At the very bottom of this post is my Photo of the Day. Also listed are my responses to some of the recent messages I’ve received from readers.
Good Morning Dennis, I want to take just a moment to compliment you DML for the way you Gallantly, Graciously and Courageously answer your e-mails daily. Some of your so called “followers” are the most mean spirited, spiteful, malicious, hurtful and unpleasant in their e-mails to you. What I cannot seem to grasp is the “WHY” they are “followers” of DML …. I say to them go “follow” someone else !!!
I want to compliment ALL of your “Team DML” FOLLOWERS who have been with you since the old days and have supported you. First of all “Thank You DML” for all of your willingness to impart to us all of your vast knowledge into all the “Political Drama” on a daily basis.
Thank You to your Kind, Loving, Helpful, Beautiful, Intelligent Wife Miss Mary and for Miss Mary Café …AND… for sharing You with us… To your really wonderful children for wanting to follow into your footsteps DML to make this a better America…. And also for sharing their “Dad” with us… Finally a most meaningful “Thank You” to your DML Staff… your outstanding news updates are so appreciated… I have the DML App at my finger tips!!!! Have a Meaningful Monday!!
DML: Thank you Carol. I will never understand why people send me such evil remarks, but Lord knows I won’t let them slide without a response. Truth is, I do no wrong to anyone. I like to believe I do good for people. Either way, whether people agree or disagree with that assessment, allow me to unload my thoughts…
People donated to us last week to help with a new camera. They did this after learning that my son was deceived by someone he knew and as a result, he was stuck with the camera in a rain storm. The camera was destroyed.
The day after the donations came in, I publicly thanked people for their generosity. The result of doing such a thing? I get ripped to shreds in the comments section and on Facebook.
Fact is, I cannot buy the new camera with the funds raised. I will have to take the shortfall out of the budget I have set aside for something else. Why?
For starters, we didn’t raise enough money, and that’s fine because I didn’t expect to. Remember, people took it up on themselves to send help.
Second, I wound up giving away 30% of those donations to a school safety charity run by Parkland parent Lori Alhadeff. Why? Because 3 days after the camera broke, I found myself in a very heartbreaking situation with her. Here is the story…
It’s a hot sunny day in Florida and Lor Alhadeff is 24-hours from learning if her efforts to run for Broward County School Board will result in an election victory. Instead of doing some last minute campaigning, Lori bravely takes me to her daughter’s grave and explains the moment when she learned of her death. She starts by saying, “When Alyssa didn’t answer her phone, I knew my world was shattered.”
She explains to me — a man she has come to trust despite spending just a few days together — how she felt the first time she saw Alyssa lying dead. She battles through her emotions to tell me how she touched her little girl’s body in all the places where she had been shot. Alyssa had been shot 10 times.
Lori’s eyes start to well-up as she describes the moment when the authorities permitted her to be with Alyssa for the first time after she had been murdered. “Alyssa was so cold. Her lifeless 14-year-old body was freezing,” she cries.
Lori says she tried to warm Alyssa’s body and face with her own hands. “I was touching her everywhere, I was trying to warm her up — she was so cold — but nothing worked — nothing got warm. I wanted to bring Alyssa back to life, but none of her body parts moved”, she explained to me as huge tears flowed down her face.
It is the most powerful moment I have ever spent with another parent. It is the most surreal interview I have ever conducted. It is so real that I begin to cry in a way that would leave someone to believe that Alyssa was my child. Perhaps in a spiritual way she is my child, which means she is your child too.
At that moment I fell in love with Lori in a way that all Americans are supposed to love their fellow citizens. She is on my team. She is a victim, she needs help, she wants a shoulder to lean on and a hand to hold, and on this day I am there for her.
I am there because I want to be there as a friend, and because I have to be there as a news man. But I am also there because of the generosity of TEAM DML who makes it so I can buy the cameras, order the tickets and rent the hotel rooms.
In the same way that misery loves company, Lori wanted me there to listen to the horrible details, but she really needed me there so I share in her pain. She wanted me to feel it, to touch it, and live it. This was her way to ensure I would never forget what happened at Parkland, and I would use all of my talent and reach to do my part to help make schools safe.
