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    Welcome to Humanastory! Where we love to hear the stories of humanity. Everyone has a story to tell about their lives and how they became the person they are today. Your story could help the life of another going through the same experiences you had while on your journey through life. Become a member. It's easy with our 'one click' sign up and completely free! We just want everyone's voice to be heard. Become a Humanastorian today!

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    • I left home at 17 and begged my mum to do the same. She used to say, ‘I’ll leave when you are 18’, and then she’d look at my little brother and say, ‘I’ll leave when he’s 18’. But one day she rang up and said she was ready. She’d suddenly seen how my dad was dictating her life, and she wanted her freedom. We found her a little place near to where she was born and I moved in with her and my brother. Dad came home one day and his wife and son were gone.
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    • May 7th 1990 seemed like any other day but my state of mind wasn’t good. I was smoking weed, drinking and not wanting to attend school. I had this evil streak in me. I was so angry, and because I was hurting I wanted to hurt others.
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    • Jerry didn’t want me to witness the execution but I fought tooth and nail to be there. I couldn’t let him die in front of a room full of strangers. There were just two of us watching – myself and a relative of the roof contractor. The wife of Jerry’s victim wasn’t there, and I would say she’s the most sympathetic person I’ve ever known. She never publicly denounced what my son did, nor did she ever call for his execution.
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    • While I believed that forgiveness was generally a good thing, I had never considered forgiving the man who killed my mother. That brand of forgiveness was for extremists who went on Oprah. In fact, I strongly supported the death penalty, silently bitter that my mother’s killer had only received a life sentence.
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    • From the moment ISIS kidnapped him, our Government’s support was superb and together we came to a decision to keep quiet about it. This went on for 18 long months – a time filled with prayer, hope, despair and endless worry. It was very, very difficult on my parents as well as on David’s eldest daughter and his second wife but in many ways it brought the family closer together.
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    • My dad was brought up as a Jehovah’s Witness. He was the head of the house – what he said, went. My sister was a goody-goody, because even though she was ten years older than me, she was afraid of him. But I never was: if he told me to make him a cup of tea, I’d say, ‘haven’t you got legs?’ And I’d get a beating. Because of that, I never listened to him. My older brother was psychotic and I never got on with him, but my little brother was my support. He was always trying to look after me. I left home at 17 and begged my mum to do the same. She used to say, ‘I’ll leave when you are 18’, and then she’d look at my little brother and say, ‘I’ll leave when he’s 18’. But one day she rang up and said she was ready. She’d suddenly seen how my dad was dictating her life, and she wanted her freedom. We found her a little place near to where she was born and I moved in with her and my brother. Dad came home one day and his wife and son were gone. Mum and I started having the relationship we’d never had before. She was so happy and relaxed, and we’d go for coffees and just talk. She got in touch with my dad via my sister, just to let him know she was safe. She told me that she still loved him, but for who he was; not for what he had done to her. One day he called to say he had a load of post for her to collect. She had been thinking about going back for a visit anyway, so that my brother could see his old friends. But it was as if she knew something would happen, because she told me the night before that she thought he was going to kill her. Yet somehow she talked herself into it. I made her promise to wake me up in the morning so I could go with her. But she didn’t. I woke up the next morning to the police at my door and I knew instantly what had happened. My first reaction was that I had to see my dad. I had to know if he had killed her deliberately, or if it was some kind of accident. I wrote him a note saying, ‘I know what you’ve done. It’s OK. I love you and want to see you’. I signed it, ‘your daughter’, hoping he would think it was my sister and agree to see me. When he saw that it was me he burst into tears. I made up my mind there and then, that as long as he told me the truth, without a word of a lie, I would stand by him. I know that if I had been a mass murderer, my mum would still have visited me every day in prison. I tried my best to do what she would have done. He was the only link I still had with her. Throughout the trial he kept his word and never lied about what he had done, and eventually he was sentenced for manslaughter with diminished responsibility and sent to a psychiatric hospital. While he was in there we started having a proper father-daughter relationship. I’d come to him for advice on all my problems. I called him ‘Papa’, and he would tell me he loved me. He was the dad I always wanted. But he knew that if he ever started up the old behavior, he’d never see me again. My sister just couldn’t understand what I had done. She took my little brother and brought him up, but she pretended to everyone that our parents had died naturally. I never pretend. For me, it is much easier to forgive because then you can be free. She’ll have to live with her anger everyday for the rest of her life. Or worse, it might turn into regret. I’d already lived most of my life with hatred for my dad. I didn’t want it anymore. Forgiving him was such a big release. I’ll never forget what he did – but forgiving has brought me peace inside. When my dad got really ill with cancer and we knew he was going to die, my little brother asked to see him – just once, so that he could get some closure. The weak, bed-ridden figure he saw was nothing like the military man who used to bully us all. My dad told my brother he could die in peace now, knowing that his youngest child had forgiven him too. We can all make mistakes – that was the best thing my mother taught me. I now automatically look for the good in people I meet. I still miss my mum everyday; but I think she would be proud of me. - Natalia Aggiano
    • [ This show: In Progress. ] However, you can still post your thoughts on the particular subject that has been presented here. Comments made after the show might still be read on the next current show, as we review daily. Comments made during the show will be read on air. Humanastory! Listen Live Presents - Coffee With Humanastory Hosts: Brian Klein / Co-Hosts: Kristina Klein, Marilyn Sly
