When our mother passed away in 2006, my three brothers and I were dumbfounded. All we knew was our mother, and all we had was each other. In a word, we were lost.

At the time, LaCourtney was 19 years old with a newborn daughter.  Various family members offered us a room in their house, a spot on the couch—but no one had enough room for all four of us brothers and my niece.

None of us wanted to separate, but that meant someone had to step up.

That someone was LaCourtney. LaCourtney, as a 19-year-old, became our single parent figure. He gave up his dreams of college, his dreams of striking out on his own, to care for us and keep our family together. He worked to put food on the table, pay the bills, keep the lights on, and make sure all three of us were going to school and staying on the right track. All of a sudden, LaCourtney took on the role of father, mother, brother, and guardian—all so we could make something of ourselves.

Without LaCourtney and his sacrifices, who can say where I would be today? Would I be a college graduate? Would I be an NFL hopeful? Would I have the values I have today? He gave up so much of his vision and his life to make a good home for me and my brothers, and I can never be grateful enough for his sacrifice.