She knew my network of supporters online is far greater than hers, but she wasn’t picking my brain on how to use social media — she didn’t seek advice or insight about what to do next. She wasn’t scoring political points with me, nor tapping into my audience for financial gain. To narrow it down, all she wanted was someone to care as much as she cares — she wanted someone to cry with.
I didn’t concern myself with the fact that she is a Democrat and I am a conservative. It didn’t matter that she is a Jew and I am a Catholic. She is my fellow American, she is a mom, and a wife, and a friend. She is a candidate simply because she is a 43-year-old lady who on February 13 was enjoying her life, but then the next morning had her heart ripped apart on Valentine’s Day of all days.
Despite Alyssa being 14-years old, she is still Lori’s baby. And now Lori will never have the chance to hold her baby again, she will never watch her baby graduate or get married, or have kids. She will never get the chance to make her baby warm when her body goes cold. Lori is powerless, she is hurting, and she wants it to all go away like a bad dream. But it’s not a dream, this is Lori’s life and she has nowhere to hide from the hard reality and cold truth.
Her baby is gone because of incompetence, unlawfulness, political correctness, and a lack of effort by those who are paid to provide safety at school. And although I cannot truly relate to her pain — and I quietly pray that what happened to her never happens to me and my babies — I will love Lori and help her get through this day. And I will help her find more volunteers so that she can win her election tomorrow. And I will listen to her words with all of my heart and soul in an attempt to tell her story because it needs to be told, and because I have signed up for this job and I will do it in the way that is honest, noble and unbiased.
Making the day more difficult is the revelation that across from Alyssa’s grave is the grave of Meadow Pollack. She too is a victim in the Parkland shooting, and I have been with her father for the past 6-months working on school safety legislation, teaching him how to deal with the media, and making the documentary that has led me to Lori.
Lori is speaking to me about something regarding the cemetery but for the first time on this day I have stopped listening. Although I am looking at her, my mind goes lost in a prayer I whisper to God. I ask Him to look after both Alyssa and Meadow. I ask God to give Lori and Andy Pollack the strength to move on without their babies and to somehow find a way to enjoy this life we all take for granted.
I end my prayer and hear Lori explain that another victim, 14-year-old Alex, is located at the end of isle where we stand. I am scheduled to interview Alex’s father Max later in the day.
Lori’s demeanor changes as she kneels down and pulls the weeds from the side of Alyssa’s headstone. She looks into my small backup camera and says, “This is where my daughter stays. She doesn’t come home with me today.” In an attempt to keep my composure I politely suggest we leave — it’s getting late and I have to meet Max. She understands and we move towards the car.
The day before this experience, I was in Lori’s home where she showed me videos and photos of her beautiful Alyssa. On the wall is a pencil sketch of a young, 14-year-old Alyssa that is full of life. On her shoulder is a butterfly. Lori explains to me that a friend drew the picture, and that the big butterfly represents the yellow butterfly that appeared at the grave of Alyssa the day after she was buried. “My husband and I were standing at her grave when all of a sudden a big yellow butterfly was hovering around our heads. It was the only butterfly in the area. I tell everyone that story because I believe it was a sign from Alyssa. My friend incorporated the butterfly into the picture,” Lori explains.
With that story in mind, imagine how I feel as Lori as I walk away from Alyssa’s grave. Along the way we pass Meadow’s grave and head towards my car which is parked next to the entrance to Alex’s spot in the King David Cemetery. Out of nowhere, 3 yellow butterflies hover around our heads. Lori yells aloud, “Look, look at the butterflies! They’ve come back.” She starts to express her feelings about the important, spiritual meaning of the 3 butterflies being with us on this day. She speaks in a tone that is hard to describe — she is crying but she is laughing, she is joyous but she sounds heartbroken. I am amazed by this all and try to keep my trembling hands steady as I catch on camera the only 3 butterflies in the area.
I share this entire story because it’s real, and it’s horrible, and it’s beautiful, and it’s the path I often find myself on.
