/03/10/indianapolis-nurse-preemie-triplets-adopts-teen-mother/11439137002/?gnt-cfr=1" target="_blank" class="" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer">https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2023/03/10/indianapolis-nurse-preemie-triplets-adopts-teen-mother/11439137002/?gnt-cfr=1</a></a>
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Katrina Mullen, Shariya Small and her Triplets

<div>Hello Everyone!!!
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<div>3/17/23
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<div>I wanted to inform you that Scott is home and resting comfortably with hospice and myself caring for him. Unfortunately this is an extremely aggressive form of cancer and Scott is quickly losing his fight. 
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<div>I will keep this gofundme  donation page open and also I have set up a venmo meganmichelle@hippiefunland .... with help from some friends we will keep Hippiefunland alive. 
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<div>Thanks in advance. One love, Ryelovinbread, and to infinity and beyond!
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<div>&lt;3 Megan and Scott
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Support Scott Guiton in his battle with Cancer

<div>Forgive me as I've never been good at asking for help, but this is bigger than me and I need help to find my baby! Asking for assistance with flights to San Diego, help to cover boarding costs, and other resources to help find her. 
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<div>Edit: 12/1/21 - Raising the goal because as long as we have the support, we will stay and search for our Sunshine. It's so hard to walk away empty handed... I just can't do it. 
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<div>Edit: 12/4/21 - She's safe!!! We're no longer asking for donations! The campaign will remain open for now those who wanted to donate to her of free will for anything she may need.  
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Lateche Norris Found Safe!

<div>Hi, my name it’s Jacob and I’m 5 years old

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<div>In June 2021 after multiple visits to the ER and after being misdiagnosed (due to a radiologist malpractice) for a few months I was finally diagnosed with a very rare brain tumor 
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<div><span> (only 100 case a year ).I </span><span>was immediately admitted to the children’s Hospital and was scheduled to get  the “most aggressive” surgery  to remove the tumor but after reviewing the MRI one of the doctors suggested that we seek a second opinion at </span>
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<div><span>St Jude children’s research hospital in TN and all my records were sent over and reviewed by the tumor board  I was “accepted” and got a less aggressive treatment plan. </span><span>The tumor have destroy  my pituitary gland and left me with so many health complications I have Adrenal Insufficiency, Diabetes Insipidus and I need hormonal replacement for life. We  have a very long road with many uncertainties ahead of us. I have to travel back and forth to St Jude and even though almost everything it’s covered there’s still a lot of things that needs to be paid. With time away from work this as put a financially stain in us and bills are piling up. Every donation given it’s absolutely appreciated. We also ask for prayers for healing and strength during this very difficult time.</span>
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<div>Hola mi nombre es Jacob y tengo 5 años<br />En junio de 2021 después de múltiples visitas a la sala de emergencias  y después de haber sido diagnosticado erróneamente (por negligencia médica) durante unos meses, finalmente me diagnosticaron un tumor cerebral raro, fui ingresado inmediatamente en el Hospital Infantil y fui programado para la cirugía más agresiva y con más daños colaterales para extirpar el tumor. Era casi seguro que iba a perder la vista junto con tantas otras cosas. Después de revisar la resonancia magnética, uno de los médicos sugirió que buscáramos una segunda opinión en el hospital de investigación infantil de St Jude y todos mis registros fueron enviados y revisados por la junta tumoral y fui "aceptado" y me dieron un plan médico mucho mejor 
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<div> El tumor destruyó mi glándula maestra  y me dejó con muchas complicaciones de salud tengo insuficiencia adrenal, diabetes insípida y necesito un reemplazo hormonal de por vida. Todavía tenemos un camino muy largo con muchas incertidumbres por delante. Tengo que viajar de ida y vuelta a San Jude aunque casi todo esta  cubierto, todavía hay muchas cosas por pagar que con tiempo fuera de trabajo los pagos se van acumulando cualquier ayuda es muy agradecida. También pedimos de sus oraciones durante estos momentos tan difíciles. Por favor ayúdame a compartir! 
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Help Jacob fight a brain tumor

