Following fake ransom arrest, a new note surfaces in Nancy Guthrie case: details of the new message revealed

By
Monica Pop
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The case of missing Nancy Guthrie has attracted significant public interest. The 84-year-old woman, who’s the mother of Today’s host Savannah Guthrie, has been missing since January 31, when she was last seen.

According to reports, Nancy and her daughter Anne had dinner together in the evening of January 31, and Anne dropped her off at home at around 9:30 p.m. However, Nancy didn’t show up at church on Sunday morning, which raised concerns because she had never missed service before.

By Sunday noon, she was officially reported missing.

Within hours of her disappearance, teams were combing the area by land and air, with planes, helicopters, drones, and Border Patrol dogs joining the effort.

Police believe Nancy Guthrie was taken from her home against her will, calling the case a possible kidnapping or abduction. Investigators say her limited mobility makes it unlikely she left on her own, and they have ruled out cognitive impairment.

“This is not dementia-related. She’s as sharp as a tack,” Pima County Sheriff Chris Nanos said in a press conference.

Authorities have not revealed what first raised concerns of a crime, but according to the Los Angeles Times, blood was discovered on the front porch of her Tucson home. Police sources said investigators have not put forward any theory about why she may have been taken. The blood was reportedly found alongside signs of forced entry at her Catalina Hills, Arizona, residence, though officials say its source has not been identified.

In the most recent update released by authorities amid the ongoing search for Nancy Guthrie, federal officials revealed a troubling development connected to the case, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation confirming that they made an arrest after determining the individual had been posing as the captor of the missing 84-year-old woman.

According to investigators, the suspect sent a fraudulent demand intended to appear as though it came from whoever was responsible for Nancy Guthrie’s disappearance.

Officials emphasized that the message wasn’t real and was simply an attempt to scam and take advantage of the situation. The person who was arrested is accused of preying on the fear and confusion surrounding the case by pretending to be the kidnapper and sending a fake demand, which ended up misleading the family and disrupted the ongoing investigation.

“We believe there is no evidence to connect this to Nancy’s case,” Heith Janke, the special agent in charge of the bureau’s Phoenix division said at a Feb. 5 press conference after confirming the arrest, E News! reported. “It was someone that was trying to profit from it. A total imposter.”

Authorities also made it clear that this arrest only relates to the bogus message and does not mean the suspect had anything to do with Nancy’s disappearance.

According to National Today, the suspect in question is 42-year-old Hawthorne man named Derrick Callella.

He allegedly sent the message to Nancy’s family shortly after her family shared an emotional plea video in which they asked whoever has taken their mother to return her home safely.

The message in question allegedly said, “Did you get the bitcoin [we are] waiting on our end for the transaction,” CBS reported.

The publication also noted that the FBI said Callella used a program to disguise his phone number when he sent the message. Despite that, agents were able to trace the text back to an IP address linked to his home in California, according to the criminal complaint.

He was arrested on February 5 in Hawthorne, about five miles from LAX. The complaint says Callella admitted to sending the message after locating the family’s information online.Investigators also noted that he tried to call Nancy Guthrie’s family shortly after sending the texts.

According to the FBI, “The two text messages have not been linked to the February 2, 2026, ransom demand.”

Don Arnold/WireImage

Derrick Callella, who used to work for Los Angeles County, has run into legal trouble before. In 2025, he was one of 13 county employees accused of collecting nearly $430,000 in unemployment benefits they weren’t entitled to during the pandemic. He faced both felony and misdemeanor theft charges in connection with the case.

Most recently, a new ransom note has been revealed by a local TV station, including details of the content.

JJ McKinney from Tucson ABC affiliate KGUN9 reported the station received a ransom note regarding Nancy’s missing, saying, “Multiple ransom notes have been sent out to the media, including one that was sent to us.”

He added: “In the letter, the potential kidnappers demanded that the Guthries pay them $6 million before this Monday.”

According to the outlet, the authors of the ransom note said Nancy Guthrie would face serious harm if their Monday 5 p.m. local deadline was not met.

Nancy’s children pleaded for the return of her “valuable” mother in an emotional video they shared on the social media, offering to pay a ransom, New York Post reported.

“We received your message and we understand,” Savannah Guthrie said on Instagram, alongside her brother Camron and sister Annie.

“We beg you now to return our mother to us, so that we can celebrate with her,” she added, later saying that her mother’s return is “very valuable to us” and “we will pay.”

It remains unknown what message Savannah and her family referred to, whether it was one of the messages sent to news stations, or a completely new one.

They said they were ready to respond to the ransom notes, but first they needed to be sure the notes were genuine.

“We, too, have heard the reports about a ransom letter in the media. As a family, we are doing everything that we can. We are ready to talk,” Savannah said, adding a plea for proof of life: “We need to know without a doubt that she is alive and that you have her. We want to hear from you, and we are ready to listen. Please. Reach out to us.”

Previously,  TMZ reported to have received a ransom note regarding Nancy’s disappearance.

“So, we got something in our email that looks like a, it’s written like a ransom note for Savannah Guthrie’s mother,” TMZ’s Harvey Levin said.

He added that the note requests “a very specific” amount of money.

“And, also, at the bottom there are certain things they’re saying about what she was wearing and damage to the house to say, ‘It’s us,’” Levin explained. “So, we have contacted the sheriff’s department and we want to get them this letter.”

The outlet reported that they couldn’t verify if the email was genuine, but it seemed to include details that only someone close to the situation would know. “There’s a demand for money or else in there. We’ll keep you updated as this develops,” Levin said.

Officials with the Pima County Sheriff’s Department confirmed that some “possible random notes” have appeared in connection with the case, but they didn’t confirm whether any of them are real. Police also wouldn’t say whether the note TMZ reported is authentic or just the work of a hoaxer.

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In the wake of her mother’s disappearance, Savannah Guthrie has stepped back from her duties on the Today show and has appealed to the public to keep her mother in their prayers.

