Tell Me Everything

04/28/2026

Does anyone have any pictures of Michael JACKSON WHEN HE PERFORMED IN KANKAKEE?

04/26/2026

The Wine and Chat was a success. From the moment you stepped into the iconic Gibbs, also known as Redboy’s Bar, it took you back to a simpler time—a time where there may have been a hint of chaos, but family and respect were always present.

As we sipped on a variety of wines made by local winemakers using fruits from our own community, the experience became more than just a gathering—it became a connection. It showed that what we need is already here. Our people are creating, building, and preserving from the land we come from.

People are ready to tell their stories. They are ready to share their family history. There is a real need to speak, to be heard, and to preserve our voices before they are lost.

We reminisced on the history of Pembroke, reminding ourselves of what history truly looks like. Some parts of our story may be embarrassing, but that’s alright. It’s who we are. It’s what made us. And most importantly—it’s ours to tell.

From the tavern stories, to the Doll House, to McBroom Cadillacs, and even Kankakee politics during that nostalgic time period, the conversation was honest and meaningful. We also learned that many families first stepped foot into Pembroke around the 1930s, laying the foundation for the community we know today.

This is just the beginning. The stories are here. The people are ready. Now it’s time to listen, document, and preserve.

04/20/2026

How Strong is your Foundation ?

04/19/2026

03/30/2026

Why Are We Denying Ourselves History?
By Tonia Jones Lafi
Why are we denying ourselves history and then wondering why racism still exists?
Racism exists because it was taught, repeated, and never fully corrected. It grew out of painful parts of history that many people still do not want to face. But the truth is, history is not always pretty. Some parts are painful, ugly, and uncomfortable. That still does not give us the right to hide it.
Our ancestors lived that history. They survived it, suffered through it, and some even died. Because of that, we are here.
Slavery happened.
The Trail of Tears happened.
The Holocaust happened.
These are not opinions. They are history.
The Civil War was fought over slavery. That truth should be told. Slavery must be told. But so must the truth about the people and systems that upheld it. That is history too. You cannot tell only the comfortable parts and still call it truth.
The same goes for literature and movies. A lot was written, filmed, and presented through the lens of race and culture. Some of it was honest, and some of it was shaped by ignorance, bias, and harmful perceptions. But instead of hiding it, why not use it as a teachable moment?
When we talk about it, understand it, and reflect on the ignorance behind certain portrayals, we create room for teaching and correction. We begin to see how people thought, how those ideas were passed down, and why truth matters.
Everything cannot simply be labeled racism. Sometimes people are trying to understand. Sometimes they are discovering history for the first time. Sometimes the conversation is not about hate, but about learning.
But if we do not talk about it, how will anyone know it?
We do not learn by erasing truth. We learn by facing it. History is meant to teach, reveal, and remind. Literature and movies can do the same. If we deny part of someone else’s history, we may also be denying our own.
We cannot learn from what we refuse to face.
Tell Me Everything: Uncovering the Truth
Our story is your story.

03/15/2026

03/10/2026

03/10/2026

Today, I stand in gratitude for the life and legacy of Reverend Jesse Jackson. I count it as a true privilege and honor to have met him, to have shared a meal with him, to have embraced him on stage, and to have heard him speak words that carried power, purpose, and promise. Those are moments I will never forget.
As I reflect on his life, I do not just see a civil rights leader. I see a man who believed in people. I see a man who spoke life into communities that had been overlooked, pushed aside, and counted out. Jesse Jackson had a way of reminding people that they were somebody. He believed that when a person knows their worth, they can rise, grow, and move forward with purpose.
For me, his impact was not only national, it was personal, and it was local. Reverend Jackson was a key figure in helping bring natural gas to Hopkins Park. Some may not see that as a major part of history, but for those of us who know what it means for a community to grow, for families to have heat in the winter, and for a town to move one step closer to opportunity, it was significant. He made a commitment to Hopkins Park, and he kept it. That matters. His word meant something, and his work made a difference.
To his family, I say thank you. Thank you for sharing your husband, your father, your grandfather, and your loved one with the world. Thank you for the sacrifices you made so that so many others could benefit from his service, his courage, and his calling. We know that a man who belongs to the people still belongs first to his family, and we are grateful that you shared him with all of us.
As I sat at his funeral and listened to the words being spoken, I was reminded again that Reverend Jesse Jackson was truly about the people. He was that country preacher who showed up when people needed him. He showed up when communities were hurting. He showed up when justice was needed. He showed up when hope had to be restored. He did not just preach about faith, he lived it. He did not just talk about justice, he pursued it.
During that time, I had the opportunity to shake Vice President Kamala Harris’s hand, and in that moment I realized even more clearly that Jesse Jackson’s reach was greater than many of us could fully imagine. His life touched the highest places and the most humble spaces. He made room for others. He opened doors. He created opportunities. And because of his life, many of us found ourselves standing in places we may never have entered otherwise.
Reverend Jesse Jackson leaves behind more than memories. He leaves behind a legacy. A legacy of faith. A legacy of courage. A legacy of fighting for those who had no voice. A legacy of reminding Black people, poor people, rural people, and all people pushed to the margins that they mattered.
And so today, we do not only mourn his passing. We honor his life. We honor his labor. We honor his commitment. We honor the seed he planted in the hearts of so many.
Reverend Jackson, thank you. Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for your leadership. Thank you for believing in people. Thank you for showing us that we are somebody. And thank you for leaving behind a legacy that will continue to speak, continue to grow, and continue to inspire generations to come.
Rest well, Reverend Jesse Jackson. Your work mattered. Your life mattered. And your legacy will never be forgotten.
Keep hope alive.