Goodable

Exactly 31 years ago today, the world witnessed one of the greatest moments that any sport has ever given us.

At the 1992 Olympics, Derek Redmond was running the 400M semi-finals when he suffered a hamstring injury. Instead of giving up, he tried limping his way to the finish.

His father couldn’t bear to see his son in so much pain. So he immediately ran onto the track to help him finish. 

We dare you to not cry.

Exactly 31 years ago today, the world witnessed one of the greatest moments that any sport has ever given us. At the 1992 Olympics, Derek Redmond was running the 400M semi-finals when he suffered a hamstring injury. Instead of giving up, he tried limping his way to the finish. His father couldn’t bear to see his son in so much pain. So he immediately ran onto the track to help him finish.&nbsp; We dare you to not cry.

31 Years Ago, the Olympics Gave Us One of the Greatest Moments in Sports History

Science Daily

A skeleton pulled from the cliffs near Golden Cap more than two decades ago has turned out to be something paleontologists didn’t think they would find again on the UK’s Jurassic Coast: a brand new species of ichthyosaur.

The dolphin-sized marine reptile, now named Xiphodracon goldencapensis and nicknamed the “Sword Dragon of Dorset,” is the only known specimen of its kind. Researchers say it helps close a major gap in the ichthyosaur fossil record and marks the first new genus of Early Jurassic ichthyosaur identified from the region in more than a century.

Dorset collector Chris Moore uncovered the fossil in 2001. It has taken until now for scientists to fully analyze it, and the wait was worth it. Preserved in almost perfect three-dimensional detail, the skeleton includes a long, blade-like snout and a skull with a huge eye socket. At roughly 3 meters long, the reptile likely hunted fish and squid. There may even be remnants of its last meal preserved inside. Researchers say no other prehistoric reptile from the Pliensbachian period has been found in such complete condition.

An international team led by ichthyosaur specialist Dr. Dean Lomax conducted the research, with findings published in Papers in Palaeontology. Lomax remembered his first look at the fossil in 2016. “Back then, I knew it was unusual, but I did not expect it to play such a pivotal role in helping to fill a gap in our understanding of a complex faunal turnover during the Pliensbachian,” he said. He described Xiphodracon as a “missing piece of the ichthyosaur puzzle,” because it shows closer ties to species that evolved later than expected.

That evolutionary timing matters. Ichthyosaurs from the Pliensbachian, roughly 193 to 184 million years ago, are extremely rare. Scientists have long known that species before and after this period were sharply different despite having similar ecological roles. But they have struggled to pinpoint when that shift occurred. “Thousands of complete or nearly complete ichthyosaur skeletons are known from strata before and after the Pliensbachian,” said co-author Professor Judy Massare. “The two faunas are quite distinct, with no species in common. Xiphodracon helps to determine when the change occurred, but we still don’t know why.”

The fossil also offers a more personal look at life — and danger — in the ancient seas. Co-author Dr. Erin Maxwell said several limb bones and teeth show signs of serious injury or illness. The skull appears to have been bitten by a much larger predator, possibly another ichthyosaur. “The skull appears to have been bitten by a large predator — likely another much larger species of ichthyosaur — giving us a cause of death for this individual,” she said. “Life in the Mesozoic oceans was a dangerous prospect.”

Beyond helping settle an evolutionary mystery, the species stands out for its unique anatomy. One of the strangest details is a pronged bone near the nostril, unlike anything seen in other ichthyosaurs. Naming rights came with the discovery, and Lomax leaned into two centuries of calling ichthyosaurs “sea dragons.” Xiphodracon combines the Greek xiphos, for sword, and dracon, for dragon.

The fossil now belongs to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, which has one of the world’s largest ichthyosaur collections. It is expected to go on public display after the study’s release.

The Jurassic Coast has produced ichthyosaur fossils since the days of Mary Anning, but finds like this remain rare. This one reached across 190 million years to answer questions researchers have been asking for decades — and raised a few new ones along the way.

New ‘sword Dragon’ Fossil From Jurassic Coast Fills a 190-Million-Year Gap

BBC News

Most people know their daily commute a little too well. Keith Allen knows his so well he had it inked into his skin. The 53-year-old National Express driver from Brockworth, near Gloucester, now carries a tribute to the 444 service on his forearm: “444. 4better. 4worse. 4ever.”