“We believe in prayer. We believe in voices raised in unison, in love, in hope. We believe in goodness. We believe in humanity. Above all, we believe in Him,” Savannah wrote.

“Thank you for lifting your prayers with ours for our beloved mom, our dearest Nancy, a woman of deep conviction, a good and faithful servant. Raise your prayers with us and believe with us that she will be lifted by them in this very moment.”

She concluded, “We need you. He will keep in perfect peace those whose hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord.” A verse from Isaiah, “for all time, for all of us. Bring her home.”

The effort to find Nancy Guthrie continues, with officials warning the public to rely only on confirmed reports from law enforcement as the investigation moves forward.

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Love and Peace

5-year-old girl dies days after undergoing tonsil surgery

By
Monica Pop
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Amber Milnes, a five-year-old girl from St Just in Roseland, Cornwall, passed away days after she had undergone tonsil removal surgery at the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro on 5 April 2023.

The little girl suffered from sleep apnoea, a condition where your breathing stops and starts while you sleep.

However, while most children who undergo this type of surgery are discharged from the hospital the same day, Amber suffered from yet another condition known as cyclical vomiting syndrome (CVS). It is a condition when you experience cycles of severe nausea, vomiting and exhaustion that can last from a few hours up to a few days.

According to My Cleveland Clinic, CVS can continue for months, years, or even decades, but symptoms don’t appear daily. Most people experience episodes a few times a year, though in some cases they can happen as often as once or twice a month.

For each individual, the symptoms, timing, frequency, severity, and duration of episodes are usually consistent. However, these factors can differ from one person to another.

As Amber suffered from this condition, it left her dehydrated and in need of medical help over the years.

Because of this, her parents believed the girl should stay at the hospital over night following her tonsils removal surgery, but despite their request, she was discharged the same day.

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In the morning of April 6, she started vomiting. When her parents called the hospital, they were told to monitor their daughter and only call back if symptoms won’t improve. At around 10 p.m. that same day, they took Amber back to the hospital after she vomited around 20 times.

Amber was given intravenous (IV) fluids and medications, including pain relief, treatment for vomiting, and antibiotics because she was found to have a chest infection. However, complications arose that severely limited her treatment.

On April 9, the little girl suffered a fatal haemorrhage, which was likely caused by an infection in the part of her throat where her tonsils had been removed. Sadly, she passed away that same day.

In November 2025, a two-day inquest into Amber’s death was held at Cornwall Coroner’s Court.

During the hearing, Amber’s parents, Lewis and Sereta Milnes, described how their daughter was the “happiest little girl” who bravely dealt with medical treatment. They said: “Amber was and always will be our magical little princess. She lit up our home with her singing, her dancing, her laughter and her heart of gold,” Metro reported.

“Bam, as everyone would call her, was the girliest of girls who loved doing girly stuff, like playing with princesses and babies. She absolutely loved music and singing. She filled our family home with love and fun as she sang and pranced around and when we were out on the road in the car the music didn’t stop.”

They described Amber as “cuddly, affectionate, and very, very caring,” always looking out for family members by holding their hands and gently stroking their heads when they weren’t feeling well. “Amber was the happiest little girl, and almost always smiling, but she was also a very brave person, and those qualities came to the fore when she first started getting poorly at the age of two,” they said.

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“Once she had started vomiting, she was in and out of hospital on a regular basis, which was tough on her, tough on us all, but she took it all in her stride. Amber was so strong and when she felt sick she just got on with it.

“When she had to go into hospital, it was her choice because she was ready to go in, with no fuss and because she knew the doctors and nurses wanted to make her feel better.”

Senior Coroner Andrew Cox provided a narrative conclusion, giving a detailed account of the circumstances surrounding Amber’s death. He determined that she died from a “known but very rare complication: catastrophic haemorrhage caused by infection after a surgical procedure (adenotonsillectomy).”

He said there was nothing unusual about the surgery itself, but serious questions were raised about what happened afterward. Specifically, he questioned whether doctors fully understood how Amber’s cyclical vomiting syndrome (CVS) could affect her recovery when they decided to send her home just hours after surgery instead of keeping her in hospital overnight.

He also pointed out that the surgeon and the anaesthetist did not fully know about Amber’s CVS before the operation, even though her parents had shared that information. The coroner said this could have made a difference when it came to assessing risks and deciding how closely she should have been monitored afterward.

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According to Metro, the doctor who performed the surgery, Kel Anyanwu, said he had never witnessed anyone dying from a tonsillectomy before.

He also mentioned that the consent form Amber’s parents signed did not mention the risk of death and described her situation as “unique.”

As of the decision to discharge the girl mere hours following the surgery, Anyanwu said, “The conversation was let’s see how she’s managing three, four, five hours after.

“The assumption was that if she was fine, she will probably be ok. The decision was made later when we saw her, that she is fine, she can go.”

In a statement issued after the inquest, Dr Merry Kane, the chief medical officer at Royal Cornwall Hospitals NHS Trust, expressed sympathy with Amber’s parents.

“Our hearts go out to Amber’s family; the death of a child is utterly devastating.

“We have all learned from Amber’s tragic death. We remain committed to learning and ensuring that every child and family receives the highest standard of care.

“Since Amber’s death, we have introduced new guidelines on caring for children with obstructive sleep apnoea following adenotonsillectomy. We will continue to do everything we can to increase awareness of CVS.”

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Love and Peace

I bought our dream home and on day one, my husband moved his family in without asking—that night, they were stunned by what they saw inside

By
Monica Pop
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0

After so much time, I finally bought our dream house. Like, actually bought it. My name was on the mortgage, and the little white fence, the porch swing, and the tiny garden that smelled like real life made it all real. I walked in for the first time thinking, “Well, this is it. It finally happened.” At the end of the day there was a lot I should be thankful for, but mainly for my space and my freedom.