I will come 100% clean. If I could swallow a magic pill and disappear from this ugly business I find myself in, I would swallow two pills.
The amount of lies from our presidents (Clinton, Bush, Obama and Trump), the amount of bias in the media, the amount of slime in Congress, the amount of hate found on social media and in my inbox, it’s a total hot mess and I don’t need this in my life. It was much easier when I was walking around 15-years ago not following any of this garbage, and when I didn’t spend an hour each day sifting through hate email.
I would much rather take my son and daughter and produce romantic comedies, sci-fi thrillers or made-for-TV dramas. It would be a nice life making films that add no value aside from entertainment. There is far more money in it, far less crap to deal with, and from what I can tell there is little to no stress in the world of make pretend.
But lets face it, there are no magic pills to swallow. We all sit in this pool of murky water as we chew on the reality. We eat the crap sandwiches and try to wash out the taste by sipping on hot black coffee more times a day than we should.
Truth is nobody puts us in this pool, we do it to ourselves. For example, you can click away now in the same way that I can delete the websites and put down the camera. We can all miss the next train wreck, and the next shooting, and the next useless tweet about fake news, Tiger Woods, Jeanne Pirro’s new book, and Fox & Friends ratings. But we don’t. I don’t.
News, news, news, politics, politics, politics, and Trump, Trump, Trump — it’s covered wall to wall. It’s what people want, and so just like the other networks, websites and outlets, I build the tools to deliver it to you 24/7/365. Yes, I try to do it honestly and differently by adding in some heart, family, and fun when I can find the funny inside of me, but here is the crazy true part…
Despite the fact that the amount of illegal aliens in our neighborhoods has increased at a percentage rate comparable to the healthcare premium increases we will see again this year; and despite the uptick in the amount of tents popping up on public sidewalks; and despite the increasing number of children going to unsafe schools, and the increased number of kids who go to school unshowered and with bellies empty because they live in poverty; and despite how the number of drug overdoses this year will break a new record; and despite all the shootings that never stop including the one today in Alabama; and despite the fact that we’ve been lied to time and again about the big stuff, and the small stuff, and the Hillary emails, and the Stormy Daniels ordeal where he said he didn’t know about the payment when he actually did; and all the other jazz that flows thru Twitter each nanosecond, some people appear to prefer that we not place that stuff on the DML APP.
These one-way folks don’t want the truth in their newsfeed because it goes against the narrative they want delivered. It’s like dealing with the Obama supporters, only they wear red MAGA hats this time. They prefer we stick on the economy, focus on CNN’s demise, repeat the good stuff and tout that everything in America is great again. In short, they want me to lie and or omit.
They want me to agree that this administration is better than any other administration in our history as a nation. And they want me to cheer that Trump is right even when and if he is wrong. They want me to post the poll that never existed. You know the one that Trump touted on Twitter — the one he says shows his approval rating is higher than Abe Lincoln’s. I didn’t know they conducted and recorded approval rating polls in Abe’s day. But Trump said it is so, thus, it must be true.
We cover Trump’s good stuff all day long. But God forbid we call him out like we did Obama. God forbid if we point out his nonsense, or ask when Mexico will write the check for the wall, or when Obamacare will be replaced, or when mandatory e-Verfiy will be launched via an executive order — or how about mentioning e-Verify in a tweet?
I am blasted for not expressing how hard Trump is working, and they want me to blame everyone else around him for issues he creates. Why should I do this? Presidents are supposed to work hard. Real leaders are supposed to accept accountability. The one-way cult followers don’t want me to question how and why a man in Trump’s spot would hire a slime ball like Scaramucci, and a liar like Omarosa, or a cheat like Manafort. They want to hang me for doing my job.
God forbid I respond to one of his silly tweets about “TV ratings” with a question about border security, Obamacare or homelessness. God forbid that I ask for details about who it is in America that is doing so great, because truth is I’m not doing so great, are you?
The media is supposed to keep politicians accountable. We are not supposed to pray at the alter of the president. If Obama did the things Trump does, or fails to do and I skipped it over, people would rip me for not reporting the truth.