On Thursday, September 6, the Baker family lost their home and their possessions in a house fire. Jim, his wife Sherry, and his 90 year old mother all resided in the house. Jim sustained 2nd degree burns to his head, face, and arms.<br /><br />Jim recently retired from his long-time position at the Regional Food Bank, where he helped people in need for over 20 years. <br /><br />Please help Jim and his family get back on their feet!<br /><br />PS- You may have noticed this fundraiser was created by Friends of the Bakers on behalf of Sarah Ryan. Since Jim isn't very computer savvy, his daughter, Sarah, is acting as the liaison to accept the withdrawals! Please email Bethany Moxey at <a href="mailto:[email redacted]">[email redacted] </a>with any questions or concerns!

Baker House Fire Recovery Fund

Hello my name is Danielle Gaston, I am 31 years old and live in Schenectady, NY. I was recently diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer.  I served in our military the Army from 2003-2005.  I was most recently working as a Title Clerk for Destination Kia in Albany NY, they let me go just this past Saturday telling me that I have to take care of my medical issues and whether I am sick or healthy it is a business, and business must go on as usual. I am in desperate need for support in this awful time. I am already struggling trying to pay for the first medication of many to come. I recently participated in the Fight against Breast Cancer walk that took place in Washington Park. <br /><br />The he plan for my treatment is a lumpectomy followed by radiation and chemotherapy. Since the " wonderful" people at Destination Kia let me go, my insurance is set to cancel on November 14.  I normally wouldn't ask for help, but I need to swallow my pride and ask. <br />I thank everyone in advance for their support and generosity in these very trying times. I am a fighter and I will beat this. I will keep everyone posted on the latest.<br /><br />again thank you all for everything.

