Im asking for $75.000 In 2017, I made a promise to my dying father that I would be there for him in his final years. He was suffering from cancer, and I was homeless. He asked me to move in with him, and I agreed. We spent three years together, helping him through his final days. But after he passed away, the struggles didn’t stop. In fact, they only grew harder. The Fire and Loss Six months after my father’s passing, I woke up to the worst nightmare I could imagine: my home was on fire. I fought through the flames to escape, burnt my hands but the damage was severe. While the house was still salvageable, I had no insurance, the fire was started by my fiends make-up lights fire men told me it was caused by an electrical short and I was already in financial distress. I had plans to rebuild, to restore the home and honor my father’s memory. A Town That Turned Its Back However, I quickly learned that the town where I had lived my entire life wasn’t going to make it easy for me. Despite my father’s long-standing contributions to the community, including donating thousands of his art prints to the Alberta Summer Games and having his work displayed in the governor’s residence, the town refused to let me rebuild. They claimed the house was unsafe, even though it was perfectly sound. For the next two years, I fought with every ounce of strength I had just to survive. Lost Opportunities and Intimidation I tried to buy a piece of land nearby, but when the town got wind of it, they threatened the owner with bulldozing his house if he sold it to me. I was left with no options. A friend kindly offered me a fifth wheel to put on the property while I worked to rebuild, but again, the town intervened. They told me I couldn’t live there, threatening my elderly neighbor, who was simply helping me with power, that she would face charges if she continued. They even went as far as condemning my father’s home and bulldozing it down to the ground, erasing a legacy that meant so much to me and so many others. A Community’s Disrespect This wasn’t just about a house; it was about a legacy. My father was a provincial artist who was beloved by many. His art brought people together and created lasting memories. I am not a drug addict or a criminal. I’m a crossdresser, and sadly, that seemed to be enough of a reason for some people in this town to treat me with disdain. It was obvious that I wasn’t wanted there. by some of the town folk A Call for Help Now, I’m turning to you. I need your help to rebuild not just a house, but a home, a legacy, and the life my father and I dreamed of. The struggles I’ve faced have been overwhelming, but I am determined to honor my father’s memory and restore what was unjustly taken from me. If you can, please donate to help me rebuild my father’s home. Every contribution, no matter how small, will make a difference. If you can’t donate, sharing my story with others who may be able to help would mean the world to me. How You Can Help If you’re unable to donate, any support you can offer—whether through sharing this post or offering advice—would be deeply appreciated. Together, we can help make sure my father’s legacy is never forgotten and that the home he worked so hard to create will rise again. Thank you for your kindness, your time, and your support. Closing: With heartfelt gratitude,
Mark bell
e-transfer address is pipesbc@gmail.com