In the end the truth is here, but people want to be at war with someone or something even if it’s me and DML News for telling the truth. This is why war movies do so much better than love stories. It’s why video games offer us the repeated chance to kill people instead of loving people. I can go on and on, and on and on. But I won’t. Instead, I will conclude with this…
If it was not for people like you Carol, who support me with daily prayers and words of kindness, I would have left this “news” business the day I left Newsmax. That is the God’s honest truth.
It’s people like Lori Alhadeff and her hope that I can bring awareness to the real happenings at Parkland so that no other parent has to endure her pain. It’s the homeless lady we met in NJ who asked if we could send some food and water to her encampment because everyone else had forgotten she and the others like her are there trying to survive.
It’s the frustrated San Diego border agent who spent his day off taking me on a tour of the border with hopes that more people will see what is really happening at the border when we launch They Come to America 4.
It’s people like Jane from Long Island who knits Mary a new bedspread, it’s Shirley from Florida who sends my kids graduation cards, it’s Tommy Tattoo from PA who tunes in every day without fail, it’s Mississippi Helen who sends a thank you card because I called her on the phone to lift her spirits after learning that her daughter is dying, it’s Jenna and Nick from California who opened their home to TEAM DML when I was traveling through the San Diego area on Memorial Day, it’s Janet from Brooklyn and Deb from Texas who took the effort to send us donations of $10,000 each to help build a studio despite both of their husbands being ill at the time.
It’s people like Gloria from NJ, who on her planned way to Heaven sent us her life’s savings of $871 because we made her feel like family. It’s people like Mark, a veteran from Utah, who donated money to me 3 times and sends me emails ending with Semper Fi. It’s Amy in Florida who sends $75 each month because she can. It’s Lisa in California who wants to donate merchandise, and it’s Candy who makes our hats at no charge.
It’s because of people like Ed from Philly, who buys a truckload of DVDs in hope that it will help get a petition for e-Verify to generate buzz. When the petition fails and I tell him I will refund his money, he tells me to keep the cash so it can be put towards something else.
It’s the ageless sisters Pinky and Janice who try to get me to attend a party they want to throw in my honor. It’s because of Elizabeth, who at times will blast me right before she begs me to run for office in 2024 because she says I am the last hope of securing our borders.
It’s for carpenter Tom Wedell, aka the guy who got me into all of this. He’s the guy who for 10 years stood each morning on the corner of a 7/11 in Southampton, NY protesting against the illegal aliens who forced his business to close. Tom finally put his signs away last year and went back to living life again after Trump was elected. Sadly, 18-month into Trump’s time in office, I found Tom back on the corner last week. I was returning from Florida when I drove past the 7/11 and there he was protesting the 100 illegal aliens waiting to work.
It’s all the people who send gifts, books, checks, letters, pictures of their kids wearing DML NEWS hats, and so on and son on. It’s because of Anneta in Kansas, and Katrina in Arizona, and Mark in Iowa, they all work around the clock to make this DML News thing something special.
It is because of all these people mentioned above, and the thousands of others who I didn’t mention simply for the sake of brevity, that Mary and I and the kids deal with the ugliness, and the verbal and written assaults from mean-spirited people who have their heads buried.
It is because of you all that we battle the censorship and crooked dealings of Facebook and try to find new ways to communicate, even if it’s something as silly as a Wine and Talk, or something as intimate as spending Christmas together on a LIVE feed. It’s because I have hope that my last words in this life will be positive — that the hard work will pay off and I will have done my small part to make this a better place. I believe it can be.
As for having a meaningful Monday, I’ll be spending this Labor Day in a room editing the tail end of the homeless film so we can make our September 14 deadline. No BBQ for me today, no beach either. I’m not complaining, it will be a meaningful Monday for sure. My son will be at my side trying to make a film that adds value. And for that I am the luckiest guy around.
With that off my chest, I hope you all enjoy your Labor Day. Thank you for the ongoing support.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
Lori told me that the last words she ever said to Alyssa on the morning of Feb. 14 were, “I love you.” There is comfort in that for Lori. As there should be.