Danielle's Breast Cancer Fund

Below is what running this year's Boston Marathon means to me...<br /><br /><strong>"I Remember"</strong><br /><br />I remember my first race as a child "“ The Cohoes Turkey Trot, Thanksgiving Day morning.  I was maybe 10 or 11.  I remember it being cold and my skinny little legs were frozen.  I have never really been a runner but my father has been one his whole life.  To this day he'll run a few miles every morning before work regardless of the weather; for him it is a necessity that keeps him together.<br /><br />I remember him always coming back from a run, stretching out, and doing sit-ups.  I remember laying down right next to him and doing sit-ups myself, wedging my legs underneath the coffee table in the living room the way he would for stability (cheater).  As a little boy whatever your dad does, you want to do.  He used to run so I wanted to run.  I finally had my chance.<br /><br />I remember lining up at the starting line with the others "“ maybe there were twenty or thirty of us.  I was nervous as hell.  There were zombies everywhere (that's not factually accurate but my editor said nobody gives a shit these days unless zombies are involved).  Most of the parents were right up there at the start doing all of the annoying shit parents do when their special little athlete is about to burst into action (ugh!).  LeRoy played it cool though.  A moment later we were off:<br /><br />I remember staying in front with whoever was leading just to make sure I was safe.  Right turn here, up this hill, down that hill, dodge the pothole, my lungs are now freezing!  I remember taking a wrong turn because many of the idiot parents were running alongside their kids screaming and yelling directions "“ most of which incorrect.  I remember sprinting to get back on track.<br /><br />Before the last turn and the final stretch, I remember one of the fathers yelling, "Now's your chance Ashley, now's your chance, go to the front!  You can do it, go to the front now!"<br /><br />YEAH RIGHT ASHLEY!  Second prize = turkey, gravy, and you're doing dishes!  I remember running like hell and crossing the finish line before everyone else.  I remember the trophy they gave me and how awesome I felt.  I remember my prize looking back at me from the dinner table in the spot where all of the adults had rested a wine glass at theirs.  Wish I still had that one.<br /><br />Once I was a big boy and could run with Dad it was onto the Troy Turkey Trot 5K.  To this day it is truly one of my favorite days of the year "“ I don't think we've missed one together in ten or fifteen years.<br /><br />But our memories can bring us back home to emotions of all sorts.  As I write this, I recall my most recent defeat.  It seemed like a small defeat at the time but as I think of it now I realize how much some of the little things can actually mean.  The Managing Director of our charitable foundation sent an email out to the firm to see who would be interested in volunteering for the Boston Marathon this year. A tremendous honor and opportunity for many to me marked the reality of an opportunity lost.  Another promise unfulfilled.  A disappointment I was sure I'd find a way to justify.  The volunteer email meant there would be no bib email.<br /><br />I remember tax day last year.  Tax day happened to fall on Patriots' Day in Massachusetts giving us an extra day to file our taxes (or in many cases file for an extension to do our taxes "“ get on it people).  It is a holiday for us in Mass., one of the most amazing days of the year if you've ever been to Boston for it.  It is Marathon Monday.  Our office is closed in the Hancock Tower since the streets surrounding us are a block from the finish line and host the family waiting areas, medical tents, and refreshment tables "“ a bit of a sanctuary for runners who have just completed their journey.  No day off for me that day though, I was at the office catching up on work.<br /><br />I remember picking up my head at the sound of the cannon going off.  It shook our building "“ I remember thinking, "That's interesting.  Men's Elite runner must have crossed the finish line."  Head back down.  It seemed almost instant:a second blast; again shaking our building.  "Wait, we don't shoot off cannons in the city and the Elite Runners would've finished hours ago.  WTF?!"<br /><br />I remember walking to the corner office where I was met by the hand full of others who were working that day as well.  As we looked down at Boylston St we could see the rising clouds of smoke.  There was a frantic element to the normal chaos below but from nineteen floors up we could not quite figure much out.  We could see some things, yet at the same time we could not quite see anything.  I remember being anxious.  This was a new experience.  We each went somewhere for a laptop, a television, our phones; CNN, Twitter, NESN  "“ anyplace that could provide instant answers and perhaps direction, but there was nothing yet.  Sometimes, in moments like these, nothing comes instantaneously.  After a while, we decided that remaining in the building was no longer wise.  When I got to the ground floor there was only one way to exit.  When I stepped out onto the street there was only one direction to walk.<br /><br />I remember making calls to those who I knew would worry once the news broke to assure them I was fine and was heading home.  I know I startled and worried each of the people I spoke with as I was their first messenger of something likely terrible occurring at that moment.  I certainly felt frustrated at my inability to give them any answers but at the end of the call at least they knew I was fine.  I arrived home and remained glued to the television, answering calls when they came through, sending texts, replying to emails.  Perhaps you remember how the rest of that day unfolded for you.<br /><br />I remember my alarm going off the next morning.  I hadn't been sleeping so that was instead my indication to get out of bed.  I was going to shower, put my suit on, and walk to the office "“ there wasn't even a question.  I remember the eerie silence as I walked through the South End to the Back Bay, and ultimately back to the Hancock Tower.  Much of the Back Bay had been closed off as an active crime scene but our building remained open.  