And then Justin walked in. You know that grin he gets when he thinks he’s nailed a surprise? Yeah, that one. Only this time, it was neither charming nor playful. On the contrary, it was sort of victorious. Like he had just solved some huge puzzle. He looked at me, all wide-eyed excitement, and said, dead serious:

“Mom’s coming. So is my sister. And the kids. They’ll be living here. You don’t get a say.”

I laughed. I mean, I had to laugh, right? Because I was sure I had either misheard him or it was some sort of a joke you tell when you want to be mean. But no, he kissed my cheek like I was a stranger and drove off to “pick them up.” Yes, just like that.

I was standing there, right in the middle of my brand-new living room, and all I could think of was Linda’s voice bouncing off the walls already. In our old place, I suffered an ordeal of insults from her. And now, when I thought I had finally outrun it, he was bringing his family straight into my dream house.

And that’s when I thought to myself, “Well, not here and not again,” and honestly, I meant it.

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Knowing how Justin was, I somehow knew something like this could be coming. When I thought about it, he never took my side, not once. His mom and sister were the most important people to him, and I was just someone who entered his life. His obsession with his family was so big that it made me feel like an intruder at times, and that’s never a good thing to feel when you are married.

But here’s the thing. This wasn’t really my first rodeo. No, because I’d been already preparing for this moment for months. You know how some people decorate to feel cozy? I decorated to claim territory. It felt like every corner, every shelf, every photo, every scent was me, and although it was all subtle, I believed it was enough to show everyone that this new place was simply mine.

And, honestly, I had a few small surprises ready too. Nothing overly dramatic, just some things that would make anyone used to bullying people pause just long enough to realize the rules had changed. Let’s call it strategic home ownership.

By the time they pulled up that evening, the porch light was on and the place felt peaceful.

Linda came first, of course. She dragged her suitcases, full-on confidence, acting like she owned the place already. Her daughter, who had declared me the enemy the moment she laid eyes on me, followed after her mother. Her kids started running around and acted as though they were at the local playground, not someone’s place.

However, when they walked in, they froze all of a sudden.

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Justin starred at me and his mother’s mouth opened but she didn’t really say anything. Her daughter stopped mid-step, and even the kids went silent, because they two sensed something was odd.

My husband and his dear family stumbled upon something they barely expected to see.

Everything in that house screamed ME. I had already stuck the cabinets with all of my mugs, placed all of my books on the shelves, and placed a bunch of photos of myself all around the house. It’s safe to say that the place tried to say, This is mine. Not yours.

And the tiny surprises I was telling you about? Well, one of them had already gone off. It was a motion sensor in the hallway that squeaked when they passed by. You can’t even imagine the face Linda made when she heard the sound. Her daughter, too. She almost dropped her phone.

My husband’s “they’ll just settle in” smile was nowhere to be seen because he realized he didn’t have an ally in me when it came to his family.

I didn’t say a single word, not even a simple “hi.” And honestly, I didn’t even need to say anything, because my house itself sent the message I was trying to deliver, that it was my place, not theirs.

I have to admit that although I did my best to keep my calm, I was nervous because I knew this plan of mine would either work or blew up in my face. The entire time, I was repeating to myself, “This is your house. This is your life. You’ve got this.”

Then Linda stepped closer, probably thinking she could intimidate me, but I didn’t even glance at her directly. I just let her take it in. She had trained people to obey, to shrink, to bend under her weight. But this house… this house obeyed no one but me.

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And then came the funniest part, well, at least in my head. One of the kids reached for a toy, but it had been “redecorated” with a tiny harmless surprise I’d left. They screamed. Not a normal kid scream, like, “oh no my toy!” scream but a sharp little shriek that echoed through the room.

Linda spun around, ready to boss everyone, because that’s what she was best at, but the words just died in her throat. She suddenly got it: she’d stepped into my space, my house, where I called the shots.

Justin whispered my name, almost like a warning, but also like, “Oh god, what have we done?”

I just smiled quietly, but not in a mean way, because at the end of the day, I was never a mean person. I just wasn’t scared any more because I had nothing to lose. Shrinking myself so that my mother-in-law and sister-in-law feel bigger was in the past. I did such things when I was afraid of offending them or losing my husband who’d always choose them over me. But did I even need a man like that in my life. I didn’t think so.

And you know the best part? Watching Justin feeling as uncomfortable as it could get. He knew I always obeyed him and his family, so he expected me to do the same. But no, not this time, baby.

By the end of the evening, they didn’t stay. Not because I made them leave but because they realized they had no control over me any longer, and they wouldn’t stay where they weren’t in charge of everything.

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And me? Later that night, I sat on the porch swing with a glass of wine and for the first time in years I felt like I regained myself.

The next couple of days were hilarious. Justin tried to “negotiate.” He asked if maybe his mom could come just for a weekend. I said, “Sure, if she enjoys sleeping outside.” Deadpan. He looked like I’d just told him the moon was made of cheese.

Linda sent me a text—can you believe it? A text asking if we could “talk.” I left it unread. That’s the thing about freedom: you get to decide who’s worth your energy.

What followed were moments I consider my personal wins. To be able to do the laundry at times I felt most appropriate, have my dinner in peace without Linda or her daughter commenting my cooking and wondering why the dish isn’t salty enough, and hanging whatever picture I love on the walls without asking for permission felt like the most liberating thing in the world.

I know that most people take these things for granted, but not me, not after spending years living with my husband’s family.

Today, I don’t need to explain my choices to people who don’t really appreciate me enough, nor I need to justify my decisions regarding my own life.

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And the best part? Seeing them try to act normal when they came back a week later. They moved through the house like it was some museum they weren’t allowed to touch. Linda kept glancing at the walls, probably waiting for some “oops, wrong house” moment.

Justin? He kept trying to explain himself. I just sipped my tea. Every time he started with, “Well, maybe we could…” I let him finish and then said, “Or maybe not.” After that, he didn’t argue. He got it. I was simply not negotiating anymore. Ever again.

