In the wake of the devastating floods that swept through Texas, a quiet act of kindness has touched the heart of 72-year-old Harold, a lifelong resident of Kerrville. Harold’s home, along with nearly all his belongings, was destroyed by the flood. He lost cherished memories—his wedding photos, his favorite books, and the rocking chair where he once sat, reading his Bible to the soft hum of music. Among the things washed away was a piece of his past, symbolized by the song “Remember When” by Alan Jackson, which he and his late wife used to dance to in their kitchen. The song was more than just music—it was a piece of their love story, now lost to the floodwaters.
As the devastation sank in, Harold, disheartened by the weight of starting over at his age, questioned whether he could ever rebuild. But one day, a knock on his door changed everything. Standing there was a young volunteer with a cap on his head, holding a simple but life-changing offer: “I’m from the Still Standing Fund—founded by Alan Jackson. Do you need help, sir?” At first, Harold thought he must have misheard. But soon enough, the sound of wood being cut and nails being hammered filled the air, as the volunteer, along with others, began to help rebuild his home. What Harold didn’t know at the time was that this act of kindness was backed by none other than Alan Jackson, the man whose music had been a lifelong companion to him.
“I used to call him my favorite singer,” Harold shared with gratitude, his voice filled with emotion. “But now… I call him a friend.” Alan Jackson’s generosity wasn’t just about the physical rebuilding of Harold’s home—it was a reminder that even in the darkest moments, no one should have to face hardship alone.
Alan’s actions have proven that a true hero isn’t just someone who fills stadiums with music, but someone who shows up when it matters most—offering a hand, a kind word, and the belief that it’s never too late to start again. For Harold, this simple act of kindness not only helped him rebuild his home but also reminded him of the power of community and the unspoken bond between an artist and his audience. Even at 72, Harold now knows that the ability to stand up again, to rebuild and to live with hope, comes when you’re not left alone—and that sometimes, a friend can come from the most unexpected of places.