It’s been a while since we reported that Fox News host Sean Hannity was divorcing his wife Jill Rhodes, who he had been married to for over twenty years. Now, steamy rumors have been swirIing that he is dating “Fox & Friends” host Ainsley Earhardt, and while they won’t confirm it, they aren’t denying it either.
Page Six reported that the rumors have spread like wildfire ever since Hannity, 58, and Earhardt, 43, were seen together during Iockdown near his home on Long Island, New York. Both sources are single, which has only added fuel to the fire in terms of the rumors.
The rumors started because Sean lives on Long Island, and Ainsley rented a house in the Hamptons during the pan demic, one source said. “Sean has a studio at his home, and Ainsley has been using his studio as her remote broadcast location for ‘Fox & Friends.’
They are 100 percent dating, a second source said, with a third adding, They have been quarantining together in Oyster Bay. They have been seen together in the area. Both Hannity and Earhardt reIeased statements through the same Fox News spokesperson in which they refused to confirm the rumors.
I do not discuss my personal life in public,” Hannity said, with Earhardt saying in her statement, “Right now I am focused on raising my daughter. As anyone at Fox News will tell you, Sean is a wonderfuI person and whomever he chooses to date will be extremely fortunate.
I am not dating anyone, she added in a follow-up statement. Earhardt divorced her husband, Clemson University quarterback Will Proctor, back in 2018. Together, they are parents to a 4 year-old daughter named Hayden. Hannity had been married to Rhodes since 1993, and they are the parents of a son, Patrick, and a daughter, Merri Kelly. Though their divorced was only just confirmed, friends say they had actually been divorced for over a year.
Sean and Jill are committed to working together for the best interests of their chiIdren. Amicable agreements were entered into over four years ago between Sean and Jill, Hannity and Rhodes said in a joint statement.
They maintain a close relationship as parents to their children. Neither will have any further comments and ask for the sake of their children that their privacy be respected.
THE DAY I LEARNED WHAT TRUE STRENGTH LOOKS LIKE
The sun beat down mercilessly, reflecting off the asphalt in shimmering waves. Sweat stung my eyes as I wrestled with the last stubborn lug nut. Another long day on the construction site, another day spent pushing my body to its limits. I was used to it. I was a construction worker, built like a bull, and pride myself on my strength. I could lift steel beams that would make most men wince, and I never backed down from a challenge.
Thirst gnawing at my throat, I stopped at the gas station, the promise of an icy soda beckoning. As I stepped out of my truck, I noticed an elderly man struggling with his car. His back was to me, but I could see his shoulders hunched, his hands trembling as he wrestled with a tire iron. Sweat stained his shirt, and he looked utterly defeated.
Something in his posture, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he seemed to shrink under the weight of the situation, tugged at my heartstrings. I walked over, a question forming on my lips. “Need a hand?”
He startled, turning to face me. His eyes, the color of faded denim, were filled with a mixture of surprise and apprehension. For a moment, he just stared, as if deciding whether to trust this hulking stranger. Then, a flicker of something akin to surrender crossed his face. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough with exertion, “I think I do.”
As I knelt down, loosening the stubborn lug nut, he began to speak. His voice was weathered, like an old leather boot, but surprisingly steady. “Name’s Arthur,” he introduced himself. “Never been one to ask for help,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Always been the one doing the fixing, the helping.”
He went on to tell me about his life – a life of hard work, of providing for his family, of always being the strong one. His wife, bless her soul, had passed away last year, leaving a gaping hole in his life. “She always told me,” he sighed, “not to be so stubborn. To ask for help when I needed it. But I… I never could. Pride, I guess.”
As I tightened the last lug nut, I looked at him. Arthur was watching me, a flicker of something akin to awe in his eyes. “You don’t know what this means to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
And in that moment, I realized something profound. True strength wasn’t just about brute force, about lifting heavy things and overcoming physical obstacles. True strength lay in acknowledging your limitations, in recognizing when you needed a helping hand, and in having the humility to accept it. It was about recognizing that asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.
Arthur, in his vulnerability, had taught me a valuable lesson. That day, I not only helped an elderly man change a tire; I learned a valuable lesson about true strength, a lesson that would stay with me long after the memory of the hot summer day and the rusty tire iron faded.
From that day forward, I approached my work with a newfound perspective. I learned to appreciate the value of teamwork, to recognize the strengths of my colleagues, and to ask for help when I needed it. I learned that true strength wasn’t about being invincible, but about knowing when to lean on others and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And every time I faced a challenge, I would remember Arthur, and the valuable lesson he taught me about the true meaning of strength.
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