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Raleigh, North Carolina, 1858.A baby girl was born into slavery. Her mother, Hannah Stanley Haywood, was enslaved. Her f...
10/29/2025

Raleigh, North Carolina, 1858.
A baby girl was born into slavery. Her mother, Hannah Stanley Haywood, was enslaved. Her father was almost certainly her mother's enslaver—a prominent white man named George Washington Haywood.
The child was named Anna Julia Haywood.
By the circumstances of her birth, she was property. The law said she had no rights, no future, no voice.
Anna Julia Cooper had other ideas.
When the Civil War ended and emancipation came, Anna was about seven years old. Suddenly, impossibly, she was free.
And the first thing she wanted was education.
In 1868, St. Augustine's Normal School opened in Raleigh to train Black teachers. Anna enrolled immediately. She was brilliant, hungry to learn, and furious about limitations.
The school offered advanced courses—but only to male students. Women were expected to study just enough to become basic teachers or support their future husbands.
Anna thought that was absurd.
She demanded to take the advanced courses. The school refused. She pushed back. Eventually, they let her in—and she outperformed every male student.
She graduated determined to keep going higher.
In 1881, at age 23, Anna enrolled at Oberlin College in Ohio—one of the only institutions in America that admitted both women and Black students.
She earned her bachelor's degree in mathematics in 1884.
Then she went back for a master's degree in mathematics in 1887.
A Black woman. With two degrees in mathematics. In the 1880s.
That alone would have been revolutionary.
Anna was just getting started.
She moved to Washington, D.C., and began teaching at M Street High School (later renamed Dunbar High School). By 1902, she'd become principal—the first Black woman to lead the institution.
Under her leadership, M Street became legendary.
Anna set impossibly high standards. She insisted her students study Latin, Greek, advanced mathematics, and classical literature. She prepared them for college when most of America assumed Black students were incapable of higher education.
Her students proved America wrong.
M Street graduates went to Harvard, Yale, Oberlin, and other top universities. They became doctors, lawyers, professors, leaders.
Anna's approach enraged racist school board members who believed Black students should be trained only for manual labor, not academics.
In 1906, they forced her out as principal, fabricating charges to justify her removal.
She kept teaching. She kept writing. She kept fighting.
In 1892, Anna had published "A Voice from the South"—one of the first books by a Black woman analyzing race and gender in America.
In it, she wrote:
"The cause of freedom is not the cause of a race or a sect, a party or a class—it is the cause of humankind."
That sentence would echo through history. But in 1892, most of America wasn't listening.
Then, in her 60s—when most people would be thinking about retirement—Anna decided to earn a Ph.D.
She'd been pursuing doctoral studies part-time for years while teaching full-time and raising her adopted children (she'd taken in family members' children and raised them as her own).
But American universities made it nearly impossible for a Black woman to complete a doctorate.
So in 1911, Anna went to Paris.
She enrolled at the Sorbonne—one of Europe's most prestigious universities. She studied French history and culture while maintaining her teaching career in D.C., traveling back and forth across the Atlantic.
In 1924, at age 66, Anna defended her dissertation on French attitudes toward slavery during the French Revolution.
In 1925, the University of Paris awarded her a Ph.D.
Anna Julia Cooper became the fourth African American woman ever to earn a doctoral degree—and she did it at 67, in a foreign language, while teaching full-time and raising children.
She didn't stop.
She taught for another 15 years, finally retiring in her 80s. Then she founded Frelinghuysen University, a night school for working Black adults in Washington, D.C.
She served as its president until age 84.
Anna Julia Cooper lived to be 105 years old.
She was born when slavery was still legal. She died in 1964—one year after Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, during the height of the Civil Rights Movement.
She witnessed the Civil War, Reconstruction, Jim Crow, the Harlem Renaissance, both World Wars, and the beginning of the movement that would finally dismantle legal segregation.
She lived long enough to see some of what she'd fought for. Not all of it. But some.
When she died on February 27, 1964, Anna Julia Cooper had spent 105 years proving that Black women's minds were as powerful as anyone's. That education was a right, not a privilege. That freedom was everyone's cause.
Today, her words—"The cause of freedom is not the cause of a race or a sect, a party or a class—it is the cause of humankind"—appear in United States passports, carried by millions of Americans traveling the world.
Most of those travelers have no idea who wrote those words.
Most don't know about the woman born into slavery who earned a Ph.D. from the Sorbonne at 67.
Most don't know about the principal who fought to give Black students a classical education when America said they should learn to be servants.
Anna Julia Cooper lived 105 years. She taught for over 60 of them. She fought for education, for women's rights, for racial justice, for human dignity.
And she did it all while America kept trying to make her disappear.
She was born property.
She died one of the most educated women in America, with her words in every U.S. passport.
That's not just a remarkable life.
That's a revolution lived one student, one degree, one refusal to be silenced at a time.
In honor of Dr. Anna Julia Cooper (1858-1964), who was born enslaved and died free, educated, and impossible to ignore—even though history tried.