Conclusion

At the end of the day, it all comes down to this: having your own space, living by your own rules, and being able to make choices without someone else controlling you. That freedom is what really matters.

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Love and Peace

The baby cried for three days—doctors blamed colic and prescribed treatment but the crying wouldn’t stop

By
Monica Pop
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0

For most parents, dangers look obvious and often come in the form of a hot stove, sharp edges around the house, open sockets, and even pieces of furniture that can tip over. This is one of the reasons why many moms and dads out there baby-proof the home, read manuals, watch videos, and convince themselves that if they do everything right then nothing could go wrong with their little ones.

So, it’s safe to say that parents mainly look for dangers that are loud, obvious, visible, and even dramatic.

The following story is about such a moment. A moment in which a family could lose what mattered most; their child. It is also a moment that forced one father warn other parents out there that they should never ignore it when something about their child looks out of the ordinary, not even the slightest details.

The couple had always been planners, never leaving anything to chance.

They made a bunch of plans before they decided to get married, planned every detail when they were about to purchase their first apartment, and when they learned they were going to become parents, that’s when they got into a full planning mood. A huge piles of books on how to raise a child, parenting classes late into the night, a bunch of videos on feeding, bathing, sleep routines, and emergency care, you name it.

They made lists, created schedules, and discussed and double-checked every decision that made about the bundle of joy they were about to welcome in their lives.

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And yes, as everyone who knew them expected, their apartment was transformed too. They covered every electrical outlet in the house, even those the child wouldn’t even reach until turning at least 3. Also, they padded every sharp corner, secured all the cabinets, and removed every loose rug from every room. All in all, these two removed anything that they considered a possible danger. For them, preparation was simply protection.

Finally, when the little one was welcomed into the world, everything felt perfect. The baby was always calm, never cried without stopping, and even when he did started crying, they could easily calm him down by either feeding or rocking. Even the pediatrician loved how easy that baby was.

Months passed by, and honestly, nothing about raising that child ever felt overwhelming for his mom and dad. They even joked, quietly, that maybe they were just lucky, but they had no idea how fragile that sense of calm really was.

And then, one night changed everything.

At first, it didn’t sound like a big deal.

The baby began to whine softly in his crib, but every child does. That’s what they do, sometimes for no apparent reason.

It was the type of noise parents know right away, like not full crying but a little discomfort. His mother held him, rocked him, and whispered to him, and after a while, he got quiet. But then, it started again.

One hour passed. Then another. The whining grew a little more shrill. By evening, it was full-blown, inconsolable crying. Not the usual crying that was a sign of him being hungry or maybe tired. This was different.

They tried everything they usually would, but this time, nothing really helped.

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His mother couldn’t get him to calm down. He wouldn’t settle in his crib, and suddenly, his cheeks flushed and his breathing became shallow.

The father paced, cradled him to his chest and started rocking him as softly as he could. The mother tried feeding him once more. She changed his diaper, took his temperature, and swaddled him in a blanket. She then unswaddled him, fearing he could be too warm.

Despite all their efforts, the crying simply wouldn’t stop, and they weren’t used to seeing their baby cry that long or that much.

After a few hours, they could feel panic setting in so they took him to the emergency room. Better safe than sorry, right?

Doctors there examined the baby right away. They took his temperature and checked his vital signs, and then one of them said, “It’s just colic. Nothing unusual for an infant. There’s nothing to worry about, really.”

And honestly, the nurses made faces as though they were trying to say that new parents nowadays exaggerate things.

The parents were told that simple massages to the belly would eventually help. They also suggested soothing techniques and some drops.

Since that was what doctors said, the parents believed them and headed home.

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However, the next couple of days were a real struggle. The baby barely slept from crying that continued day and night.

He was also exhausted, and so were his mom and dad, who felt like their world was collapsing because they couldn’t help their little one.

Even when he calmed down, it only lasted for a few minutes, and then the crying continued again.

Anxiety started growing heavier with each passing hour. They felt useless and started questioning their sanity. They were obviously doing something wrong, but what was it? What was that they could do differently? Were they missing something that was obvious? Sadly, they had no answers. Still, they trusted the doctors’ diagnosis. That was one thing they didn’t question.

On the third night, the husband told his wife she had to go lie down.

“You really need some rest. You simply can’t go like this any longer,” he said to her. “I’ll take him, just get some rest.”

She didn’t like the idea, but she was too tired, so she agreed. The moment she went to bed, she passed down from exhaustion.

The father buckled the infant into a carrier on his chest and started pacing slowly from one room to the next without stopping or sitting. He just walked back and forth endlessly.

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Eventually, the crying softened a bit, and the screams seemed to turn into hoarse breathing. Finally, after days of constant crying, the apartment was silent again.

Once the baby was calm and and about to fall asleep, the dad sat next to him carefully, afraid he might disturb him again, and stared at him. And that’s when he noticed something off. One of the baby’s legs moved normally, while the other one barely moved at all.

It remained bent, rigid, and it looked as though the baby was trying to protect it.

He got scared because something could be awfully wrong, and doctors could have missed it.

He gently unbuttoned the baby’s clothing and looked at his legs even more carefully. At first, everything looked fine. Nothing obvious. There were no bruises or marks. But then he took his socks off and choked on his breath.

One foot, the one that moved normally, looked pink and warm. The other one was swollen, dark red, and hot. And there, between those tiny toes, was a strand of hair. The dad knew it was his wife’s hair, and it was wrapped deeply around the baby’s toes.

Not only was the hair tightened around the tiny toes, but it also caused cutting off blood flow.

The skin was swelling and starting to heal over it, pinning it in further. So every movement was making it even worse.

The father finally realized what was going on and why the baby kept crying and crying for days. It wasn’t colic, but likely a real, sharp pain.

He woke his wife right away and they headed to the ER right away. When they waved the baby’s leg at the doctors, the medics response was immediate.

