ST.“Give Him My Prayers” — Hospital Falls Silent as Hunter, Recovering From His Fourth Surgery, Breaks Down Thinking of a Fellow Lineman Fighting for His Life
Even while enduring intense pain from his own fourth surgery, Hunter was overwhelmed by a different kind of suffering — one that no medication could ease.
As his wife, Katie, gently read aloud the latest update on Denny’s condition, Hunter turned his face away and quietly broke down in tears.
The two men have never met. They are separated by thousands of miles and nearly a generation in age. Yet in that hospital room, they were bound together by something deeper than proximity: the shared scars of electricity, sacrifice, and a lifetime of dangerous work done in service of others.

Denny, a veteran electrician, is now fighting for his life after a devastating electrical accident that occurred while he was restoring power in the aftermath of an ice storm — work meant to bring light and warmth back to families left in the cold.
The cost has been staggering. In just eight days, Denny has undergone seven surgeries, including the partial amputation of his left arm. Doctors say another critical operation still lies ahead as they continue battling to save his life.
As Katie read the details, Hunter — his own hands heavily bandaged, his body still weak — whispered through tears, “He did this work for 31 years to keep people warm… please tell everyone to save a prayer for him.”

The room fell into silence.
Machines continued their steady hum, but time seemed to pause as the young lineman, himself still recovering from trauma, turned his thoughts entirely toward an older brother in the trade standing at death’s door. It was a moment that spoke volumes — not of pain, but of empathy.
Within the next 24 hours, thousands of people are expected to pause their lives, if only briefly, to pray for Denny. His family has issued a heartfelt call to anyone, anywhere, to lift their voices with them during this critical window.
The response has already begun, spreading across communities and social platforms, fueled by a deep respect for a man who spent three decades putting himself in harm’s way so others could be safe.
Denny’s wife, Kristi, says she is still in shock that this even happened.
After 31 years together, she shared a message that laid bare the weight of the moment: “I simply cannot do this life without him.”
Her words echo the fear felt by families across the country who know all too well the risks carried by those who work the lines — climbing poles in brutal weather, racing toward danger while others shelter from it. These are jobs that rarely make headlines until tragedy strikes.
Hunter understands that reality now in a way he never did before. Though younger and earlier in his career, he has already faced multiple surgeries and a long, uncertain road ahead.
Yet hearing about Denny’s suffering has shifted something inside him — a reminder that this profession binds generations together in ways few outsiders ever see.
This Saturday, the community will gather — not just for Denny, but for every worker who steps into danger so others can live in comfort and safety. It will be a moment of collective gratitude, grief, and resolve.
In a hospital room filled with pain and uncertainty, one wounded man offered the only thing he could: compassion.
And sometimes, that is the most powerful force of all.
oo. 📢 BREAKING NEWS: Trump calls it a “Democrat hoax,” but Kimmel lays out why the Epstein saga won’t disappear 🔥

And once the Epstein saga was laid out on live TV, Trump’s denials started sounding louder… and thinner.
Jimmy Kimmel opened his monologue with a familiar shrug—half joke, half warning. He wasn’t claiming to know what Donald Trump did or didn’t do. He wasn’t issuing a verdict. He was pointing out something far simpler and far more unsettling: Trump seems desperate for the public not to see the Epstein files.
And in politics, desperation is a tell.
Kimmel framed it with a metaphor anyone could understand. When someone slams a laptop shut and pulls the covers up, you don’t need a forensic team to suspect there’s something they don’t want you to see. The same logic, Kimmel argued, applies here. Trump could have taken the boring route—admitted he once made a gross joke decades ago to someone who later turned out to be a monster. End of story. Instead, he’s gone all-in on denial, lawsuits, and claims of a vast “Democrat hoax.”
That’s when the segment shifted from satire to scrutiny.
Kimmel reminded viewers of the Wall Street Journal report describing a birthday note and drawing allegedly linked to Trump in a book prepared for Jeffrey Epstein. Trump immediately denied authorship and threatened a $10 million lawsuit, insisting the language wasn’t his, the signature wasn’t his, and that he “doesn’t even draw.” Within hours, however, examples of Trump’s drawings from the same era surfaced—undercutting the absolutism of the denial.
Then came the development Trump didn’t want: House Democrats released the letter publicly.
On-screen, Kimmel walked viewers through the response Trump gave when asked about the Epstein birthday book—calling it fake, insisting Democrats invented it to distract from what he described as historic accomplishments. “We should be talking about my success,” Trump said, not the Epstein “hoax.”
Kimmel paused on that word: hoax.
Because if there’s one thing Trump doesn’t want associated with his name, Kimmel observed, it’s this list. This saga. This file. In fact, Kimmel joked, it might be the first time Trump actively didn’t want his name on something. The irony wasn’t subtle.
As the monologue unfolded, Kimmel pointed out another curious detail: Ghislaine Maxwell, Epstein’s longtime associate and the person many believe holds the most information about his network, was recently transferred from a harsher facility to what Kimmel described as a far more comfortable detention environment—shortly after contact involving Trump’s legal orbit. No accusations. Just timing. And questions.
Trump allies rushed in with defenses that sounded increasingly strained. One Republican congressman floated the idea that the birthday note could have been produced by an autopen—an argument Kimmel dismantled with mock disbelief. Another suggested Trump isn’t much of an artist, as if that somehow settled the matter. Kimmel’s response landed hard: Trump may not be an artist, but he’s a con artist—and signatures from the period, displayed side by side, appeared strikingly similar.
The MAGA response, Kimmel said, wasn’t calm rebuttal. It was a full-blown freakout.
As more pages from the Epstein birthday book surfaced—containing unsettling imagery and notes—Trump’s denials grew more aggressive. Kimmel emphasized that the issue wasn’t whether every item was authentic or symbolic. It was that Trump keeps reacting as though exposure itself is the threat.
Then came the moment that made the studio audience go still.
Kimmel referenced reporting from author Michael Wolff, who has claimed he has seen photographs of Trump and Epstein together with topless women—images Wolff says Epstein kept in a safe. During a Senate hearing, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse asked whether the FBI had found those photos. The response from Trump’s ally wasn’t a clear denial. It was an attack on the question.
Kimmel let the silence do the work.
“Didn’t hear the word ‘no’ there,” he said.
By the end of the monologue, Kimmel wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t accusing. He was repeating the same challenge he’d made from the start: if there’s nothing to hide, release the files. Transparency ends speculation. Secrecy fuels it.
And that’s where Trump’s problem deepens.
Every deflection, every lawsuit threat, every late-night rage post only reinforces the impression that this story has power over him. Not because of a single document—but because of the pattern. The avoidance. The volume. The fear of daylight.
Kimmel closed with the line that summed it all up: Trump doesn’t need comedians to keep this alive. His reactions are doing that just fine.
If the Epstein files are meaningless, then hiding them makes no sense.
And if they matter—Trump’s behavior suggests he already knows it.
