A football prospect for the NFL who died in a car accident on Saturday morning wrote a sad last post just hours before he died.
Police say a speeding car killed 24-year-old Khyree Jackson and two of his friends. Jackson was picked up by the Minnesota Vikings in the NFL draft not long ago.
Police confirmed early Saturday morning that Jackson, the cornerback, and Hazel, the driver, were both pronounced dead at the scene. Hazel was Jackson’s high school teammate.
Anthony Lytton Jr., a fellow passenger and teammate, was rushed to the hospital but later pronounced dead as well.
On Friday, Jackson posted a 10-slide Instagram carousel with pictures from his life, including ones of him at Vikings practice, along with the message “Mmmhmmm.”
Jackson also posted pictures of himself smiling on a beach with two parrots, flexing with a lizard, and taking selfies in front of a mirror to show off his stylish clothes.
In a picture in the post comparing “dreamers” and “doers,” a group of people labeled as “dreamers” watch a man labeled as a “doer” surf a huge wave.
Jackson really was a “doer.”
TMZ said that the football star started college at Fort Scott Community College after graduating from Dr. Henry Wise Jr. High School. He worked his way up and went on to play for the Oregon Ducks and the Alabama Crimson Tide.
Oregon Live said that Jackson’s best season so far was 2023, which made him the best cornerback for the Ducks.
They picked the cornerback, who is 24 years old, in the fourth round of the 2024 NFL draft.
“The news of Khyree Jackson’s death after an overnight car accident breaks our hearts,” the Vikings said in a statement.
“The Minnesota Vikings have talked to Khyree’s family and offered their support while we look into the matter further.”
“We have also communicated the news to Vikings players, coaches and staff and have offered counseling for those who need emotional support.”
“Our hearts go out to Khyree’s family, friends, teammates, coaches, and all the other people who died in this terrible accident.”
Jackson had “contagious energy” that made the other players want to play.
“The news of this breaks my heart.” “Khyree’s energy spread through our building and team,” O’Connell said in a statement.
“His teammates liked him right away because he was sure of himself and had a great personality.” While we were together, it was clear that Khyree was going to become a great professional football player. But what really impressed me was how much he wanted to be the best person he could be for his family and the people around him.
“I don’t know what to say. Khyree’s family, friends, teammates, and coaches are in my thoughts and prayers.
Around 3 a.m. Saturday, Jackson was riding in a Dodge Charger with two former teammates when a fast-moving Infiniti pulled out in front of them.
Police say that after getting hit, the Charger went off the road to the right and hit several tree stumps.
From what the police say, the Infiniti also hit a Chevrolet Impala.
The driver of the Impala, Cori Clingman, and the two people in her car were not hurt. Neither was the driver of the Infiniti.
After the investigation, charges have not yet been made.
I Discovered My Husband Mocks Me in Front of His Friends & I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget
I’m a full-time mom. About a year ago, I left my job to take care of our three-year-old daughter, who is autistic and requires a lot of support. Lately, I’ve noticed that my usually feminist husband has been criticizing me in a group chat.
Transitioning into the role of a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) wasn’t something I had envisioned for myself. I used to thrive in the fast-paced world of marketing, surrounded by campaigns and fueled by brainstorming sessions over coffee. But all that changed a little over a year ago when my husband, Jake, and I made a significant decision. Our daughter, Lily, who is three and autistic, needed more attention than what her daycare could provide. Her needs are complex, requiring constant care and support, and it became clear that one of us had to be with her full-time.
I won’t sugarcoat it — leaving my career behind was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I miss the freedom of earning my own income and the satisfaction of a job well done. But here I am now, spending my days planning meals, cooking, and baking. I’ve found joy in these tasks, and experimenting in the kitchen has become my new creative outlet.
Our backyard has turned into a small garden oasis under my care, and I take care of most of the household chores. Jake does his fair share too; he’s actively involved in chores and parenting whenever he’s at home. We’ve always considered ourselves equals, rejecting traditional gender roles, or so I thought until last week.
