Hey everyone, I'm Ben and I've been dealing with some things. Let me start by telling you all that I KNOW that's a ludicrous amount to ask the world for, with all of the worthy causes out there. But, since you're here, let me tell you all a story... Over 20 years ago now (seems a lot more recent, tbh) I made contact with my bio-mom after some considerable detective work, because the records were closed. Not only did I get her, I got a half-brother in the bargain! Fun story, my mom and I were acquainted before we knew who the other was. See, back in 1988, I was working at the Scarborough Renaissance festival, and one morning I noticed the portrait of a young boy that bore a striking resemblance to me as a child. I started talking to the portrait painter and mentioned it, and she told me it was a painting of her son. Yup, it was the Mom, and the painting was my brother. We spoke, at least in passing, several times that season, no idea who the other was. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. This apple? Didn't really even fall off the tree. I'm sure my hand and eye come from her. When we connected years later, we spoke like old friends and were always able to just pick up like... well, family. But let's jump ahead. Several years ago, while working at TRF, I got a frantic voicemail from my brother, asking that if I ever loved them, to please call him back. As soon as I got it, I called and got a confusing story with a horrific conclusion. Our mother had been murdered in the night, shot in her own bed. My brother's daughter was in protective custody because the murderer had taken her and her three children hostage, then let them go. I booked the next flight I could up to Washington, and drove into town. The police had asked me to come to the station first, and there I learned the truth. My half-neice(?), my brother's daughter, and her boyfriend had killed our mother. It was put on me to explain this all to my brother, who had just lost everything. I did my best, and after a quick flight back home to gather things, I moved in. He inherited 2.1 million, initially offering me half. I refused out of good faith. The Mom had always told me that he shouldn't live alone, and I tried. Eventually moving my girlfriend up there, we tried to fix what we could of the finances, started the probate on the house, and helped wrap up the police investigation. But things got messy and one day he announced that he wanted us out. After talking things through, he said he'd buy us a house as long as it was under 180k, and he'd take care of everything. Taking him at his word, and a little reminder document we both signed, we left. On the day we drove out into a literal blizzard, towing a trailer, the house of my girlfriend's dreams went on the market. I'm not a big believer in divine providence, but this sure felt like it. The house is literally across the street from her mother's house, and one house down from her sister. We cook dinner, and share meals with her family often. We're part of her neice and nephew's lives, watching them grow up. After months up there, and a few months down here of slow communication, the house was bought and put into both my and my brother's name. The gift was a reality. For a few months, things seemed ok. Until my brother's daughter's trial finally came around, and he said that he was unable to bring himself to do the victim impact statements. He agreed that they were important, so I flew up and did them. Not long after, he became distant and one day, his Facebook was gone. I didn't think that much of it, but I tried to contact him elsewhere. I didn't realize it, but I was blocked. A few days later, a letter from a lawyer came, telling me to cease all contact. Since then, it has been one legal action after another. One to remove any legal ties, another suing me to remove my name from the title to the house in Washington. I didn't fight it, hoping against hope that that was the end of it. Then the hammer fell, and he sued me for what he spent on the house, claiming it was never a gift. We entered into an agreement to sell the house, him getting 125k, and me the rest. But not long after setting a price, the market here softened and just a few lowball flipper offers came in. This has dragged on for some time, and he's finally arrived at a weird Texas law. An owelty lein on the house would take his name off the deed, and I just have to pay it. And that brings us to now. I work 40+ when I can, and coach dialect on the side. All of you who know me from conventions also know COVID dried those up for years, and my time there has passed. My laser is so much junk in the garage, with me having neither the funds nor the expertise to revive it. Like so many of us, I'm paycheck to paycheck just paying bills. The house needs work, and to qualify for that owelty lein, it has to be insured. So here's where this RIDICULOUS GFM comes in. That total up there? That makes my brother go away. For good. Forever. It pays taxes, repairs, his lein, everything. Do I expect friends, colleagues, and strangers on the internet to make that happen? Absolutely not. But I've decided to tell my story, and Gretzky this thing. Want details? I've got em. Want to use this to pre-pay me for the book and movie rights? Let's talk. Just thought one of my lectures was funny or informative and would like to slip me a tenner? I'll thank you deeply and sincerely. I'm not a great guy. I've made some pretty awful mistakes. But no one deserves what this has done, especially to those closest to me. Help if you can, even if it's just a share. Thank you.
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