The morning work traffic had been replaced by military traffic it seemed.  I remember Humvees and camouflage, walky talkies and assault rifles, blocked off streets, and increased scrutiny with each step.  I remember entering our building and upon passing through security taking a deep breath.  This is not Tuesday.<br /><br />I remember again looking down through the windows at the scene below.  It seemed almost as chaotic as yesterday yet there were no people today.  With an active crime scene and investigation underway and with the city's resources focused elsewhere nothing had been touched here in this one-time sanctuary.  Life had been evacuated and its things had been left to lie.  After yesterday's al fresco diners had leapt to their feet mid-meal to flee the danger, and their wait staff had been evacuated, their lunches and their drinks remained where they were last touched - for days - perhaps hoping their diners would return to finish them.  The streets did not get immediately cleaned. The tents and scaffold did not get immediately broken down and removed.  Residents were not allowed to return to their homes.  I remember how our city's most vibrant area had become a complete dead-zone.  I remember the silence walking along the barriers alone at lunchtime "“ a silence I had never heard while living in the city.  A silence interrupted only by a faint police siren racing somewhere blocks away.  A silence in our city I hope to never find myself walking through again.<br /><br />I remember what listening to the radio was like that week.  I remember what turning on the television brought.  I remember what going onto the internet was like.  I remember going home at the end of the week and seeing friends and family; and the look on their face as they wanted so much to know what it was like in Boston but were so careful and hesitant to ask.  Maybe they were also reading my face.  <br /><br />I remember the President coming to speak at the church on my street just a few blocks away.  I remember the Secret Service needing to sweep our building and roof deck.  They shut down traffic to Washington St the morning of so when I left home for work at 7:00 am on the 18th and decided I'd walk by on my way to the office there wasn't a car on the road or another person on the street.  As I came around the bend and the church came into view before me were lines of Police in their all-black uniforms marching up and down the street.  One of the oldest and most beautiful churches in Boston was now outfitted unnaturally with modern metal detectors.  I had friends attending that service because we had friends caught in the explosions.  I just wanted to see and to be a part.  I remember taking what I though was a great picture with my phone but that was two phones ago.<br /><br />Yet I also remember feeling strong.  I remember how determined I was to carry on.  I remember how confident I felt that we would catch whoever was responsible for this.  I remember friends setting up fundraisers online to help support loved ones who were in the midst of fighting for their lives.  I remember the Boston Bruins game two days after the Marathon when after Rene Rancourt started off the national anthem, the crowd then picked up and sang together as one.  I remember being proud of all those first responders be they policemen, firefighters, first aid, volunteers, runners, or spectators who helped those who could not help themselves on that day.  I remember how our city came together as the week drew on and we drew closer to this event's conclusion.<br /><br />Soon after, the city began opening some of the streets that had been shuddered.  There were less and less soldiers and more and more civilians - people.  Each day more blocks would become accessible.  Flowers and candles would be the start of tiny memorials in places near the event where someone felt appropriate.  People would bring chalk and write notes on the street "“ notes to a friend or loved one, notes to Boston, sincere prayers, and even words of encouragement.<br /><br />Once Boylston St finally reopened and we could again return to where this tragic event occurred, we would see all of these memorials brought together into one.  Thousands would write notes on their running shoes, and then tie them to the fences and trees surrounding the memorial.  Children would come with their parents and leave behind their teddy bears with a note to the eight year old that lost his life.  One bear in particular held a sign that read, "No more hurting people."  Marathoners would return and so would their families.  <br /><br />What also arrives is the reality of the true devastation from that afternoon.  A devastation that would have a profound effect on those most directly touched by the tragedy.  I remember a lot from that day and the days that followed.  But my memories do not matter as much as those of the families of the three individuals who were killed in the bombing.  My memories are not nearly as dear as those of the family of the MIT officer killed while on duty; nor those of the friends and families of the others injured on that day.<br /><br />I remember walking down Boylston St myself the morning it was reopened.  I remember approaching the finish line which is close to where the first bomb went off.  People had returned to come and see, and pay their respects as I did.  All of the debris had been cleaned up, the stains of that day had been washed away, and the damage partly repaired.  Much of the silence had remained on that first day though.  I remember so distinctly the faces of everyone who returned with me to see.  I can see them now.  I remember feeling connected with them yet recall being so careful not to make eye contact with anyone.  I can remember as I approached how difficult it had become to keep it together.  How my vision became a blur as I fought unsuccessfully to keep the tears back.  I must have been thinking that if I could avoid eye contact with someone else that was there and feeling the same things I was feeling, perhaps I could keep it together.  How foolish.<br /><br />I continued walking down Boylston and as I did I remembered my first few experiences in Boston on Marathon Monday.  My friends and I would gather at a bar called Vox Populi on that same street.  