“They said my name and flipped it open while I was waiting there. Whoa! The confetti drops. Holding the card that AGT host Terry Cruz used to declare the winner, Richard Goodall exclaimed, “Magic.”
It has taken a while to hear his name. In the spring, Goodall began the audition process. Everything started when a video of him singing to West Vigo pupils was uploaded on Tik Tok. Among those who witnessed it was AGT judge Howie Mandell.
Howie Mandell stated from the AGT red carpet, “When I saw him, when he stepped on our stage, you felt the love that not only I had for him, but the hope he would win.” “You just knew that everyone at home would feel the same strong urge to cast a ballot.”
And voters did. He ranked #1 according to viewer votes. That same engaging charisma won over other judges as well.
“In the competition, he made such progress. America grew to love him. the actual individual. the actual dream. After today, his life will change,” AGT Judge Sophia Vigara remarked.
“I get chills just thinking about him singing on that stage,” the person said. It truly is lovely. He has a lovely voice. He’s really delicious, Heidi Klum, an AGT judge, continued.
Goodall expressed gratitude to WTWO on the red carpet for sharing his trip.
“You guys have supported me the entire way,” “You guys have supported me throughout the entire process,” grinned Goodall.
Additionally, he commended the Wabash Valley residents for their unwavering support.
“Wabash Valley, Terre Haute, Indiana, is appreciated. In an emotional moment, Goodall bowed his head and murmured, “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Goodall mentioned that one of her “top shelf” bucket list items was to sing with the band “Journey.”
Regarding his future goals, he mentioned going back to work as a school janitor for a short spell. In addition, he mentioned wanting to purchase a home with his wife Angie. Despite having strong ties to Terre Haute, he admitted that he could consider purchasing a home in Florida as he dislikes the harsh Indiana winters.
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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