Doctors moved quickly and nurses were called for help. The baby was taken away almost right away. The parents were told that if they delayed any longer, the damage could be irreversible.

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The baby was rushed to surgery.

Who knew that a strand of human hair can do so much damage to a child?

Doctors explained that what happened to the baby is medically known as hair tourniquet syndrome, a rare condition that can happen when a strand of hair or a thread of cloth wraps tightly around the baby’s toe, finger or another appendage. In extreme cases, blood flow to the baby’s limb can be blocked. If treatment is delayed, it may result in serious problems like tissue death or bone damage, potentially requiring amputation.

The parents now prayed their baby’s toes would be saved. They also started blaming themselves for not realizing the cause of the pain and the crying sooner. Only if they questioned the initial diagnosis, things wouldn’t get this serious. But the damage was done, and all they could do was wait and hope for the best outcome.

Fortunately, the surgery was successful, and the baby is now doing fine. His father now urges parents to check everything when they suspect something could be wrong with their baby.

Conclusion

This story is not about blame, but about staying informed.

Parents need to realize that danger doesn’t always announce itself with a bang and it doesn’t always look like a big deal.

If this story at least causes one parent to stop and take a closer look, and possibly see something that they would have missed otherwise—then it has been worth sharing.

Don’t forget that sometimes, concern means running a second look on the apparently innocuous.

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Bored Daddy

Love and Peace


My husband has been visiting his mother a lot. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but one day, just out of curiosity, he…

By
Monica Pop
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0

I’m sure there were times when you noticed a couple who seemed to belong together so perfectly that you wished you had the same connection with someone. For those who knew me and my husband, we were that couple.

People looked up to what we had. And yes, truth was that from the outside, we always seemed like the perfect couple. Almost too perfect when you think about it.

I remember our friends always making comments about how lucky the two of us were to have found each other, and somehow, I believed that was true, even when it wasn’t. But everyone around us admired the calm, strong family we appeared to have built together.

We had the house with the tidy garden, the car in the driveway, and a perfectly organized life. We smiled at parties, held hands in public, and shared inside jokes that only the two of us seemed to understand.

The truth? Well, just like with everyone else, our life together wasn’t that perfect. We had arguments, moments of tension, and the usual misunderstandings that any couple experiences every now and then. We often disagreed over finances, or how to spend our weekends. There were times when I felt like he wasn’t listening to me when I talked about my day, or he thought I was overreacting about small things that actually seemed important in my world.

But there was truly nothing that felt catastrophic, nothing that threatened the foundation of what we had, until about two years ago. That was when the first real cracks began to show in our relationship. You know, the ones that appear minor at first but just keep widening and widening until there is no going back.

The end of what my husband and I had been building together for years started subtly and suddenly.

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Out of the blue, my husband began visiting his mother more often than usual. And he always had the same excuses, that she was too old and too fragile to be taking care of the house or running errands.

Well, she did live alone on the outskirts of a small town nearby so I didn’t question it much at first. After all, helping your mother, especially one who lived alone, seemed like the right thing to do. What was not to admire about a son taking care of his mother? I knew I wanted my own children to be raised with those values.

However, the pattern started changing drastically. At the beginning, he visited his mother once in a couple of weeks, which honestly, seemed pretty normal to me. Just occasional visits and some help here and there. But in the last six months, the visits turned nearly daily. During weekdays, he’d visit his mom after work and he’d spend hours there, and during weekends, he even stayed there overnight, which was way too strange.

I didn’t know what to think. Maybe there was something going on with my mother-in-law that they wouldn’t tell me about. Maybe she needed her son’s help more than I realized. Who knew!?

However, no matter how much I tried not to think about my husband’s strange behavior, it was my friends who started noticing it, too. One evening, over coffee, one of them said, “Don’t you think it’s strange that he goes to the neighboring town every day? It seems… excessive.”

Another nodded. “Yeah, something’s clearly wrong. You should keep an eye on this.”

A third added, “Sorry to say this, but I think he might be hiding something. Go with him next time. See for yourself what’s happening at his mother’s. Cos trust me, this isn’t normal behavior.”

At first, I laughed it off and even pretended like I didn’t mind him spending so much time away from home, because at the end of the day he was still his mother’s son, but the seed of suspicion had been planted. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept imagining all kinds of scenarios, each one worse than the last. My mind went in circles until I realized there was only one way to find out the truth. My friends were right, I had to see for myself.

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I decided I would follow him the next time he went to his mother’s without telling him. I would pretend to be busy at home, wait until he left, and then trail him in my car.

Saturday morning arrived and he said his usual line as he prepared to leave: “See you tonight, my love. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I replied automatically, but inside, I thought something entirely different: No, my love. We’ll see each other tonight… whether you know it or not.

The trip to his mom’s town was as silent as it gets. I stayed back at a distance, a couple car lengths behind him. The town itself was small. Everybody was acquainted with each other, and a secret was something very hard to keep. I felt that twisting in my stomach as I trailed him down alleys until he stopped at his mother’s door.

I pulled up a little way off and waited. Minutes dragged out, growing longer and longer. Then I saw him walk in, and out of the window I saw something that stole my breath away.

It was not just his mother and himself who were in the house. There was also a young woman holding a baby in her arms standing next to him. My throat closed. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the planet.

I blinked and felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no. The truth was so much worse than anything I could have imagined.

I would learn the whole truth eventually. My mother-in-law, who never really liked me as her daughter-in-law, had been scheming for months—possibly years—to drive a wedge between my husband and me. And she had.

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I was aware she was trashing me behind my back and was telling my husband to leave me because I wasn’t worth to be his wife. But I never knew he would actually listen to her. I really couldn’t process the thought that he fell at her trap and ruined our lives just because his mother had another woman in mind that she saw as he daughter-in-law, her neighbor’s daughter.

