04.01.2026

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It was Saturday, March 28, 2026.

At 4:15 that morning, the alarm went off. Outside, it was 32 degrees, pitch black, and quiet in that eerie, almost holy kind of way the world feels before sunrise. My two boys, my cousin Jay, and I stepped into the woods and started climbing a monster ridgeline in the heart of the Shawnee National Forest.

By the time we reached the top, the first crack of sunlight was pushing over the horizon. The day was waking up, and so were the woods.

It was youth turkey season, and this hunt mattered.

My middle son, Mason, is 17, and this was his final youth hunt. But he wasn’t just carrying any shotgun that morning. He was hunting with a gun that belonged to our late friend Terry Murphy.

Murph, as everyone called him, loved three things deeply: hunting, coffee, and time with friends. He had a way of making every camp, every conversation, and every hunt feel like it mattered. After his passing, our friend group made it a goal to each harvest a turkey with his hunting tool. It was our way of keeping his legacy alive, one spring morning at a time.

And that morning, the woods were absolutely alive.

Turkeys were sounding off everywhere. The ridge was ringing with gobbles. It felt like one of those rare mornings where anything could happen.

Then it did.

One bird hit the ground and started our way.

He was curious. Interested. Committed.

But if you’ve ever hunted, you know how quickly a perfect plan can turn into a painful pause.

That gobbler got within 20 yards, then slipped behind trees that blocked any clean shot. For over a minute, he stood just out of reach, gobbling over and over right in front of us. So close we could feel the moment. So close we could lose it.

Multiple times, it felt like the magic was about to slip away.

But it didn’t.

In the end, the bird was harvested.

We celebrated right there on that ridge, not just because of the success of the hunt, but because of what it represented. Legacy. Brotherhood. Patience. Presence. Memory.

As we took pictures and packed out to the truck, I felt something deeper settle over me. It felt less like a hunt and more like a therapy session in the woods.

And somewhere on that walk, this thought hit me:

Moments like these are created. They do not simply rely on chance.

Yes, there is always an element you cannot control. In the woods, in leadership, in life. But this moment did not happen by accident.

We had an idea.

We made a plan.

We got the right people together around a common goal.

We woke up early.

We climbed the ridge.

We stayed patient.

We adjusted when things got complicated.

And when the moment came, we were ready.

That is how meaningful things get done.

In schools, in business, and in life, big wins usually do not come from random luck. They come from clarity, collaboration, adjustment, and action.

Define the task at hand.

Gather your people.

Adjust as the plan develops.

And when the work pays off, celebrate.

That is how winning is done.

Have a recent win in your life? I'd love to hear about it. Hit reply and share away!

In a lot of ways, that is what Murph taught me every time I saw him. He reminded me that the best things in life rarely happen by accident.
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They are built with belief, brotherhood, patience, and purpose.
In the woods, in schools, and in leadership, winning is not wishful thinking.
It is a shared plan, steady adjustment, and a celebration when the work pays off.

Onward >>>>>

Tom

#TeamBOOM

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