Water in the Granite: The Broken Road That Built Lettermen of the USA

May 13, 2026

Title: Water in the Granite: The Broken Road That Built Lettermen of the USA

In the spring of 2011, I was a broken man trying to hold my life together while everything around me was falling apart.

My marriage to Renee was already dying. We had spent years in counseling, trying to repair something that had been wearing down for a long time. The patterns ran deep. Control. Criticism. Disrespect. Constant conflict. I was not innocent in it. I made my own mistakes. I stayed longer than I should have because I kept hoping things would somehow improve. I own that now. But by then the marriage was exhausted, wounded, and broken on both sides.

Then April 27, 2011 came.

The tornadoes tore through Alabama and devastated entire communities, including parts of my football family.  A-Club brothers were missing. Children were gone. Homes were flattened. There were bodies lying in yards the next morning. My own brother had a dead body in one of his rental property yards while trying to deal with insurance claims, damage, and the shock of everything that had happened overnight.

And in the middle of all that destruction, Renee was texting me, confused and hurt because I had left that night.

I did not have everything figured out. I was barely holding myself together. I was just trying to do the next right thing in front of me.

I remember telling my trainer Tripp, “I’m heading to Tuscaloosa tonight to help with cleanup.”

I reached out to Blair Brown who ran the A-List and several old teammates. I loaded whatever supplies I could into my vehicle and drove straight into the destruction. For weeks I helped coordinate addresses, volunteers, food, water, and supply deliveries alongside my old A-Club brothers. I was not some hero riding in to save the day. I was simply one hurting man showing up in the middle of his own storm trying to help other hurting people.

Looking back now, I can see parts of my personality more clearly than I could then.

I am stubborn by nature. I do not bend easily. Sometimes that has been a strength. Other times it has caused pain for people I loved. Like water finding its way into granite, I tend to search for cracks and keep moving forward no matter how hard the resistance becomes. Both of my ex-wives learned that about me. I regret the pain my stubbornness caused them. I wish I had handled many things differently.

But I also believe God can work through flawed people who keep showing up.

Scripture says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18.

At the time, I did not feel strong. I felt exhausted, ashamed, confused, and emotionally worn down. But somewhere in the middle of all that brokenness, God was quietly building something I could not yet see.

That season became the birthplace of Lettermen of the USA.

I did not set out trying to build a nonprofit organization or create some grand mission. None of this started with a business plan, a strategy meeting, or a vision statement. It started with pain. It started with loss. It started with showing up when everything inside me was hurting too.

The tornado relief efforts planted a small seed.

That seed eventually grew into the Alabama-Auburn flag football game that raised money for tornado victims. Over time, that game became part of the foundation for what Lettermen of the USA would eventually become.

Looking back, I can see clearly now that none of it came from my own strength.

It came through weakness.

It came through failure.

It came through disappointment, mistakes, grief, and seasons that nearly crushed me.

And somehow God still used it.

The older I get, the more I understand that some of the most meaningful things in life are born in suffering, not success. Scripture says, “We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” Romans 5:3-4.

That verse makes more sense to me now than it ever did when I was younger.

During that season I also caught a glimpse of what Dostoevsky called sobornost, the mysterious truth that human beings are deeply connected to one another in ways we often cannot fully see. One small act of obedience, compassion, or sacrifice can ripple outward much farther than we realize. A single decision to help somebody else while you are hurting yourself can change lives you may never even meet.

That is the real story behind Lettermen of the USA.

Not some strong, polished man with all the answers.

Not a man who conquered life without scars.

Just a broken, stubborn, ordinary guy who kept showing up, kept trying, made plenty of mistakes, and watched God take the shattered pieces of his life and build something meaningful out of them anyway.

Honestly, that may be the part of the story that gives me the most hope.

Because if God can bring purpose out of my failures, pain, and brokenness, maybe He can do the same for somebody else too.

That is who I am.

“April 28, 2011 — the night of the tornado. While I was posting updates to coordinate relief help with my A-Club brothers, Renee sent this. She corrected my grammar, mentioned that my first ex-wife had left a rude comment on the post (which she deleted), and told me to stop posting because it looked like I was ‘asking for praise’ and that it was ‘inappropriate.’ Even as people were suffering and I was trying to organize help, my efforts were met with criticism from both ex-wives in one message. I wasn’t perfect in how I communicated, but the lack of support cut deep.”

