If I Ever Won the Lottery...

 We’ve all daydreamed about it at some point—standing in line with a lottery ticket in hand, wondering, “What if?” Most people say they’d pay off bills, build their dream home, buy a fancy car, maybe travel the world.

But for me, it’s not about extravagance. It’s about building something that matters—for myself, and for others.

If I ever hit that jackpot, the first thing I’d do is clear my debt. That freedom matters. But then, I’d disappear—not from people, but from the noise.

I'd purchase 50 acres of land. Not in the middle of nowhere exactly—but close enough. Maybe 30 miles from the nearest town. I’d buy a dependable 4-wheel drive vehicle, plant a garden, build a greenhouse, raise a few chickens, and install wind socks so I could watch the direction the wind takes each day. Maybe even reserve an acre for a solar power farm. I want a life where the pace slows down and the soil still matters.

But here’s where my dream really takes shape: I wouldn’t stop at building a life for myself. I’d reinvest in the people who’ve kept me moving all these years—especially those who often go unseen.

I'd start by wiping out school lunch debt in my community. No child should go hungry or feel shame for something out of their control. I’d pay off library fines—because stories should be shared, not blocked by bureaucracy.

And then I’d turn to the highways.

I’d buy three acres of land in different states, positioned near major highways. Just truck parking—safe, clean, and free. Nothing flashy. No fuel minimums. No strings. Just space for big rig drivers to rest without fear of being ticketed or towed.

Because here’s the truth: we’ve failed our truckers. Rest areas are closing. Cities are pushing them out. And too many nights, they’re forced to park on shoulders, off-ramps, or wherever they can squeeze in for a few hours of sleep.

That’s no way to treat the people who keep our shelves stocked, our hospitals supplied, our economy running.

Truckers deserve to know they’re appreciated—not just with words, but with places that say: we see you, and we’ve got your back.

So if I ever won the lottery, I wouldn't build a castle. I'd build a sanctuary. For land, for children, for stories—and for the people still holding the line on America’s roads.