Allen has been driving coaches for about three decades. He’s worked for several companies, joined National Express in 2010 and has stayed loyal to the same loop from Cheltenham to London Gatwick Airport and back since the pandemic. He says he wouldn’t want it any other way. “I love it, absolutely love it,” he said. “The thing is with me, everyday is different.”

He prides himself on keeping passengers smiling. “When they're not happy you try to make them happy,” he said. “I've done tour work for many years, it's nice to make everybody laugh. That's what it's all about these days.”

He joked to the BBC that he got the tattoo “when his divorce came through,” and teased that his other arm might get similar treatment if another marriage ever ends. He also jokes with his bosses about his future. “I tell my boss ‘I'm going to be here for 20 years, get my gold Rolex and then I'm going to leave’. But I’ll probably never leave. I love the job, as long as they’ll have me.”

Last year brought something unexpected: an adult diagnosis of autism and ADHD. He described it as a relief. “School was a nightmare, I wish I never went to school,” he said. “They told me different things like [I was] hyperactive, didn't know what ADHD was in those days. It’s nice to put a label on something. I'm not crazy or stupid, I'm just me.”

He left school without qualifications, trained briefly as a chef, and cycled through six other jobs before finding what he calls his true fit behind the wheel, travelling long distances with people instead of paperwork. “When you’re single, it’s the job to have,” he said.

Passengers seem to agree that Allen is exactly where he should be. Mark Tucker, a regular on the 444, said Allen is “always accommodating, always happy and friendly and professional.”

For Allen, the job is still fun, still surprising, still worth memorialising in ink. And as long as that loop keeps running, he plans to keep riding it.

Coach Driver Tattoos Beloved Route Number on Arm As a Tribute to His Passion

Before she had millions of followers, brand deals and her own line of sleepwear, Lauren Riihimaki was a kid at the YMCA of Niagara summer camp making embroidered friendship bracelets. She didn’t know it then, but those bracelets would become the blueprint for her earliest YouTube videos and eventually launch her into the first wave of DIY creators at a time when “content creator” wasn’t a career anyone talked about.

Now 32 and living in Los Angeles, the St. Catharines, Ontario native is one of the most recognizable DIY and lifestyle personalities online. As LaurDIY, she has built an audience of more than 8.8 million subscribers across her channels and collaborated with names like Disney, Starbucks, PopSockets and Ardene. She even designed a onesie and sleepwear collection for the Canadian fashion brand.

But her latest videos look nothing like the big production partnerships she’s known for. Instead, they take her back home to St. Catharines, where she decided to revisit the version of herself who created for fun, not analytics.

In one clip, she shared scenes from her childhood and spoke about a time when creativity “was untouched by expectation, analytics or outside judgement.” In an interview with CBC News, she described the life she has now with a mix of gratitude and realism. “I have quite literally the best job in the entire world,” she said. “There is nothing that I would rather be doing, but there is a lot more responsibility tied to it.”

Going home had a grounding effect. She remembered the feeling of walking into art class at Sir Winston Churchill Secondary School, where she could experiment freely and never think about whether an algorithm would approve. “It was just an entirely different era of creating here,” she said. “It was just for the love of it and that was, I think, something that I needed to be reminded of. That is St. Catharines for me.”

Her mother, Gail Riihimaki, known to fans as MomDIY, wasn’t surprised her daughter gravitated toward creative work. From colouring books and craft kits to altering clothes and teaching music at the Niagara Conservatory of Music as a teen, Lauren always wanted to make things. “It’s funny because neither my husband nor I are particularly artistic,” Gail said. “Being a social media influencer is a big surprise. Guidance counsellor didn’t talk about that.”

Riihimaki was already thinking creatively long before YouTube existed. In Grade 5, when she was asked what she wanted to be, she picked interior and graphic design. Her family had lived in St. Catharines for three generations, but at 18 she wanted a bigger canvas and moved to Toronto to study graphic communications management at Toronto Metropolitan University.

The excitement of the city didn’t stop burnout from creeping in. The program pushed her, sometimes too hard, and she began looking for outlets that didn’t feel like assignments. “When she just started posting videos for her own pleasure, nobody knew, not even Lauren,” Gail said. “The world didn’t even know at that point that it could eventually turn into a career.”

