💬 Alan Jackson quietly helps 72-year-old man rebuild his home after the flood: “I used to hear him on the radio… now he’s helping me stand again” Harold, 72, has lived his entire life in Kerrville. He vividly remembers hearing Alan Jackson’s “Remember When” on his old radio — back when his wife was still alive. They used to slow dance in the kitchen whenever the song came on. Every lyric felt like a memory being held gently. Last week, the flood took nearly everything he had — wedding photos, books, the old rocking chair where he read his Bible. Harold didn’t blame anyone. He just thought: maybe I’m too old to start over. But then someone knocked on his door — a young man in a volunteer hat. “I’m from the Still Standing Fund — founded by Alan Jackson. Do you need help, sir?” Harold thought he misheard. But then came the wood, the nails, the quiet hands helping him rebuild — each one carrying the same steady, humble spirit as the artist he’d admired all his life. “I used to call him my favorite singer,” Harold shared. “But now… I call him a friend.” A friend who showed up in his darkest hour — and reminded him that even in old age, you can begin again… as long as you’re not left alone.

Amid countless heartbreaking stories from the historic Texas flood, one quiet moment stood out — a moment that moved thousands: Alan Jackson helped a 72-year-old man rebuild the home he had lost.

Harold, a lifelong resident of Kerrville, once listened to Alan Jackson’s “Remember When” in his kitchen with his late wife. When the flood came, he didn’t just lose his house — he lost everything that held a lifetime of memories: wedding photos, worn-out books, the old wooden rocking chair where he used to read his Bible every morning.

“I didn’t think I could start over at this age,” Harold said. “But then a young man knocked on my door and said, ‘I’m here from the Still Standing Fund — started by Alan Jackson.’ I thought I misheard.”

And from that moment on, something that once seemed impossible began to happen.

No TV crews. No big announcements. Just young volunteers — representing a singer they’d never met — bringing in building materials, raising walls, and carefully laying down pieces of a life that floodwaters had tried to wash away.

This wasn’t the first time Alan Jackson quietly did the right thing.
Since launching the Still Standing Fund, Alan had emphasized: “We’re not just helping them through the storm… we’re staying when the cameras are gone.”
His fund focuses on long-term relief, working directly with churches, schools, and local organizations to ensure help goes to the people who truly need it — no middlemen, no waste.

Harold’s story may not be unique — but it’s a powerful reminder of the strength of quiet kindness:
when a song that once lived in someone’s memory becomes the roof over their head, rebuilt with compassion.

“I used to call him my favorite singer,” Harold said. “But now… I call Alan Jackson a friend.”

In the midst of chaos, some people choose to stay — not for the fame, but simply because it’s the right thing to do.
And maybe that’s the truest spirit of country: quiet, steady, and never leaving anyone behind.