      Runtime: IN PROGRESS SP Guest: None "Coffee with Humanastory!", is the official Humanastory Live shows involving a no scripted conversation and interaction with our humanastorians. Theme of the day: Fantastic Friday 042 / Long Arm of Law Question of the day: How should laws be written? You can download the full audio: Here. Please Note: Hosts and Co-Hosts may use this main thread to answer this shows official questions. If you have some information to provide and want it done so, live; present your information below. Editorial Notes: Happy Thoughts! Live, Love, Laugh (A Lot) Today's Show Minutes From Last Show On This Day Current Events Comment Read Traveling With Humanastory Tidbits Image of the Day  Polls Thoughts on our Question of the Day Submitted Story Thoughts on Story Miscellaneous Source Links: Hands Free Driving Law | California Legislative Information | http://bit.ly/2F13Khl Minutes From Last Show: CWH Episode 83 | https://community.humanastory.com/topic/733-e083-time-honored/ On This Day | JAN 011th 1836 Alamo besieged for 13 days until March 6 by Mexican army under General Santa Anna; the entire garrison was eventually killed. 1893 Rudolf Diesel obtains a patent for his internal combustion engine, later known as the diesel engine. 1945 US Marines raise the flag on Iwo Jima, later a famous photo and Marine Corps War Memorial sculpture Current Event: Porn a Health Risk, Gun Measure Voted Down | Newsweek | http://bit.ly/2ELFyAd Mans Flatulence Causes Fight, Forcing Plane to Land | Fox News | http://fxn.ws/2CfmJ6O Poo Mistaken for Meteorite Chunks | Fox News | http://fxn.ws/2BJigs8 Our Comment Read: Comments are taken from across the website and any of our social media outlets  Traveling With Humanastory We await a submission to explore. Humanastory Tantalizing Tidbits of Information: (Tweet us yours @humanastory) Because the speed of Earth's rotation changes over time, a day in the age of dinosaurs was just 23 hours. Hummingbirds wings can beat 200 times a second. There are more than 1,200 water parks in North America. To cook an egg, a sidewalk has to be 158 degrees.  A group of jellyfish is not called a herd, a school, or a flock. It's called a smack. It would take 100 Earths, lined up end to end to stretch across the face of the sun. Some apples can weigh about as much as a half gallon of milk. Humanastory Polls: Current Poll Goes Here Image of the Day: Submitted Story: Turning The Cheek | Story Submission | https://community.humanastory.com/topic/736-turning-the-cheek/ Thanks and Credits: Michael John Doug Clevinger We're 100% Funded by listeners like you consider pledging or contributing a one time contribution: Support Humanastory, keep us strong by clicking here.
    • May 7th 1990 seemed like any other day but my state of mind wasn’t good. I was smoking weed, drinking and not wanting to attend school. I had this evil streak in me. I was so angry, and because I was hurting I wanted to hurt others. That evening some friends called for me and told me not to bring my gun which I assumed was because they didn’t want me to get arrested. I thought they cared for me but in fact they had a plan to have me killed. They were trying to teach me a lesson for being too confident. One bullet hit me in the spine and paralyzed me instantly. I remember yelling, ‘I got shot…I got hit’. I knew something was terribly wrong. With that one bullet the cycle of harm came back to haunt me because six months prior to this shooting I had shot a kid over drugs and now it was happening to me. I could hear the Police and I could hear neighbours gathering and saying ‘he’s dying’. All I wanted was my mother. I wanted to be held and not die with my entire community staring at me. It was so strange because at the same time as feeling all this fear I could also literally feel evil leaving my body. I had been this angry person who wanted to hurt people but as soon as I hit the ground there was no anger left. That tough kid just vanished. I spent six months in hospital and that was where the real paradigm shift happened. I had plenty of time to look at my life and I realised that I had hated everyone - my mom’s boyfriend for being a violent alcoholic, my mother for not walking away from him, and my dad for not saving me. And of course I hated myself too. I’d been a kid with a loving family and a good environment but had chosen to embrace anger and hate. It was my mom who told me that my spine would never repair. I was sitting in my wheelchair and as she told me she handed me a Bible. “I think this may help” she said. I thought she was mad but I read it anyway and learnt about forgiveness. When I left hospital I was home schooled, I went to physical therapy three times a week, and was with my mom constantly. We really connected during that time. She lived in this world of denial, always believing I could go to college and live a great life. That’s one reason why I am where I am today. She got me to never believe that I was disabled. I wanted to be an investment banker but in college I lost my way because of the temptation of weed, alcohol and women. I skipped class and eventually was put on academic probation. I knew I was screwing my life up and my mother told me to ask God what I was supposed to do. The very next day I got a call asking me for the first time to tell my story to kids teaching violence prevention. I realised then that this was what I wanted to do with my life. Helping others became my healing. Forgiveness began in the hospital. As my friends were seeking blood in revenge, I’d tell them to let it go because I knew that violence wasn’t the answer. Later, I was asked by Breaking the Cycle to talk in schools about forgiveness. At first the words sounded so strange in front of inner city kids but I knew Ghandi and Martin Luther King had both talked about forgiveness and so they became my mentors. The more I understood what they had said about the power of forgiveness the more I knew it was my path. Nowadays when I talk about drugs and gun control to young people I always talk about forgiveness too. I always tell them that forgiveness is extremely difficult. It takes more courage to be non-violent and forgiving than to be violent. I also tell them that what happened when I was 15 taught me that hating turns you into a hateful person. I hated violent, abusive people and so I became violent and abusive. I hated bullies and so I became a bully. Hate holds on to you whereas forgiveness frees you, and if you want to forgive others, then first you need to learn to forgive yourself. Our family was destroyed by the murders of three people in one night – my sister-in-law Connie and my two nephews Allen and Bobby, 16 and 14 – cut down by the hatchet of a madman. It was obscene, painful, heart shattering. At the time I could never have known this tragedy would be a call to love. - Hashim Garrett  
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