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BAD AND BADDER

Bad to the bone. That is Michael DiTomasso.

Badder still was his brother Joseph.

Growing up on Staten Island, opposing Joe in hockey often meant getting slammed into the glass—whether you volunteered or not. Together, they were The Bash Brothers.

Then Joseph died from fentanyl poisoning.

Through that tragedy, I met Michael’s wonderful parents. They welcomed me into their Italian Staten Island home with open arms, tears, stories, hugs, and enough incredible food to feed an army.

Earlier this year Michael and I stood together at Joseph’s former school as part of our New York awareness tour. We shared Joseph’s story with students in the hope that no other family would have to endure the same heartbreak.

The students listened and the media noticed.

And now Michael’s story has landed on the front page.

Today, Michael serves as New York Director for AngelArmy.com and FentanylFathers.org, helping lead our effort to warn students across the Empire State about the dangers of fentanyl.

What moves me most is the promise Michael made to his brother.

A promise made beside a casket.

A promise that Joseph’s death would not be in vain.

If you have a few minutes, please read Michael’s remarkable story. I think you’ll be as moved as I was.

The Italians have a saying about getting even.

Driven by his love for Joseph, Michael is getting even with death itself—by saving hundreds of young lives from his family’s fate.

📖 Article: https://lnkd.in/gscr5quQ

- A Staten Island Advance Front Page Story
https://www.silive.com/news/2026/05/fentanyl-killed-his-brother-a-casket-promise-drives-this-native-staten-islanders-mission-to-save-lives.html

SIBLING REUNION

Yesterday was perhaps the most special day I’ve had in over a decade.

My siblings Dave, Kath & Jo came to town — the same crew who sat around our dinner table back when families still gathered every night, shared meals, and shared life.

Often over the last ten years, I’ve come alone to this spot in the Kenbrook woods where my mother would bring us as children to read books and enjoy picnic lunches. It became a place of remembrance for me.

My ritual was to stand in this very spot and quietly recite words my mother taught us:

“All by myself, I think of you.
I think of the things we used to do.
I think of the things we used to say.
I think of each happy yesterday.

Sometimes I sigh.
Sometimes I smile.
But I keep each olden golden while
All by myself.”

Yesterday, for the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t by myself.

We laughed until we cried. We told old stories. We remembered Mom and Dad. We hugged goodbye knowing something precious:

We had the best family and the best childhood any lottery winner could ever ask for.

And for one perfect afternoon, we were kids again.

From Chicago’s “Take Me Back”:
“I wish I could be a child.”

Yesterday, sitting on our old family log in those woods with my brother and sisters, I didn’t have to wish.

https://youtu.be/ajxNLr5gz4Y?si=GNKtqn5Z3b5UDJBf

Our last assembly was today until September. 150 in Michigan alone over last two years. A cop, a few recovering addicts, a doctor and a couple of sad dads = fentanyl free kids: https://youtu.be/vIKtAbwlDe0?feature=shared

THE MOST ETHEREAL MOMENT OF MY LIFE

Yesterday I got to Joni Lamb’s funeral early enough to sit with Steve Strang - a buddy but also a VIP. When the service began - the voice of an Angel sang this song: “Holy Spirit Rest On Me” - https://youtu.be/HcPA-lMaRcQ?si=GmUJ9h01VDtwG8rq

Only after did they announce it was Joni herself singing it. At the very end of the song, the funeral director took flowers and put them on top of the open half of the casket where Joni lay in state. He slowly lowered it - ever so slowly - until she was covered - never to be seen again this side of Heaven. The finality of that moment - the weight of it - reminded me once again to get out of the Matrix and into the real game - making absolutely certain I am going to Heaven.

You got Heaven or you got nothing - as Jesus asked “What profit is there for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?”. Years ago I borrowed from Billy Graham and wrote “How To Be Absolutely Certain You’re Going To Heaven”. The Catholic AOD endorsed it - but most comforting is my late son Drew son believed it: http://drewswan.com/heavenforsure.htm

Funerals: Something so good about their message.

SMART PEOPLE GO TO FUNERALS
“The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.” — Ecclesiastes 7:4
I was at a whopper today — Joni Lamb’s funeral.
Joel Osteen wept like a baby. Kenneth Copeland was there. President Trump and Bobby Kennedy sent tributes.
The girl was a player.
But the biggest takeaway for me wasn’t the names in the room or the size of the platform. It was the reminder that life has a clock on it.
Move on your dreams.
Make the call.
Start the mission.
Take the trip.
Write the book.
Tell people you love them.
Do the thing.
Because someday the clock WILL run out.
And when it does, what matters isn’t what you planned to do.
It’s what you actually did.