October 11, 1991. The set of "The Royal Family." Rehearsal was running smoothly when suddenly, Redd Foxx clutched his ch...
10/29/2025

October 11, 1991. The set of "The Royal Family." Rehearsal was running smoothly when suddenly, Redd Foxx clutched his chest and yelled the line he'd made famous on "Sanford and Son" for years.
Everyone cracked up. It was vintage Redd—the fake heart attack bit that had killed audiences for decades.
Then he hit the floor.
The laughter stopped. Someone rushed over. This wasn't a bit.
Redd Foxx collapsed on set doing what he'd done his entire life—making people laugh. But this time, he wasn't getting back up.
He died that evening. The boy who cried wolf had finally met the wolf.
That was the final, tragic twist in a life that had already played like one long, unscripted comedy.
Before television fame, before America knew his name, Redd Foxx was the underground king of comedy. In the 1940s and 50s, he recorded dozens of "party records"—raunchy, uncensored stand-up albums so raw that no legitimate label would touch them.
So he sold them himself. Out of car trunks. At barbecue joints. In basements and back rooms.
His jokes were too honest. Too street. Too Black. Too real for white America's delicate sensibilities.
But Black America loved him. They passed those records around like contraband, laughing at a comedian who said what everyone was thinking but nobody was allowed to say.
In those Harlem days, Redd ran in the same circles as Malcolm X—back when Malcolm was Malcolm Little, before the Nation of Islam, before the revolution. One was preaching on corners. The other was killing time at the Apollo, dreaming of a crowd big enough to listen.
Both men understood the power of truth told without apology.
When "Sanford and Son" finally hit television in 1972, Redd Foxx didn't just become famous—he detonated.
His timing. His cackling laugh. His fearless insults. His ability to take poverty, racism, and daily indignities and turn them into comedy gold.
Fred Sanford—the poor junk dealer in Watts—became America's unlikely conscience. A sharp-mouthed hustler who told uncomfortable truths with a grin and made the whole country laugh while doing it.
Off-screen, Redd was even wilder than his character.
He tipped cab drivers with hundred-dollar bills. Bought Cadillacs for friends just because. Threw legendary parties. Lived large, laughed loud, and spent money like a man who understood that joy was temporary and tomorrow wasn't guaranteed.
The IRS hounded him for years. He owed millions. Didn't care.
"I'll die broke," he said once, "but I'll die laughing."
And he did.
But here's what matters more than the money or the fame or even the tragic irony of his death:
Redd Foxx kicked open comedy's doors for every Black comedian who came after him.
Richard Pryor worshipped him. Eddie Murphy called him a hero. Chris Rock studied his timing. Dave Chappelle learned from his fearlessness.
He proved that Black comedians didn't have to soften their voices or sanitize their truth to succeed. He showed them that raw, honest, street-level comedy could not only survive—it could dominate.
He was a pioneer when pioneers got blacklisted. A rebel when rebels got silenced. A truth-teller when truth-telling could end your career.
And on October 11, 1991, he died the way he lived—doing exactly what he loved.
Making people laugh.
Even as he took his last breath, he was in the middle of a joke. The ultimate commitment to the bit.
The world remembers the laughter—the cackle, the one-liners, the "Elizabeth, I'm coming to join you, honey!" routine that became iconic.
But the real story runs deeper.
It's about a man who refused to compromise, who lived on his own terms, who spent every dollar he made spreading joy, and who opened doors that had been locked shut for decades.
Redd Foxx didn't die broke.
He died rich in legacy, in laughter, in the countless comedians he inspired, and in the millions of people he made smile.
And yeah, he died doing his most famous bit—one last time, for real.
That's not tragedy.
That's poetry.
Rest in power, Redd Foxx.
You lived laughing.
And you died laughing.
Exactly like you said you would.

