Kobe Williams, 27, tragically lost her father after making a serious vow to shield her newborn twins, Khyzier and Khazmir, from Hurricane Helene’s fury. Kobe, who was hoping to protect her one-month-old sons from the storm’s destructive force, sought shelter in her home in Thomson, Georgia, but fate had other ideas.
Kobe and her twins were the youngest known victims of Hurricane Helene, which ripped through Georgia, killing 33 people and leaving a path of destruction in its wake. Their family was devastated by the storm, which had already wreaked havoc over the Southeast of the United States.
She had a conversation with Obie Williams, Kobe’s father, mere moments prior to the unfortunate event. Kobe told him that she would heed his instructions and take cover in the toilet with her babies when the storm grew stronger. However, Obie received no response when he attempted to reach her again after a short while.
Later, after navigating over broken power lines and fallen trees, Kobe’s brother arrived at her house. When he got there, he discovered an unbelievable sight of destruction—a big tree had fallen through the roof, right where Kobe and her pups had taken refuge. Not one of them made it.
Kobe, a devoted and resilient mother, had postponed her aspirations to become a nurse assistant in order to focus on raising her sons. Her family is now forced to mourn the premature deaths of a mother and two innocent people due to one of the deadliest storms in American history.
My Granddaughter Forced Me Out for Getting Married at 80 — I Couldn’t Stand the Disrespect & Gave Her a Lesson to Remember
After my granddaughter ousted me for marrying at 80, I couldn’t accept her disrespect. Together with my new husband, Harold, we crafted a bold plan to teach her an unforgettable lesson, culminating in a family-altering confrontation.
I never imagined sharing this tale, but here it is. My name is Margaret, and I celebrated my 80th birthday last spring. I resided in a small, personalized room within my granddaughter Ashley’s home, surrounded by keepsakes of my life.
“Morning, Grandma,” Ashley would say, bursting into my room unannounced. She never knocked.
“Morning, dear,” I’d reply, tidying up my space. “What’s the hurry?”
“We’re off to the park with the kids. Need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Enjoy your day.”
After she rushed off, I reflected alone. I couldn’t complain much; after all, I had sold my house to fund her college education after her parents died tragically when she was 15.
I took her in and strived to provide a good life. Now, she lived here with her husband, Brian, and their two children, in a home that was always bustling.
Things took a turn when I met Harold at the community center months ago. He was charming, always with a camera around his neck. Our chats soon became the highlight of my week, offering a second shot at love.
One day, while Ashley was at work, I decided to share my news. I found her in the kitchen that evening, busy with a recipe book.
“Ashley, I have something to tell you,” I started.
She looked up, “What is it, Grandma?”
“I’ve met someone. His name is Harold, and… he proposed.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Proposed? You mean, marriage?”
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