After graduating in 2015, Riihimaki committed to YouTube full time. In 2016 she announced she was moving to Los Angeles to be closer to other creators, explaining the leap in her Draw My Life video.

A decade later, fans still love seeing glimpses of the hometown she left behind. Earlier this month she posted a winter wardrobe video ahead of her trip to St. Catharines, sparking a wave of surprise and local pride. One commenter who “went to Niagara College” said they were “constantly shocked” she was from the region. Another chimed in, “Niagara region girlies unite.”

Riihimaki said she returned home for a family milestone — her cousin’s first baby — and to soak up time with the people she grew up with. Family has become more important as she’s gotten older.

She’s also busy with new creative projects. She has been flipping rooms in her Los Angeles home and, in October, she co-launched Fuzzboy Originals, a line of accessories for dog walkers, with her longtime Toronto friend Dani Roche. “It's been a passion project that I've had on the back burner for so many years,” she said.

For a creator whose channel started with simple bracelets made at camp, going home seems to have done exactly what she hoped: remind her where the spark came from, and why making things still feels like joy rather than pressure.

How LaurDIY Transformed From Kid Crafter In a Canadian Town To an L.A.-Based YouTube Star

ABC News

Conservationists in New Zealand have been trying for decades to keep the kakapo, the only flightless parrot on Earth, from fading out of existence. The bird is hefty, slow and easy for predators to catch. It also prefers to reproduce only when the mood — and the berry crop — is just right. For a long time, many believed the species was destined to disappear.

Yet the numbers are heading in the right direction. After sitting at about 50 birds thirty years ago, the population has now passed 200. This season, conservation workers are cautiously hopeful for a record number of chicks in February thanks to an unusually strong crop of the rimu berries kakapo love most.

Chances to see them in the wild are rare. They live on three remote islands off New Zealand’s southern coast. Even so, one kakapo managed to capture attention well beyond those shores this month through a livestream of her underground nest, where her chick hatched on Tuesday.

Kakapo can live for up to 80 years, and everything about them seems built to stand out. They can weigh more than 3 kilograms. Their faces resemble an owl, and they have whiskers. Their plumage — a mix of green, yellow and black — blends neatly into the forest floor. Their scent does not. “Kakapo also have a really strong scent,” said Deidre Vercoe of the Department of Conservation’s kakapo program. “They smell really musky and fruity — gorgeous smell.”

That distinct aroma, though, became a disadvantage once humans arrived in New Zealand. Rats, dogs, cats and stoats followed, and the country’s flightless birds suffered. Habitat loss and hunting only added to the decline. By 1974, conservationists feared the kakapo was gone. Then, in the late 1970s, a surviving population was found.

Even with that stroke of luck, rebuilding the species has been anything but simple. Their breeding is irregular and famously slow. Kakapo usually only breed every two to four years, triggered by bumper fruit seasons that aren’t fully understood. Vercoe said the birds somehow sense when the native rimu trees are developing a heavy crop. “They’re probably up there in the canopy assessing the fruiting,” she said. “When there’s a large crop developing, they somehow tune into that.”

When the timing is right, male kakapo gather in dug-out bowls on the forest floor, letting out long, low booms that can carry across the island. They follow those booms with noises known as “chings,” likened to rusty bedsprings. The performance is their entire pitch to potential mates. Females raise the chicks on their own and can lay up to four eggs.

This year, a 23-year-old kakapo named Rakiura has become the reluctant star of the breeding season. Her nest on Whenua Hou island has been broadcast through a livestream watched by thousands. She laid three eggs, two of which were fertile. Because the species remains so fragile, technicians replaced her real eggs with fake ones while the originals were incubated indoors. On Tuesday, staff returned the first egg shortly before hatching. Rakiura kept her distance during the quick switch but returned without fuss. The chick arrived just over an hour later.

Saving the kakapo has required measures few other species receive. Each bird has a name. Each wears a small backpack tracker. Every pairing is assessed to protect what remains of their genetic diversity. They live only on closely monitored, predator-free islands. Even with signs of recovery, they are still critically endangered.