Ernest Hemingway once wrote: The hardest lesson I have had to learn as an adult is the relentless need to keep going, no...
10/29/2025

Ernest Hemingway once wrote: The hardest lesson I have had to learn as an adult is the relentless need to keep going, no matter how broken I feel inside.
This truth is raw, unfiltered, and painfully universal. Life doesn’t stop when we are exhausted, when our hearts are shattered, or when our spirits feel threadbare. It keeps moving—unyielding, indifferent—demanding that we keep pace. There is no pause button for grief, no intermission for healing, no moment where the world gently steps aside and allows us to mend. Life expects us to carry our burdens in silence, to push forward despite the weight of all we carry inside.
The cruelest part? No one really prepares us for this. As children, we are fed stories of resilience wrapped in neat, hopeful endings—tales where pain has purpose and every storm clears to reveal a bright horizon. But adulthood strips away those comforting illusions. It teaches us that survival is rarely poetic. More often than not, it’s about showing up when you’d rather disappear, smiling through pain no one sees, and carrying on despite feeling like you're unraveling from the inside out.
And yet, somehow, we persevere. That’s the quiet miracle of being human. Even when life is relentless, even when hope feels distant, we keep moving. We stumble, we break, we fall to our knees—but we get up. And in doing so, we uncover a strength we never knew we had. We learn to comfort ourselves in the ways we wish others would. We become the voice of reassurance we once searched for. Slowly, we realize that resilience isn’t always about grand acts of bravery; sometimes, it’s just a whisper—“Keep going.”
Yes, it’s exhausting. Yes, it’s unfair. And yes, there are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable. But every small step forward is proof that we haven’t given up. That we are still fighting, still holding on, still refusing to let the darkness consume us. That quiet defiance—choosing to exist, to try, to hope—is the bravest thing we can do.
-
What’s the hardest lesson you’ve had to learn as an adult, and how has it shaped you?
Text Credit: Coach Mantas✍️

Fable: DON'T ARGUE WITH DONKEYSThe donkey said to the tiger:- "The grass is blue".The tiger replied:- "No, the grass is ...
10/29/2025

Fable: DON'T ARGUE WITH DONKEYS
The donkey said to the tiger:
- "The grass is blue".
The tiger replied:
- "No, the grass is green."
The discussion heated up, and the two decided to submit him to arbitration, and for this they went before the lion, the King of the Jungle.
Already before reaching the forest clearing, where the lion was sitting on his throne, the donkey began to shout:
- "His Highness, is it true that the grass is blue?".
The lion replied:
- "True, the grass is blue."
The donkey hurried and continued:
- "The tiger disagrees with me and contradicts and annoys me, please punish him."
The king then declared:
- "The tiger will be punished with 5 years of silence."
The donkey jumped cheerfully and went on his way, content and repeating:
- "The Grass Is Blue"...
The tiger accepted his punishment, but before he asked the lion:
- "Your Majesty, why have you punished me?, after all, the grass is green."
The lion replied:
- "In fact, the grass is green."
The tiger asked:
- "So why are you punishing me?".
The lion replied:
- "That has nothing to do with the question of whether the grass is blue or green.
The punishment is because it is not possible for a brave and intelligent creature like you to waste time arguing with a donkey, and on top of that come and bother me with that question."
The worst waste of time is arguing with the fool and fanatic who does not care about truth or reality, but only the victory of his beliefs and illusions. Never waste time on arguments that don't make sense...
There are people who, no matter how much evidence and evidence we present to them, are not in the capacity to understand, and others are blinded by ego, hatred and resentment, and all they want is to be right even if they are not.
When ignorance screams, intelligence is silent. Your peace and quietness are worth more.
Text Credit: Story Rewind

Late in his life, Bing Crosby’s nephew casually asked him what the hardest moment of his career had been. He expected a ...
10/29/2025

Late in his life, Bing Crosby’s nephew casually asked him what the hardest moment of his career had been. He expected a dramatic story—maybe about a tough movie director or a fight with a studio.
But Bing’s answer surprised him. He talked about a moment during a USO tour in France in December 1944.
He had just finished performing for 15,000 French and American soldiers, alongside Dinah Shore and the Andrews Sisters. The crowd had been full of joy, laughing and cheering. Then, Bing had to end the show with something quieter—his song “White Christmas.” He told his nephew the hardest moment of his whole career was keeping his emotions in check and staying on pitch while singing to thousands of tearful soldiers.
Bing never wore his toupee on USO tours. It might seem like a small detail, but it mattered to him—those shows were about being real, not about looking like a Hollywood star. He also made sure that front-row seats weren’t saved for officers, but for the regular soldiers—the ones heading into battle.
Just days after that performance, many of those same soldiers were sent to fight in the Battle of the Bulge—one of the most deadly battles in history.