The baby that young woman was carrying was my husband’s. It was around two months old, and it turned out my husband led a double life with his mother’s help. He convinced the woman he would eventually leave me and our children, but I guess he never gathered the courage.

So all those days he had said he was helping his mother, all those evenings he had claimed to be at her house for errands or chores, were lies. Every single one. He had maintaining two families, all under the same roof, in the same small town. He had been under pressure, yes, but the deceit was deliberate. Day after day, he had chosen to lie to me.

How could someone I trusted so deeply betray me like this? How could the person I loved the most lie to me every day, all while maintaining the illusion of a normal, happy life?

I didn’t confront him immediately. Part of me couldn’t even bear to speak to him. Instead, I drove home slowly, thinking, planning, trying to make sense of it all. I was so disappointed, and not much because of him, but because of the life I thought we had built together. That life, it seemed, had been a lie.

By the time I got home, I had made a decision. That same day, I left. I took my children, some of the basics I needed, and left him a note, though part of me wanted to scream and confront him face-to-face. But I knew my dignity and peace of mind mattered more than any confrontation with such a shameless man.

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A short time later, I filed for divorce. Honestly, it was painful, although I believed it wouldn’t after everything he had done to me. There were moments when I doubted myself, when I wondered if I had acted too quickly, if perhaps I had misread the situation. But in the end, there was no doubt in my heart. I had chosen myself. I had chosen honesty, transparency, and a life where I could sleep at night without wondering who was really telling the truth.

Now I look back and see how much strength I found within myself through that. It was one of the most excruciating periods of my life, but it was also transformative. I learned that nothing is quite as it seems, that even those closest to us can betray us in unimaginable ways, and that, at times, the best way to get better is to get the hell out.

Friends still ask me from time to time, about him, about how I made it through. I don’t share everything with them, I just tell them I trusted my instincts. I recognized the truth for what it is. And I would not allow anyone else’s lies to determine the course of my life.

To the outside world, I may have looked as if I were shattered, lonely, and lost. But inside, I was stronger than I had ever been.

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Five-year-old girl won’t sit at school — teacher sees something wrong with her skirt, cries, and calls 911

By
Monica Pop
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0

It was one of those days when the sun was already streaming through the large windows in the classroom at Oakwood Elementary while the students were getting inside, ready to start the day. The morning felt normal in all the right ways, you know, a kind of morning beloved by teachers, because there’s no reason for things to go wrong.

It was just another Tuesday. Nothing special about it at all.

Margaret Coggins had been a kindergarten teacher for many years. Once she greeted all of her students, she put the books back, crossed off the attendance list, and as always, made sure nobody glued their fingers together.

And while nothing seemed out of the ordinary, she suddenly heard a strange noise coming from the back of her classroom.

At first, she ignored it because classrooms can be chaotic and loud, and every teacher knows that all too well. Kids tend to sniffle and scrape the chairs. They also love chatting to one another, and even get man about a bunch of silly things. However, the noise Margaret heard wasn’t a usual one. To her, it sounded like someone was trying not to cry. So she paused, and there it was again. A soft sob that wouldn’t let her continue with her work before making sure everyone was fine.

Margaret walked around the classroom and stopped at a desk near the wall. It was Lily Rosewood’s desk.

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To Margaret’s surprise, Lily was not in her chair but curled up under it.

She was hunched over with her arms around her stomach and her knees pulled to her chest. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes puffy from tears falling down to the floor. Lily’s hair wasn’t in a ponytail as usual and her clothes appeared as if she had been rolling in the dirt in them.

Margaret was confused. “Lily,” she said. “Hey, honey. What’s going on?”

Lily kept her head down, and when she finally looked at her teacher, she said, “It hurts. It hurts really bad.”

Margaret had concerned for Lily for quite some time. Because of some reason, she didn’t act like the rest of the children. For example, she never stood still during lesson time. On the contrary, she’d move around and be restless all the time. During breaks, she’d hide near the fence or just stay inside. The rest of the teachers said Lily showed signs of separation anxiety and tried to assure Margaret that it was normal, just kids’ stuff. But Margaret had a feeling it wasn’t just that.

“Can you show me where you’re hurting?” she asked softly.

Lily shook her head hard. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a secret,” Lily said. “Grandma says secrets should be kept secrets.”

Margaret didn’t ask more questions because she could feel the girl was scared and didn’t want to make her feel even more uncomfortable.

Instead, she took Lily’s hand and said, “Okay. But let’s go see the nurse.”

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Lily tried to stand but her legs crumpled beneath her. The rest of the kids went silent and everyone was looking at Lily. They also got scared because they had no idea what was going on.

Margaret was on the floor in seconds, rolling Lily onto her side. The girl’s skin was pale and there was a strange smell.

“Emma!” Margaret called to her aide. “Get the nurse. Now.”

“You’re okay,” Margaret tried to calm Lily down. “You don’t have to do this all on your own now.”

When the school day finally ended and all the kids went home, Margaret opened Lily’s file.

Three months prior, her grandmother, Martha Rosewood, had signed Lily up.

Margaret recalled that first meeting with Martha who seemed tired but polite. She explained back then that Lily’s father was away and her mother was nowhere to be found and that it was just the two of them.

When Margaret asked more questions, Martha wouldn’t answer. She just smiled and said, “That’s family business” and was quick to leave the place.

Well, at the time, Margaret didn’t find that strange. She just thought the elderly lady was probably through a lot raising a young child together and she didn’t think there could be more to the story. But after the incident that day, Margaret though differently about Martha’s words and behavior.

Instead of heading straight home that afternoon, Margaret decided to pay Lily a visit at home. She needed to be sure the girl was okay.

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The house was a small one and was at the outskirts of town. The first thing Margaret noticed was that no one was checking the mail because the mailbox was stuffed with a bunch of letters and papers. The garden was a mess as well.

Margaret knocked, and after a long pause, the door opened.

Martha was standing there in a robe. “Can I help you?” she said.