Friends of ours had worked there so for two or three years that is where we would spend our day.  I remember drinking Cape Coders outside where they had a little area cordoned off, watching the runners so excited that they could see the finish.  A few years later we had moved on from that spot.  Vox closed its doors subsequently and was replaced by Forum "“ a fact that had completely escaped me this past week until I approached the second gathering of people paying their respects.  Directly in front of Forum and its outdoor dining area was a newly planted tree "“ only two or three steps from where I had so many great memories.  This was where the second explosion had occurred.<br /><br />On my way back to the office I remember saying to myself "“ this coming year I would run the marathon.  I would get the physical therapy I had put off.  I would address my lingering injuries.  I would go to yoga.  I would get back in shape.  I went to office where Rich sits and told him "“ if we can get a bib next year for the marathon I will run for the foundation.  I mean it.<br /><br />I meant it.  I had thrown around the idea of running many times but things would get in the way.  The snow.  My excuses.  How I worked too much.  My back (poor me).  Why can't they hold it in the fall?  I don't have time.  I like exercising but I don't want to run that much.  I don't have anything to prove.  It's dark when I leave work and it's dangerous to run in the dark.  You can't train for a marathon on a treadmill.  I don't want to run before work because I'll get to the office too late.  I'm getting older "“ I should've done it closer to when I graduated.  Life.  Life always happens.  It's happening right now.  It certainly happened a lot in the past 11 months.  I look at myself now and think about my life 11 months ago and I feel like I stumbled through a worm hole.  I hope The Cosmos goes over that one soon because I could use a refresher.<br /><br />A week after the marathon turned into a month, which turned into summer.  The fall seems to always be so busy and we know what's right around the corner from fall.  So much to do yet so little time.  So many distractions.  Train for the marathon?  I remember thinking about it on my way back to NY for Thanksgiving as I got excited about the Turkey Trot again.  I remember it seemed like forever since I had even thought about it.  Had I even gone to PT?  Once?  I had been going to yoga.  I was so thankful for yoga "“ I probably said it out loud in my car.  If you know me you're probably sick of hearing about it.  I was feeling good though and thought, "This needs to be the year."  We'll see - I have a lot going on right now.<br /><br />The next thing I remember was the volunteer email at the end of January and that sinking feeling of disappointment.  My reply to Rich was, "I guess if I can't run it I can volunteer."<br /><br />His response back, "It might still be a possibility for you.  It is in the works.  Train. Train. Train."<br /><br />That was all I needed to hear.  I immediately found a training program, skipped ahead eight weeks, and the next day I was running around the Esplanade with my arch nemesis Polar Vortex.<br /><br />It would be another seven weeks before I officially overcame my recent defeat receiving word that we had been given one of the last remaining invitations available.  I remember the emotions I felt one week ago as I looked up from my screens and saw Rich standing at my door with two thumbs up - instant excitement.  The happy sensation of victory accompanied by a swell of emotion.  Validation that my time running through the rain and snow and blistering wind, through the soreness of in my legs, the swelling of my knee, that hamstring muscle that was either going to snap off my leg or send me to the looney bin with every step just thinking that it might: was to be for my ultimate date with this year's Boston Marathon.<br /><br />You learn a lot about yourself when you're training for a marathon "“ especially in the Northeast, especially during the winter.  And in my seven weeks of training where I did not yet have an invitation to run, when all I had was the desire to be in training and to once again be connected to the community I love I learned what the Boston Marathon meant to me.  On days when I was convinced we would not get our bib, I remembered the Ayn Rand quote I posted above my laptop "“ and I would continue running.  When I was frustrated with this injury or that, I would remember how grateful I was that I was even physically able to run "“ a blessing that not everyone who was part of last year's events has.  This is why I am running the Marathon.<br /><br />I am running the Boston Marathon for those who lost their lives last year.  I am running for those who were physically and mentally harmed by the two blasts on Patriots' Day.  I am running for the families whose memories are all they have now.  I am running for Boston.  I am running for our community because we are strong.  I am running for me because I am strong.  And I will always remember.<br /><br /><strong>Your generous gift to our charity...<br /><br /></strong>Would mean the world to me.<br /><br />Is 100% tax deductible as our foundation is a registered 501(c)(3) organization.  I will personally send you your tax documentation.<br /><br />A portion of which will be directed to the <strong>American Red Cross</strong> in honor of the victims of last years Boston Marathon.  This is an organization that provided not only support for families this past year but whose work saved lives in the hours and days following that tragic event.<br /><br />The balance of your gifts will be directed by The Baystate Financial Charitable Foundation.  They are dedicated to supporting community-based children's causes in Greater Boston and throughout New England.  You can learn more at their website...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.baystatefoundation.org/"><a href="http://www.baystatefoundation.org" target="_blank" class="" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer">http://www.baystatefoundation.org</a></a>

My Boston Marathon 2014

Baystate Financial Charitable Foundation

Jessica Baldwin

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