“We do what we can to make sure we don’t lose any further genetic diversity,” Vercoe said. “We manage that carefully through having the best matches possible on each island.”

For many New Zealanders, none of this feels excessive. The country’s native birds evolved in isolation, without land mammals other than two types of bat. They filled niches elsewhere occupied by primates, rodents or carnivores, which is why so many of them — kakapo included — turned out unusual, charismatic and unprepared for predators.

“We don’t have the Eiffel Tower or the pyramids, but we do have kakapo and kiwi,” Vercoe said. “It’s a real New Zealand duty to save these birds.”

If the coming breeding season delivers as hoped, the country will get one step closer to pulling the kakapo back from the brink, with a little help from one determined parrot livestreaming her part in the effort.c

Bumper Berry Harvest Sparks Rare Romance Among New Zealand's Flightless Parrots

A baby boy named Hugo came into the world just before Christmas 2025, weighing a little over 3 kilograms, and carrying with him a medical milestone that doctors in the UK had been working toward for decades. His mother, Grace Bell, calls him “simply a miracle.” Doctors call him proof that something once considered impossible may soon be within reach for thousands of women.

Bell, who lives in Kent with her partner, Steve Powell, was born without a viable womb because of MRKH syndrome. She learned at 16 that she would never carry a pregnancy. So when the phone rang one day with news that a womb had become available from a deceased donor, she said she was “in complete shock” and “really excited,” but also deeply aware of what the donor’s family had given her.

“I think of my donor and her family every day and pray they find some peace in knowing their daughter gave me the biggest gift: the gift of life,” she said. “A part of her will live on forever.”

The transplant took place in June 2024 at The Churchill Hospital in Oxford and lasted 10 hours. After months of recovery, IVF treatment followed at The Lister Fertility Clinic in London. An embryo transfer worked. Bell was pregnant. And just before the holidays, at Queen Charlotte’s and Chelsea Hospital in west London, Hugo arrived.

Bell remembers the moment she first saw him. “I remember waking up in the morning and seeing his little face, with his little dummy in, and it felt like I needed to wake up from a dream,” she said. “It was just incredible.”

Her son is the first baby in the UK to be born from a transplant using a deceased donor’s womb. It’s part of a clinical research trial in which 10 transplants are planned. Three have been completed so far, but Hugo is the first birth to result from a deceased donor. Earlier in 2025, a girl named Amy was born at the same London hospital after her mother received a living womb donation from her sister.

For the team of surgeons who have spent years preparing for this moment, Hugo’s birth marks a turning point.

Consultant gynaecologist Prof Richard Smith, who has been researching womb transplantation for more than 25 years, was there when Hugo was born. He said “a huge team of people” played a role, from the initial transplant operation to the embryo transfer and the delivery. Bell and Powell thanked him in their own way, giving their son the middle name Richard.

Transplant surgeon and joint team leader Isabel Quiroga described the birth as a step forward for transplantation in the UK. “Very few babies have been born in Europe as a result of their mothers receiving a womb from a deceased donor,” she said. She hopes the ongoing trial will help determine whether womb transplants could one day become a regular treatment option for women who do not have a viable womb.

There are about 5,000 women in the UK with MRKH syndrome. For many, the only path to parenthood has been surrogacy or adoption. Smith said Hugo’s birth shows that girls and women who were once told they would never carry a pregnancy “could now have hope” of doing so.

A baby born following a womb transplant has no genetic link to the donor. More than 100 transplants have taken place around the world, resulting in more than 70 healthy births. Still, womb donation remains unusual. Families must give specific consent even if their relative is already an organ donor, because the procedure differs from traditional organ donation.

The family of the woman whose womb was donated to Bell chose to stay anonymous. They said they feel “tremendous pride” in the legacy their daughter left behind. In addition to the womb that allowed Hugo to be born, she donated five other organs that were transplanted into four people.

“Through organ donation, she has given other families the precious gift of time, hope, healing and now life,” her family said.

Bell and Powell are already thinking about the possibility of a second child. After that, surgeons will remove the transplanted womb so Bell does not have to stay on long-term medication to prevent her body from rejecting the organ.

For now, though, they are focused on their son. And Hugo, at just 10 weeks old, is quietly carrying a story that stretches far beyond his cot: one of generosity, persistence, and the kind of scientific progress that changes lives in ways families feel for generations.