She was just making coffee. She ended up changing the world.The year was 1908. In a small kitchen in Dresden, Germany, a...
10/29/2025

She was just making coffee. She ended up changing the world.The year was 1908. In a small kitchen in Dresden, Germany, a housewife named Melitta Bentz was having the same frustrating morning she'd had a thousand times before.The coffee was terrible.Not because she couldn't cook—but because coffee itself was a mess. Back then, there was no such thing as a clean cup. You boiled loose grounds in water, and every single cup came out bitter, over-extracted, and full of grit. The bottom of your mug was basically mud.Percolators existed, but they just made things worse—boiling the same coffee over and over until it tasted like regret.Melitta was done with it.So one morning, tired of starting her day with disappointment, she did what brilliant people do: she improvised.She grabbed her son's school notebook, tore out a piece of blotting paper, took a brass pot from the kitchen, and punched some holes in the bottom with a nail. Then she placed the paper inside, spooned in coffee grounds, and slowly poured hot water over it.The water filtered through. The grounds stayed behind.And what dripped into the cup below?Pure, smooth, clean coffee. No bitterness. No sludge. Just flavor.In that moment, in a kitchen most people would never see, Melitta Bentz invented the coffee filter.She didn't wait around wondering if it mattered. She knew it did. That same year, she applied for a patent. On June 20, 1908, it was granted. She and her husband Hugo started a company with just 72 pfennigs—barely enough for a loaf of bread.They worked from home. Her sons helped. And slowly, word spread.By the 1920s, Melitta filters were being sold across Europe. By the 1930s, they were everywhere. The simple paper filter—born from frustration in a German kitchen—became one of the most successful inventions of the 20th century.Melitta didn't have a lab. She didn't have investors or engineers. She had a problem, a curious mind, and the willingness to try something new.She also did something radical for her time: she put her own name on the product. In an era when women were expected to disappear into the background, Melitta Bentz made sure the world knew exactly who solved the problem.And the world responded.Her company grew into an empire. Today, more than a century later, the Melitta brand is still going strong—still family-owned, still trusted, still synonymous with great coffee. Millions of people around the world use her invention every single morning without even knowing her name.But maybe it's time we did.Because Melitta Bentz proved something important: you don't need a fancy title or a degree to change the world. You just need to notice a problem, refuse to accept it, and try something different.The next time you brew a smooth, clean cup of coffee—whether it's drip, pour-over, or single-serve—you're using Melitta's idea. That clarity in your cup? That's her.So tomorrow morning, when you take that first sip, raise your mug.To Melitta Bentz: the woman who turned frustration into innovation, blotting paper into brilliance, and a kitchen experiment into a legacy that wakes up the world.Here's to the everyday geniuses.The ones who don't wait for permission to solve problems.The ones who remind us that the best ideas often come from the simplest places.Cheers, Melitta.

Ethel “Sunny” Lowry was born in Longsight in 1911. Her dad was a fish wholesaler and she was a 2nd cousin of the artist,...
10/29/2025

Ethel “Sunny” Lowry was born in Longsight in 1911. Her dad was a fish wholesaler and she was a 2nd cousin of the artist, LS Lowry.
From an early age, she loved swimming. She would swim regularly at Victoria Baths and Levenshulme Baths. She went to Manchester High School for Girls. The school thought that Sunny was rather too much focused on swimming. Sunny later said: "The headmistress was a rather stern woman and she looked at me from over her half-moon glasses and said 'Lowry, what is your ambition?' I replied immediately, 'To swim the Channel' and she said, without another word, 'Dismissed!'."
By her late teens, Sunny had developed into a strong distance swimmer. She took advantage of family holidays to swim the length of Windermere and along stretches of the North Wales coast. She often liked to wear a two-piece costume, which was very daring for those days. On more than one occasion she said she was "branded a harlot for daring to bare her knees".
She entered an X-Factor style competition in which the winner got to be trained by a top team for a cross-Channel swim. Out of 300 applicants, Sunny was chosen. So, in 1933, at the age of 22, she caught a train from Manchester down to the south coast to begin rigorous training. Her trainer was tough - the first thing he said to her was "'If you say the water's cold, you may as well get off home".
On her first attempt to swim the Channel, she was defeated by strong currents. She tried again the next day, and got to within sight of the French coast. But then a storm blew up. It grew so wild and dark, the team boat completely lost sight of her. She was only spotted when one of the crew caught a glimpse of her swimming cap during a flash of lightning. So that attempt was abandoned as well. After two failed attempts, the team considered giving up, but Sunny said she really wanted to give it one last go.
She set off again, this time from the French side. It was in the small hours of the morning and was still dark. As usual, she had to be covered in grease to protect from the cold. In preparation, she'd been eating up to 40 eggs a week (mostly in omelettes) and pushed up her weight to 14st 7lb, because it was predicted that she would lose a pound for every hour in the sea.
During the swim, she ate nothing, but paused now and again to drink coffee, cocoa and beef tea, which she swigged from a medicine bottle dangled over the side of the es**rt boat.
After swimming for 15 hours 41 minutes, she finally emerged from a rough sea, and crawled up the beach at St Margaret's Bay, near Dover. Her face and neck were swollen with jellyfish bites, and her lips were cracked and blue. She was exhausted. But she'd made it.
She thus became the 6th woman to swim the Channel and the 3rd British woman ever to do so.
After her successful swim, Sunny returned to Manchester and was she greeted by cheering crowds at Central Station. She accepted that her moment in the limelight would not last and she dedicated her life to teaching swimming. She later married and her husband, Bill, was also a swimming teacher.
She was later awarded an MBE. Sunny was described as a wonderful, gentle, kind lady. Her great niece said: "She was as fit as a fiddle, as sharp as ninepence, and she kept on swimming well into her 90s".
Sunny died, aged 97, in 2008.
Credit Goes To The Respective Owner

