#EvanToClemson part 2 of an ongoing story “The Kid Who Wouldn’t Settle”
I didn’t ask for much.
I just put it out there the way parents do when they’ve hit a wall but still need to find a way through—honestly, simply, and without much polish. My son Evan has a dream. I’m his dad. And I’m asking. Evan wants to go to ClemsonLIFE.
Now, this is not just a typical kid, wanting to go to college. ClemsonLIFE is for intellectually challenged people – not your typical college program
What happened next stopped me in my tracks.
Within hours, my phone, my Facebook was blowing up—not with little likes or heart emojis (those too and loved) , but with real people. Friends, family, and folks I hadn’t heard from in years were flooding my messages with one resounding message:
“We’re going to make this happen.”
Nobody had to do that. Nobody was obligated. There wasn’t a link to donate to or a petition to sign. It was just a dad putting his son’s dream out into the world.
And then came mercy—through human hands, on a Tuesday, in the middle of everyone’s already full lives.
The Dream Has a Name and an Address
Evan doesn’t just want to go to college.
He wants to go to Clemson.
Not someday. Not maybe. Not if it’s convenient or works out. He wants Clemson. It’s specific. It’s stubborn. It’s unwavering in the way only a kid who knows exactly what he wants can be unwavering.
Someone asked me why not a school in Florida. Keep it close. Keep it practical. Keep it realistic.
I get that question. I really do.
But here’s what I told them, and here’s what I need you to know about Evan:
Because of his disability, my son has heard no more times than I can count.
No, you can’t do this. No, you can’t go there. No, that’s not realistic. No, that’s not for kids like you.
The world has been very comfortable telling Evan what he can’t do, where he can’t go, and what he should let go of. It’s been relentless in defining what it thinks his ceiling should be.
So when my son looks me in the eye, unwavering, and tells me he wants Clemson—not as a pipe dream, but as a plan—I’m not going to be the next voice in line telling him to aim smaller.
I just want to be able to say yes.
And I believe—wholeheartedly—that God does too.
What Mercy Looks Like on a Saturday Night
I’ve been sitting with Lamentations 3 this week:
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies are new every morning.”
I used to read that verse as something quiet—a promise for those hard mornings when you just need to remind yourself that yesterday’s weight doesn’t have to follow you into today.
But after what happened this week, I see it differently.
Sometimes mercy doesn’t come quietly. Sometimes it shows up loud, through people who decide—without being asked twice—that they’re going to be the answer.
That’s what happened. People with connections started making calls. People with knowledge started sharing it. People with influence started using it. Not for themselves, but for Evan—a kid most of them have never even met.
That’s not networking. That’s not just the internet doing what the internet does.
That’s the body of Christ in action, working exactly how it was designed to.
No Answers Yet. And That’s Okay.
Let me be real with you—this story doesn’t have an ending yet. There’s still a long road ahead. Applications to submit, conversations to have, doors that need to open.
But here’s what we do have:
- People standing in our corner who didn’t have to be there.
- A kid with a dream that refuses to shrink.
- A dad who’s done letting the world’s “no” be the final word for his son.
- And a God whose mercies showed up fresh this morning—through the people who picked up the phone, sent the message, and said, “We’re making this happen.”
You’re Invited Into This Story
We’re going to keep you updated every step of the way—every door that opens, every one that doesn’t, and every moment where faith has to carry us because the facts don’t seem to line up yet.
Because this isn’t just Evan’s story.
This is about what happens when a community decides that one kid’s dream is worth fighting for. When ordinary people become the answer to someone else’s prayer. When a dad refuses to let the world’s “no” be his son’s reality.
This is what it looks like when mercy shows up with its sleeves rolled up, ready to work.
Follow the journey. Share the story. Believe with us.
#EvanToClemson 🐅
“I just want to be able to say yes.”
We’re working on it, buddy. We’re working on it.