The First UK Baby Born From a Deceased-Donor's Womb is Bringing Quiet Joy and a New Hope

People

Seven-year-old Mia Bates didn’t panic when her father collapsed on the stairs. She grabbed the phone, called 911, and calmly gave the dispatcher the information they needed. A month later, her hometown is celebrating her for it.

On Tuesday, Feb. 24, Mia will receive the key to the village from Mayor Jade Curry, joined by the first responders who say her quick thinking made all the difference. The Village of Lynwood has already credited her “bravery and quick thinking” for helping “save her father’s life.”

The emergency happened in January, when Mia’s father, Xavier — a railroad conductor — fell while walking downstairs and slammed his head, losing consciousness immediately. Mia was home alone with him. With her mom at work, she ran to the phone and dialed 911.

“When her dad, Xavier, suffered a serious fall at home, Mia stayed calm under pressure, called 911, provided critical information to the dispatcher, and let paramedics into the house when they arrived,” the village wrote in a social media statement. “Her actions made all the difference.”

Mia told WLS she just knew he needed to get to the hospital “where he could get better” and encouraged others in a similar situation to be “brave.” She also said she was “glad the ambulance helped him.”

Lynwood Fire Chief Lashaun Alston read the dispatch notes from that day and said Mia’s composure stood out. She was “calm” and “collect,” he told the station — unusual even among adults in comparable emergencies.

Her story has sparked conversations about teaching kids how to recognize emergencies and call for help. KidsHealth.org encourages parents to walk their children through examples of what qualifies as an emergency and how to talk to a dispatcher.

Next week, Mia will stand alongside the firefighters and paramedics she helped guide to her home. And her village will hand her a key meant for heroes — a reminder that courage sometimes comes in very small, very steady voices.

Brave 7-Year-Old Saves Dad's Life, Earns Town Honor for Heroic 911 Call

Euro News

For the first time in nearly 150 years, giant tortoises are once again roaming Floreana Island. Rangers released 158 juvenile hybrids on 20 February, marking a historic moment in the island’s long-running effort to restore an ecosystem that has been without its native tortoises since the 19th century.

The newcomers, all between 8 and 13 years old, were released just as the season’s first winter rains arrived. The timing wasn’t accidental. The moisture softens the terrain and helps young tortoises settle into their habitat more easily.

“They are large enough to be released and can defend themselves against introduced animals such as rats and cats,” said Fredy Villalba, director of the Galápagos National Park breeding centre on Santa Cruz Island. The program selected juveniles with the strongest genetic ties to the extinct Floreana species, giving them the best chance to eventually rebuild a population that once numbered around 20,000.

These juveniles are the first of 700 tortoises planned for reintroduction. According to Christian Sevilla, the park’s director of ecosystems, each hybrid carries between 40% and 80% of the genetic makeup of Chelonoidis niger — the tortoise species that disappeared from Floreana roughly 150 years ago.

Their lineage traces back to Wolf Volcano on Isabela Island, where scientists unexpectedly found tortoises carrying Floreana ancestry — a discovery that continues to intrigue researchers. By selectively breeding adults with the strongest genetic links, Sevilla says the long-term goal is to restore the species as closely as possible to its original form.

The original population vanished due to whaling, overhunting, habitat destruction and a devastating fire in the 1800s. For biologist Washington Tapia, a researcher and director at Biodiversa-Consultores, bringing tortoises back isn’t just symbolic — it’s essential. “In genetic terms, reintroducing a species to that island with a significant genetic component of the original species is vital,” he said.

Floreana spans about 173 square kilometres and is one of the most remote islands in the Galápagos, sitting roughly 1,000 kilometres off Ecuador’s coast. Today, it supports nearly 200 residents and species like flamingos, iguanas, penguins, sea gulls and hawks. It also faces threats from non-native plants such as blackberry and guava, along with animals introduced over generations — rats, cats, pigs and donkeys among them.

Local residents have been waiting years for this day. “We are seeing the reality of a project that began several years ago,” said Floreana resident Verónica Mora. The community, she added, feels deep pride in the return of the island’s iconic tortoises.