It was a regular Thursday, and I was tidying up Jake’s home office while he was at work. It’s filled with tech gadgets and piles of paperwork, typical for someone in software development. His computer screen caught my eye — it was still on, casting a soft glow in the dim room. He usually left it on by accident, but what I saw next wasn’t accidental at all.
His Twitter feed was open, and I froze when I saw the hashtag #tradwife attached to a tweet. Confusion washed over me as I read the post. It glorified the joys of having a traditional wife who embraces her domestic duties. Attached was a photo of me, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, looking every bit like a 1950s housewife. My stomach churned as I scrolled through more posts. There I was again, tending to the garden and reading to Lily, our faces thankfully obscured.
This was Jake’s account, and he had been crafting a whole narrative about our life that was far from reality. He portrayed me as a woman who relished her role as a homemaker, willingly sacrificing her career for aprons and storybooks. The truth of our situation — that this arrangement was a necessity for our daughter’s well-being — was nowhere to be seen.
I felt betrayed. Here was the man I’d loved and trusted for over a decade, sharing our life with strangers under a false pretense that felt foreign to me. It wasn’t just the lies about our relationship dynamics that hurt — it was also the realization that he was using these glimpses of our life to bolster some online persona.
I shut the computer down, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. All day, I grappled with my emotions, trying to comprehend why Jake would do this. Was he dissatisfied with our situation? Did he resent my decision to stay home? Or was it something deeper, a shift in how he perceived me now that I wasn’t contributing financially?
The rest of the day passed in a blur. His posts kept replaying in my mind, and eventually, I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I decided to call him and address everything head-on.
“Jake, we need to talk,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He answered, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, the weight of my discovery weighing heavily on me. “I saw your Twitter today…”
His expression fell, and he let out a long sigh, indicating he knew exactly what this conversation was about to entail. He started to respond, but I interrupted him.
“Calm down,” he said, dismissing it as “just harmless posting.” That was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce, called him out for his deceit, and ended the call.
Jake rushed home immediately. We argued, but with Lily’s strict schedule, I couldn’t let the conflict drag on. He pleaded with me to have a proper conversation after putting Lily to bed. Reluctantly, I agreed. That night, he showed me his phone, revealing that he had deleted the Twitter account. But the damage was already done.
A week passed, and my anger hadn’t subsided. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. It was a breach of trust. Jake attempted to explain, claiming it started as a joke, but he got carried away with the attention it garnered. But excuses weren’t enough.
Motivated by a mix of hurt and the need for justice, I decided to expose him. I took screenshots of his tweets and shared them on my Facebook page. I wanted our friends and family to know the truth. My post was straightforward: “Your husband belittles you in front of his friends behind your back. Sound familiar?”
The response was immediate. Our relatives were shocked, and the comments poured in. Jake was inundated with messages and calls. He left work early once more to beg for my forgiveness. He knelt, tears in his eyes, pleading that it was all just a “silly game.”
But I couldn’t let it go. The trust that bound us together was broken. It wasn’t just about a few misguided posts; it was about the respect and understanding we were supposed to have for each other. I told him I needed time and space to think and heal. I moved out with Lily to another apartment.
For six months, Jake begged for forgiveness. He sent messages, left voicemails, and made small gestures to show he was sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. I told him that if he truly wanted to make amends, we needed to start anew. In my eyes, we were strangers now, and he had to court me like he did years ago when we first met.
So, we began again, slowly. We went on dates, starting with coffee and progressing to dinners. We talked a lot — about everything except the past. It was like rediscovering ourselves individually and as a couple. Jake was patient, perhaps realizing this was his last chance to salvage our once-loving relationship.
As I sit here now, reflecting on the past year, I realize how much I’ve changed. This betrayal forced me to reevaluate not only my marriage but also myself and my needs. I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t just about accepting an apology; it’s about feeling secure and valued again. It’s a gradual process, one that we’re both committed to, step by step.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Share your thoughts on Facebook.
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