The $3.2 million trust Samuel had established had dissolved our debts within forty-eight hours. The collections calls stopped overnight. The endless stacks of hospital statements—demanding tens of thousands of dollars for specialized oncology drugs—were replaced by simple, stamped receipts marked PAID IN FULL.
When you live under extreme financial pressure for decades, you learn to exist in a constant state of fight-or-flight. Even after the debt was gone, it took weeks for my body to unlearn the posture of survival. In the first month, I would still wake up at 3:00 AM in a cold sweat, reaching for my phone to check if I had missed a shift, only to realize I didn’t need to work sixteen-hour days anymore.
I hadn’t quit working entirely, but I had quit working out of desperation.
With the commercial property in downtown Seattle generating steady rental income, I resigned from my administrative job and established the Samuel Foundation for Working Parents. We set up shop in a modest brick building near the university, offering direct micro-grants, emergency childcare support, and medical relief for young, single parents who were struggling to finish their education while raising children.
