There are no accidents.
What many people call coincidence, I call providence. A coincidence is when God chooses anonymous.
I was reminded of that truth at the Strength of America dinner hosted by Weaponization Watch at the Waldorf Astoria in Washington, D.C.
Before dinner began, I noticed Angela Stanton-King speaking with former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich. There was something striking about her presence. It was the quiet strength of someone who had survived hardship and emerged with purpose.
When the program started, we went our separate ways.
Then came the first coincidence.
When dinner began, Angela's assigned seat was next to mine.
As we talked, she shared parts of her remarkable story. Imprisoned years ago, she endured the unimaginable horror of giving birth while chained to a hospital bed. No woman should ever have to welcome a child into the world in shackles. Yet she survived and thrived. President Trump pardoned her.
That daughter just graduated from MIT.
She told me about another painful chapter. Homeless, broken, and overwhelmed by despair, she reached a point where she considered taking her own life and the lives of her children. Then came another "coincidence." Someone handed her a bus token and directed her to a homeless shelter in Atlanta. There, a compassionate woman took her in, listened, cared, and ultimately helped save her life. One act of kindness changed everything.
As a Catholic involved in prison ministry, I have met many people who believe their mistakes define them forever. Angela's story is a powerful reminder that redemption is real and that God often works through ordinary people at extraordinary moments.
Then the coincidences began piling up.
She asked where I was originally from.
"Buffalo."
Her eyes widened. Her family came from the same neighborhood.
We started naming churches from Buffalo's East Side. Saint Gabriel's. Familiar streets. Familiar memories. Places where we've both knew and have been.
Then came another surprise. Members of her family currently live around the corner from where my mother-in-law lives.
She asked where I went to high school.
"Performing Arts High School."
Her jaw dropped.
"Do you know Lee Matthews?"
Of course I knew Lee Matthews. I was the play-by-play announcer for our high school basketball team. Lee was our star center, and a friend.
Lee Matthews is Angela's brother.
I was floored.
Then came the moment that left us both speechless.
When we exchanged phone numbers, I discovered hers was already in my phone. No idea how. I can't remember where. But Angela's name and number was already programmed in my cell.
I've spent decades in journalism and politics. I've attended more fundraisers, banquets, campaign events, and "rubber chicken dinners" than I can count. Most are forgotten while I'm still in the room.
This one was different.
Before the evening ended, Angela agreed to join me on the soon-to-be-launched South Shore Press Podcast, and we promised to stay in touch.
Some people will call what happened coincidence.
I won't.
After all the connections, conversations, and revelations, I left convinced that I had experienced something far greater than chance.
It was a Holy Spirit moment.
There are no accidents.
Sometimes God signs His name.
Sometimes He chooses anonymous.