The United Nations, which designated the Galápagos as a Natural World Heritage Site in 1978, recognized the islands for their unmatched concentration of species found nowhere else on Earth. The reintroduction of tortoises to Floreana is another step toward restoring that ecological richness — one slow, determined footstep at a time.

Giant Tortoises Return To Galápagos Island After Nearly 150 Years

USA Today

The scoreboard didn’t matter. The standings didn’t matter. But when Alex Vesia walked toward the mound at Camelback Ranch on Monday, the cheers felt as heavy as the moment itself.

It was his first appearance since he and his wife, Kayla, lost their newborn daughter, Sterling Sol, on Oct. 26, just before the World Series. He had stepped away from the team but never stopped watching, following every pitch from home and celebrating quietly when the Los Angeles Dodgers won the championship against the Toronto Blue Jays.

On Monday, the ovation started the moment he emerged from the dugout. He took a deep breath, his heart racing, then delivered a spotless, 1-2-3 inning against the Seattle Mariners. As he walked off, the cheers grew louder. He tapped his chest, looked to the crowd and mouthed his thanks. When he reached the dugout, every teammate was waiting — hugging him, shaking his hand, reminding him he wasn’t alone.

“It’s been hard,’’ Vesia told USA Today. “I guess it’s hard in a good way because I want to interact with all of the fans and stuff like that, but I have a job to do. Even on the backfields, first day, I walk out the doors and cheers and lots of love. So, yeah, it means a lot, not only for myself, but for Kayla, too.’’

He and Kayla stayed home during the team’s World Series parade, still mourning. In the months that followed, he poured himself into long hours at the gym — sometimes too many, he admits — and counseling sessions with his wife. Slowly, life started to regain its shape.

Being back with teammates is a big part of that healing.

“Being around the guys, it’s really been comforting, you know,’’ Vesia said. “We’ve had multiple conversations and guys are asking me questions and just trying to, you know, feel for me. That’s honestly been a blessing. I do like talking about it with the guys and whatnot. I don’t want them to feel like they can’t. These guys are my brothers, man. I truly do love them all.’’

Dodgers pitching coach Mark Prior and assistant Connor McGuiness praised him immediately after the inning. Vesia called the moment “a little overwhelming” and tried to absorb everything — the fans, the support, the sense of stepping forward.

Manager Dave Roberts acknowledged how meaningful it was to see him back on a mound.

“Obviously, what Alex and Kayla went through, you don’t wish that upon anyone,” Roberts said. “They’re getting to the other side of things. And to see him getting back out here in a baseball game, and to have a clean inning and be received by the fans, I know it meant a lot to him. Obviously, his teammates feel for him and want to support him.”

Now the focus slowly shifts back to routine: spring training days, bullpen work, the upcoming season. Roberts said normalcy is the goal — and something Vesia wants.

“I think the main thing is getting back to normalcy,” he said. “That’s something I know that he wants and to kind of move forward and focus on 2026. We obviously know what went on, and what they’ve been through, but I think the main thing is getting back to doing what he loves to do, and that’s playing baseball. He’s in a good place.’’

Vesia agrees. Being back on the field feels right. The support around him feels even better.

“It’s going to be a fun year,” he said. “I’m really excited. I think we’re going to do some really cool things this year.”

Alex Vesia Says He's Finding Comfort On The Field In His First Game Since His Daughter's Passing

New York City found itself under a rare, punishing blizzard on Monday that left sidewalks slick, streets barely passable, and officials warning it could rank among the 10 worst storms in 150 years. Snow piled high along corners and crosswalks, turning even simple errands into risky treks.

But in the middle of all that chaos, one quiet moment of generosity ended up stealing the spotlight.

A viral video on @newyorklocals showed an elderly woman, leaning on a cane, struggling to navigate a snow-choked sidewalk at W. 75th Street and Broadway. The snowbanks were tall enough to block her path entirely. For a few seconds, it looked like she might have to turn back.

Then another passerby stepped in. She knelt down in the snow, pushing it aside with her gloved hands to clear a narrow path, then offered her arm to guide the woman through. What could have been a dangerous crossing became something warm and unexpectedly hopeful.

“A kind stranger helps an elderly lady cross the street on Broadway this morning, New Yorkers are kind,” @newyorklocals captioned the clip.

