About 15 years ago, Richard Sandrak, who moved from Ukraine to the United States, was called the strongest boy in the world.
Richard started to exercise seriously when he was just a child. And at the age of 8 he could bench-press with more than 30 pounds! At 11 years of age he lifted 53 pounds!
Now he’s 24 years old and it’s hard to call him a jock.
Once he was given the nickname «Little Hercules», he was constantly invited to competitions, TV-shows, commercials, magazines and even movies. That’s why Richard’s family moved to California, so the son could fully realize himself.
Training, nutrition, regime — these points were monitored by the boy’s father — a former world champion in martial arts. Very often the man was criticized for abusing his son and putting a lot of pressure on him.
And when Richard was 11 years old, he called the police when his father assaulted his mother. The man was put in jail for domestic violence.
The boy stopped communicating with his father and no longer recognized him. For a while he was still practicing, but gradually it became less and less.
At the moment Richard says: «I am very proud of my achievements as a child, I am not ashamed of them and I do not try to hide this page of my life from anyone. And he adds: «I just don’t want to live like that anymore.» «They tried to make me look like some kind of abomination of nature.»
Now Richard continues to exercise, but not as fanatically. He runs every morning and also likes skateboarding. By profession, he is a stuntman at the show «Waterworld» in Los Angeles, where he is set on fire at least five times a day, and then he has to dive into the water from a great height.
Once he was asked what he wanted to be, his answer was surprising: «A scientist, doing quantum physics… or an engineer at NASA. Why not»?
Living Across from a Cemetery, I Saw a Baby Left by One of the Graves on Halloween Night — Story of the Day
On Halloween night, I thought I’d just be handing out candy, but I saw something I never expected—a baby, alone in a car seat by a grave. I rushed outside, heart racing.
Halloween had always been my favorite. I loved decorating and handing out candy. But two years ago, I lost my daughter, and with her, my husband. Now, I was alone.
That night, after the candy ran out, I saw the car seat. I approached it, finding a baby girl inside. There was a note: “Amanda, one and a half years old.” I called the police, but no one had reported her missing. I asked if I could take her home. They agreed.
Caring for Amanda was hard, but I fell in love with her. She filled the void in my life. Then, one morning, a knock on the door brought a police officer and Amanda’s grandmother, Carol, to take her back. Reluctantly, I handed Amanda over, my heart breaking.
Later, I realized Carol had abandoned Amanda. I called my ex-husband, John, for help. We took Carol to court and won custody. I was granted permission to adopt Amanda.
As John walked away after the trial, I called him back, asking him to join us for dinner. That night, I became a mother again, and hope returned. Halloween had brought me Amanda.
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