When the Titanic sank, it carried millionaire John Jacob Astor IV. The money in his bank account was enough to build 30 ...
10/28/2025

When the Titanic sank, it carried millionaire John Jacob Astor IV. The money in his bank account was enough to build 30 Titanics. However, faced with mortal danger, he chose what he deemed morally right and gave up his spot in a lifeboat to save two frightened children.
Millionaire Isidor Straus, co-owner of the largest American chain of department stores, "Macy's," who was also on the Titanic, said:
"I will never enter a lifeboat before other men."
His wife, Ida Straus, also refused to board the lifeboat, giving her spot to her newly appointed maid, Ellen Bird. She decided to spend her last moments of life with her husband.
These wealthy individuals preferred to part with their wealth, and even their lives, rather than compromise their moral principles. Their choice in favor of moral values ​​highlighted the brilliance of human civilization and human nature✍️

In 1860, after 21 years of marriage and six children, Elizabeth Packard was locked in an Illinois asylum.Not for violenc...
10/28/2025

In 1860, after 21 years of marriage and six children, Elizabeth Packard was locked in an Illinois asylum.
Not for violence. Not for instability. But for disagreeing with her husband’s beliefs. Under the law, a man needed no proof, no trial, not even his wife’s consent to declare her insane.
Inside the asylum, Elizabeth uncovered a cruel truth: many women around her were not “mad” at all. They were wives who resisted, daughters who defied, women who spoke too boldly.
Where others broke, Elizabeth sharpened her pen. She wrote. She observed. She waited.
After three years, she finally stood in court — and defended her right to think for herself. She won her freedom. But she didn’t stop there.
In books, speeches, and campaigns to lawmakers, she exposed the abuses of asylums and fought to reform laws that gave men unchecked power over women.
Elizabeth Packard nearly lost her life as she knew it. But her defiance changed the law — securing protections for generations of women to come.

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a...
10/28/2025

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with✍️

This needs to be shared every day by every rider until everyone has seen it and practices it!!While crossing the highway...
10/28/2025

This needs to be shared every day by every rider until everyone has seen it and practices it!!
While crossing the highway and having a car blow right past me it made me think maybe people just don't know what the proper etiquette is for passing a horse.
Here is my PSA.....you are passing an animal! While I like to believe I am in full control of this animal. At the end of the day he/she is 1000lbs and fully capable of spooking or jumping at anytime. You should treat passing a horse just as you would passing a deer. Treat it like you don't know what direction they are going, because you don't. If a deer can total out a car imagine what a horse would do. You could likely kill me, my horse, and yourself. If I see you coming, I’ll do my best to get off the road. So as kindly as I can possibly say it, slow down!!! If you have a teen driver, please inform them.

Boone NC officials have confirmed that 62 members of the Pennsylvania Amish community have completed the construction of...
10/28/2025

Boone NC officials have confirmed that 62 members of the Pennsylvania Amish community have completed the construction of 12 tiny homes in Western North Carolina in under 48 hours.
The total cost of the project for was over $300,000, all of which was donated by the Amish community. Reported on X, aka Twitter.

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