“April 28, 2011 — the night of the tornado. I had just left for Tuscaloosa to help with the cleanup. Even while I was driving into the disaster zone, I tried to keep some kindness in the marriage: ‘I love you… In Anniston… Making time.’ Renee replied that she was exhausted by the fights and didn’t understand why I had gone. I responded gently with ‘You too… Gnight,’ hoping to de-escalate. This was the emotional tension I carried while choosing to serve that night.”

April 28–29, 2011. I was in Tuscaloosa helping with the cleanup and staying in a twin bed arranged by fellow A-Club brother Murray Legg. When I told Renee the guys wanted to start early, she immediately tried to schedule my return: ‘Why don’t you come back on Monday? I leave for Dallas early Tuesday… You can stay a few days and enjoy yourself. It’ll give us time to think.’ I replied that I would try to come home Sunday. Even during the disaster relief, she was focused on when I would return home to babysit her two boys. The contrast was clear — I was trying to serve in the middle of a crisis, while the marriage continued pulling me back into the old role.

April 28–29, 2011. While my marriage was unraveling and the tornado had devastated Alabama, I was coordinating relief efforts with my A-Club brothers. I texted Blair Brown: ‘Put me down I am headed to Tuscaloosa with hardhats and safety equipment.’ I also sent addresses of people who needed help. In the middle of my own personal storm, this is what I chose to do.

April 28, 2011 — the day of the tornado. My trainer Tripp Smith texted me about how devastated our Alabama football family was. I replied: ‘Tripp, I am heading to Tuscaloosa tonight to help out in the clean up effort.’ Even while my marriage was unraveling and I was carrying heavy personal pain, I made the decision to go serve. That single choice became the first step toward the relief work that eventually grew into Lettermen of the USA

April 29, 2011 — the day after the tornado. Teammate Butch Worley gave me practical directions for volunteer headquarters at Coleman Coliseum and St. Mathias Episcopal Church on Skyland. A week later I checked back in to see if he was heading down to Tuscaloosa. In the middle of my own personal chaos, my football brothers were there helping me navigate the relief work. This kind of support meant everything.

April 28–29, 2011. I was staying in a twin bed at fellow A-Club brother Murray Legg’s house while helping with tornado relief in Tuscaloosa. I texted Renee: ‘I have a twin bed to sleep in t town thanks to Murray Legg… The guys want to get started early.’ She immediately responded by trying to pull me back home: ‘Why don’t you come back on Monday? I leave for Dallas early Tuesday… You can stay a few days and enjoy yourself. It’ll give us time to think.’ I replied that I would try to come home Sunday. Even while I was serving in the middle of the disaster, she was focused on when I would return to babysit her two boys.

April 2011 — Holt, Alabama. Me and my A-Club brothers walking into a devastated neighborhood after the tornado, pushing a wheelbarrow full of supplies. While my marriage was collapsing and I was carrying heavy personal pain, this is where I chose to be — on the ground serving with my brothers. These days of relief work planted the first real seed for Lettermen of the USA

This is the full group of former Alabama and Auburn players who came together for the alumni flag football game in December 2011. This group of men — who showed up that night and helped raise $150,000 for tornado victims — became the core base that founded Lettermen of the USA. What started as one broken man choosing to serve in the middle of his own storm in 2011 had grown into this moment of unity and purpose. God took the pain, the loss, and the obedience and turned it into something far bigger than I ever could have planned.

After the Alabama–Auburn alumni flag football game that raised $150,000 for tornado victims, Siran Stacy and I prayed with former players from both schools. What started as one broken man showing up in the middle of his own storm in 2011 had grown into something much bigger than me. This moment captures the heart of Lettermen of the USA — former rivals on the field, brothers in prayer and service

Sunrise on the long drive back to Atlanta after the Alabama–Auburn alumni flag football game. I had stayed up all night helping with cleanup at Spain Park Stadium and didn’t leave until 3 a.m. The game raised $150,000 for the Governor’s Emergency Relief Fund. In that quiet moment, watching the sun come up after so much pain, exhaustion, and sacrifice, I felt God’s quiet reward — a reminder that He sees the late nights, the brokenness, and the obedience, and He brings beauty out of the storm.

Early 2011 — downtown Kansas City. This is me just a few months before the April 27 tornado tore through Alabama and my life. On the surface, things looked normal. Underneath, my marriage was already breaking down under years of control, criticism, and exhaustion. I had no idea what was coming — the literal storm, the personal pain, and the season of loss that would ultimately plant the first seed for Lettermen of the USA.