The video’s original source, TikTok user @hamsterjam88, added her own perspective from a room at the Beacon Hotel. “Heartwarming to see this from my room at the Beacon Hotel. We are stranded here because our flight was cancelled. Not sure for how long. New Yorkers are so wonderful. And the staff at the hotel are so friendly and helpful, so we are happy to be stuck — for now!”

The moment has since taken off online. Comments piled in, many from people grateful for a glimpse of kindness during a harsh storm. “The world needs more of this,” one person wrote. Another added, “Wherever Granny is going in this weather it must be important 👏🏼💯.”

And one sentiment kept returning: New Yorkers look out for one another, no matter the weather. As one commenter put it, “We New Yorkers get a bad rap sometimes, but no matter what we will always be there for others… love my city.”

Even in a storm big enough to bring a city to a standstill, small acts of care have a way of moving straight through the drifts.

As a Blizzard Buried New York, A Small Act of Kindness Cut Through the Snow

Brian Reeve spent decades trying to outmaneuver his obsessive-compulsive disorder. Some days it meant walking in and out of a doorway over and over. Other days it meant taking out his contact lenses, putting them back in, and starting again until something in his mind clicked into place. He kept going like that for years, managing as best he could, until he finally couldn’t anymore.

Seven years ago, at 62, he hit the point where the rituals were running his life. They consumed whole stretches of his day and chipped away at time with his children. After years of trying to manage it alone, he entered the OCD program at the Frederick W. Thompson Anxiety Disorders Centre at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto.

That decision changed everything. Reeve calls the program a “game-changer” and a “life reset.” Now 69 and in remission, the lawyer and private equity investor has donated $10 million to the centre that helped him rebuild his life.

Established in 2012, the Thompson Centre is the country’s first and only facility dedicated specifically to OCD and related disorders. It estimates that about 400,000 Canadians live with OCD. Dr. Peggy Richter, the centre’s head and a professor of psychiatry at the University of Toronto, says the disorder can be far more complex than the public tends to understand. It isn’t only about washing hands or straightening objects. It can show up as repetitive counting or intrusive thoughts that have nothing to do with a person’s values or intentions.

She says it can range from mild cases, where someone might run late because they’re stuck in rituals, to severe cases that are “profoundly disabling.” As she puts it, “People can basically be prisoners in their own homes, unable to do even the most basic activities of daily living.”

Reeve was diagnosed in the 1990s, when treatment options were limited. Even so, he managed well enough to build a career, get married, and raise a family. But by 2019, something shifted. The rituals multiplied, each one needing to be repeated until it felt “just right.” Even simple tasks, like checking an alarm clock, could spiral into dozens of repetitions.

“Checking once isn’t that big of a deal, but when it becomes 10 times or 20 times, and you have to keep turning the switch off and on until it feels right, that's what OCD becomes,” Reeve told As It Happens host Nil Köksal.

Later that year, at the suggestion of his family doctor, he enrolled in the Thompson Centre’s intensive program. For four months, he attended five days a week for eight hours a day. It was demanding, but it gave him something he hadn’t had in decades: a toolkit that actually worked. He kept using it after the program ended and reached remission three years later.

Richter says the centre’s strength comes from its wide range of supports. It offers diagnostic consultation, psychiatric care, cognitive-behavioural therapy, and an intensive program designed for people at the severe end of the spectrum. It also connects patients with trained volunteers who have gone through treatment themselves, offering both group and one-on-one peer support. And once formal treatment ends, an aftercare program keeps that support going.

Reeve’s donation will help accelerate the centre’s long-planned move from rented space to a permanent home at Sunnybrook’s Bayview campus next spring. The new facility will bring improved amenities, a dining space, closer ties with the hospital’s brain sciences program, and more treatment capacity. The funding will also support a new chair in OCD at Sunnybrook and the University of Toronto, along with fellowships to train future clinicians and researchers.

For Reeve, the gift is about sending a message to anyone struggling the way he once did. Effective treatment exists. Help exists. And no one should have to feel alone.

“What we’re trying to do with the Thompson Centre [is] to make you feel that you’re not walking the road alone and that there’s a lot of resources and you don’t have to be ashamed or embarrassed that you’ve got OCD,” he said.

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