Inside, the house smelled the same as Lily’s clothes had. There were dishes piled up all over and laundry in heaps in the corners. The air was heavy, too hot.

Margaret asked, “Where’s Lily?”

“She helps me,” Martha said vaguely. “I have a memory lapse once in a while. But Lily remembers.”

And that’s when Lily appeared from the hallway still dressed in her school clothes. She was holding cleaning rags and the moment she spotted her teacher, she panicked.

“You’re not taking me away, are you?” Lily asked, and it was obvious she was scared. “I been good. I clean up my messes. Grandma forgets, so I do it. I promise.”

Margaret knelt in front of her. “What messes, Lily?”

Lily said as quietly as she could, “The ones I’m not supposed to talk about.”

It was then that Margaret’s doubts cleared. No one actually looked after Lily, but she was looking after herself. Her needs weren’t met, and she struggled.

Margaret asked, “How long has this been going on?”

Lily answered, “Always.”

This teacher knew this had to stop. Lily needed help. And not just her,her grandmother who was obviously battled dementia, too.

The following day, Margaret rang Dr. Lisa Chen, the paediatrician she had faith in. Lily sat silently in the exam room, scared and anxious. The poor little child asked her teacher if she was broken.

Margaret squeezed her hand. “You’re not.”

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Dr. Chen diagnosed Lily with a congenital condition that was treatable. The girl understood that someone would finally help her, so she started crying, not because she was scared but because she was relieved.

Sadly, they also determined that her grandmother couldn’t take care of her any longer.

Martha suffered a heart attack just days later, and Lily needed to be placed somewhere safe. For her, however, that meant yet another shock and change.

“She’s not going with strangers,” Margaret told social services. “She’s coming with me.”

Six months later, Margaret and Lily found themselves at the courtroom.

Lily was wearing a sunny yellow dress and stood beside Margaret. Her tiny hand slipped into Margaret’s and she smiled for the first time in a very long time. Her eyes no longer held fear inside them. Instead, there was hope in them.

The judge looked at both of them and said, “Do you vow to love and protect this child as your own?”

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Margaret blinked back tears. The heart of this teacher was full. “I do,” she said softly but with conviction, the greatest perhaps ever heard in a courtroom.

They came out of the courthouse, hand in hand, and at last they felt like a family. The sun came through onto their faces, and even the air seemed somehow lighter. Lily looked up at Margaret and held her hand.

That night, Lily settled into her new bed and pulled the yellow bedspread up over her. Into the silent room she asked: “Would you say my story has a happy ending?”

Margaret bent down and kissed her forehead softly. “I think,” she said with a smile, “it’s just getting started.”

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They kicked me and my baby granddaughter out of the café into the rain—then justice arrived

By
Monica Pop
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0

It was pouring outside, like one of those days when you feel like the entire world would just crumble. My granddaughter was hungry, so I entered a café in order to feed her, but we were kicked out like we were a piece of trash, not two human beings in need of a quick stop during an awful weather. Next thing, someone called the cops on me and my face was all over the newspaper.

When I gave birth to my daughter, Sarah, I was 41. And yes, I was a proud mother to an awesome child. Everyone who had ever met my girl praised her for her generosity and kindness. She truly was one of a kind.

At 31, she fell pregnant. The moment I learned I was going to become a grandmother was the best day of my life. Everything was about to change with a tiny bundle of joy being welcomed in our lives. Sadly, I had no idea that change would be a painful one.

My daughter died while giving birth.

In those moments of pain and grief, Sarah’s boyfriend said he couldn’t handle a child on his own. He simply wasn’t ready for being a single dad, so he asked me to take care of his and Sarah’s daughter. Without even realizing it, I became the baby’s sole guardian. And her father, well, he only sends small checks every month; money not even for diapers, let alone food, clothes, or toys.

Today, it’s just me and her, my Amy.

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Things aren’t perfect because taking care of a baby at 72 is as hard as it sounds. But I’m the only person she has, and I try to stay strong for her, and that’s the only option, really.

That day at the pediatrician’s office didn’t go out as planned. Amy was unusually cranky. She just wouldn’t stop crying, and I prayed we go through her check-up as quickly as possible.

Once we were done, we got outside, but the weather was already horrible. It was raining heavily, and I had no idea what to do or how to get home. And that’s when I spotted a café nearby.

I covered Amy’s stroller with my coat and we entered the place.

It was one of those cozy places, perfect for a rainy day.

We found an empty seat near the window and I placed the stroller beside me. However, Amy started crying again, and she wouldn’t stop no matter what I did.

And then, just as I tried to feed the baby, the woman sitting opposite us made a loud comment. “Hey, lady. This isn’t day care. People come here to relax, not to listen to some baby screaming.”

The man who was with her said the same. “Why don’t you take that baby and just leave?”

I was so embarrassed that I wanted to disappear. But there was nowhere I could go at that rain.

“I’m sorry for her crying. She’s just hungry. Once I feed her she’ll stop,” I said.

“Couldn’t you do that in your car? Really? If you don’t know how to calm your baby why are you even taking it out?”

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The waitress could hear the conversation before she even attended my table.

“Listen, lady, maybe it would be better to feed the baby outside and get inside once she calms down. You do see other customers complain.”

I looked around, hoping some of the guests would stand for an old lady and a baby, but no, that didn’t happen.

Honestly, I had no idea what to do at that moment. And while I was reconsidering my options, which were almost non-existent, two police officers entered the place. They looked around and then one of them turned to me and said, “Good afternoon, Ma’am. We were told you’re disturbing other customers here. Is that true?”

Oh God, could this really be happening? Did someone really called the police at a 72-year-old woman with a baby? Had this world gone mad all of a suddden?

“The manager spotted us outside and called us over. What is the problem here?” they asked.

“Officers, I was planning on ordering something. But I need to feed my granddaughter first. Once she has her mil she’ll fall asleep. I swear. There won’t be any trouble. It’s raining and I’m with a baby, don’t you understand?”

One of the officers turned to the waitress and said, “So you want to tell me the ‘disturbance’ was just a baby crying?”

The waitress nodded.

“Really? The manager said you caused a scene and refused to leave when asked,” he said to me.

“No, I swear that’s not what happened. I told the waitress I’ll order something the moment the baby is fed.”

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The waitress then turned to the officers and said, “See, she won’t leave and the customers are getting angry.”

“Well, not as angry as that baby, who is clearly hungry,” the younger officer said, pointing to Amy.

“Know what? My sister has three kids. I’m a wizard with babies,” the officer said and took Amy. To everyone’s surprise, she called down immediately. “I guess the disturbance is over,” the officer said.

But still, the waitress and the manager insisted I needed to leave the place because I hadn’t ordered anything. As though I even had the chance to do it.

“You know what, bring us three cups of coffee and three slices of apple pie with ice cream. It’s cold outside, but ice cream and pie are always good for the soul,” the older officer said, then nodded toward his younger partner, who was still holding Amy, to join us at the table.

All of a sudden, both the waitress and the manager became polite.

The officers introduced themselves as Christopher and Alexander. We talked for a while and I shared how my daughter passed away at childbirth and how I ended up being my granddaughter’s guardian. I also explained what happened at the coffee place.

“Don’t worry ma’am. I just knew the manager made the situation sound way worse than it actually was the moment I entered the place,” Alexander said. “You are doing your best to take care of your granddaughter. You should be proud of yourself.”

Before the four of us left the place, Alexander asked me if he could take a photo of me and Amy. “For the report,” he said.

“Of course,” I said, “Go ahead.”

The had stopped already, and Amy and I headed home.

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A few days later, I got a call from one of my neighbors. She was overly excited and kept asking me if I had seen it. “See what?” I asked, totally confused.

“Well, the newspaper,” she said.

“No, I haven’t. I barely have the time to have coffee, let alone read the newspaper.”

“Oh, Maggy. You are in the newspaper and your story is everywhere.”

It turned out that Alexander sent the photo of me and Amy to his sister, a local reporter. She was disturbed by the way we were treated at the coffee place and thought that sharing the story would help the community realize how vulnerable some of its members are. She wanted to remind everyone that we should be compassionate and kind. Because when you think about it, it’s those qualities in people that make this world go round.

A few days later, I met Alexander. He smiled at me and apologized for not asking me first before sending the photo to his sister. But I wasn’t mad, not at all. On the contrary, I was glad my story served as an example.

However, it turned out that people got mad at the cafe’s manager and the waitress, so they placed a sing on their door that read, “Babies are welcomed.”

Amy and I visited the coffee place a few days later. This time, the waitress greeted us with a smile. She tried to apologize for treating us badly, and I said it was fine. Well, everyone can make a mistake every now and then, right?

I ordered coffee and a piece of apple pie. When she brought the order, she said, “Enjoy it, it’s on the house.”

I was glad that the negative experience turned into something positive in the end.

And yes, I made sure I left a big tip that day.

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Love and Peace

Three Dog Night star Chuck Negron dies at 83 – cause of death revealed

By
Monica Pop
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0

Chuck Negron, a founding member of Three Dog Night, passed away Monday, February 2, after battling multiple health issues.

Negron provided the unmistakable lead vocals on classics such as Joy to the World, One, An Old Fashioned Love Song, Easy to Be Hard, and The Show Must Go On, during the band’s peak in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

According to his publicist, Negron passed away at his home in Studio City, California, “surrounded by his loving family,” People reported.

“Negron was a testament to never giving up – persevering through everything life throws at you, everything you may throw at yourself, and striving on,” his publicist said in a statement. 

UNITED STATES – OCTOBER 02: Photo of THREE DOG NIGHT and Chuck NEGRON and Cory WELLS and Danny HUTTON; Posed group portrait L-R Danny Hutton, Chuck Negron and Cory Wells (Photo by Jim McCrary/Redferns)

The musician was born on June 8, 1942, and was raised in the Bronx by his father, Charles Negron, a Puerto Rican nightclub performer, and his mother, Elizabeth Rooke. Following his parents’ divorce, when Negron was just two, he grew up singing in doo-wop groups and playing basketball from an early age, eventually earning a basketball recruitment to California State University that brought him to Los Angeles, where he began working in the music industry.

At just 15, Negron, who eventually ended up powering a run of chart-topping hits that came to define rock and pop radio during the late ’60s and early ’70s, recorded his debut single and took the stage at the iconic Apollo Theater with his vocal group, The Rondells.

Speaking to the Rapid City Journal in 2004, recalled that night, saying, “We were not just only the white group in the building. But by our second verse, something magical happened. The audience started to cheer us on.”

While in LA, where he attended California State University on a basketball scholarship, Negron teamed up with Danny Hutton and the late Cory Wells to form Three Dog Night in 1967.

Despite massive success, the band collapsed amid internal conflicts and drug use. Negron later reconciled with Hutton after decades of estrangement, and after overcoming addiction, rebuilt his life and career as a solo artist.

In his memoir, Three Dog Nightmare, Negron shared his harrowing journey, writing of the times he rose to fame, his addictions, his near death-experiences, and how he managed to recover.

Negron had been living with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) for decades, but that didn’t prevent him from touring. He only stopped amid the COVID-19 pandemic.

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Chuck Negron was married four times, including to Paula Louise Ann Goetten, Julia Densmore, Robin Silna, and later his manager, Ami Albea, whom he wed in a socially distanced ceremony in 2020. He was the father of five children, including daughters Shaunti, Charlie, and Annabelle Negron, as well as son Chuckie Negron and stepson Berry Oakley Jr.

According to his publicist, the cause of death was complications from COPD and heart failure.

“Through his six decades of success, and all the ups-and-downs, his large, unconventional family was most important to him,” his publicist said.

Rest in peace, Chuck Negron.

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