MUST SEE: President Trump Reveals Anonymous Person Who Wanted To Pay Troops $130 Million During Shutdown pss (xaw)
MUST SEE: President Trump Reveals Anonymous Person Who Wanted To Pay Troops $130 Million During Shutdown
An anonymous donor stepped in to cover $130 million in military salaries during the ongoing government shutdown, President Donald J. Trump announced Thursday.
The donation ensures that U.S. service members continue to receive paychecks despite the obstructionist Democrat-led shutdown that has paralyzed Washington.
Trump, addressing supporters, called the donor a “friend” of the military and the nation, emphasizing that the contribution was made with no desire for recognition.
“This is what true American patriots do,” Trump said, highlighting the generosity and commitment to the men and women in uniform who protect the nation every day.
Pentagon spokesman Sean Parnell confirmed Friday that the Department of War had accepted the $130 million donation under its general gift acceptance authority.
The funds are specifically earmarked to offset the cost of service members’ salaries and benefits, a move designed to shield troops from the chaos caused by Democratic inaction.
Millions of federal employees have already faced delayed paychecks and shuttered offices on day 24 of the shutdown, the second-longest in U.S. history.
Experts in the mainstream media and liberal think tanks have raised questions about the legality of such a donation, but conservatives argue that the priority is ensuring troops are paid, not political games.
Romina Boccia of the Cato Institute warned about congressional restrictions, but Trump’s administration is clearly focused on practical solutions rather than bureaucratic delays.
Article I of the Constitution gives Congress the power of the purse, yet when Democrats choose to weaponize government shutdowns against service members, patriotism finds its own path.
The anonymous donor represents the type of American who steps up when the federal government fails, a silent hero acting in the national interest.
Under Pentagon rules, gifts above $10,000 are vetted to ensure no conflicts of interest, yet the administration has confirmed the donation passed all necessary scrutiny.
The magnitude of the gift demonstrates both the urgency of the crisis and the level of support that the American people have for the military, something Democrats consistently fail to respect.
Defense officials did not reveal whether the donor is a U.S. citizen or a foreign national, but the focus remains squarely on honoring the troops.
The government shutdown has created a humanitarian crisis for federal employees and disrupted programs, but Trump’s leadership has ensured that the military does not suffer.
Covering military pay for the first half of October cost roughly $6.5 billion. While $130 million may seem small, it represents a critical lifeline during a period of unprecedented bureaucratic gridlock.
Trump praised the anonymous donor’s patriotism, noting that this contribution directly offsets the shortfall caused by Democrats refusing to pass a spending bill.
“He called us and said, ‘I’d like to contribute personally because I love the military and I love the country,’” Trump told supporters, highlighting the personal devotion behind the donation.
By contrast, Democrats in Washington continue to stall funding bills, leaving tens of millions of Americans in uncertainty and undermining essential government operations.
Critics may argue over legality, but conservatives insist that morality and duty to the troops outweigh procedural nitpicking when soldiers are waiting for their paychecks.
The anonymous donation underscores a broader point: real Americans, not career politicians, are stepping up to protect the country and its defenders.
Trump donor's $130M to pay troops during shutdown. It would cover seven hours each.
WASHINGTON – The $130 million that a wealthy donor to President Donald Trump gave to pay troops' salaries amid the government shutdown is enough to cover them for seven hours of work.
The hours are ticking down to Oct. 31, when members of the military are expecting their next paycheck. The government has yet to announce how it will fund their salaries.
Axios reported Oct. 29 that the Pentagon had scraped together around $5.3 billion to pay troops from other Defense Department funds.
Vice President JD Vance said on Oct. 28 that "we believe" some troops, but not all, would be paid.
More: Pentagon accepts anonymous $130 million donation from Trump 'friend' to pay military
"Unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to pay everybody, because we’ve been handed a very bad hand by the Democrats," he said.
Federal coffers have been frozen for nearly a month, since Democrats on Oct. 1 refused to vote in favor of Trump's spending priorities, sending the government into a shutdown.
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More than 700,000 government workers are furloughed and barred from working. Employees deemed essential for national security, including Defense Department employees who are not in the military, are required to continue working without pay.
The Defense Department did not share details about how it would move funds to pay troops and referred USA TODAY to the Office of Management and Budget.
"President Trump is continuing to make good on his promise to take care of the troops despite the fact Democrats have shut down the government and are fine with our bravest men and women getting no pay," it said in a statement.
A $130 million donation
Trump told reporters on Oct. 23 that “a friend of mine” had offered to cover “any shortfall you have with the military.”
“Today, he sent us a check for $130 million,” Trump added.
The donor was later revealed by the New York Times to be Timothy Mellon, a reclusive billionaire who gave at least $150 million to Trump’s presidential campaign, according to public records.
Trump donor's gift amounts to $100 for each servicemember
Those funds would be a tiny fraction of a week's pay for each recipient.
During the last completed pay period, around $6.5 billion covered the cost of paying active duty troops, according to Todd Harrison, a Pentagon budget expert and senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute.
More: Will a paycheck arrive? Shutdown leaves military families in limbo
Relative to that amount, Mellon's gift would have covered payroll for less than seven hours. Evenly distributed to the nearly 1.3 million active-duty members of the military, it would amount to around $100 each.
The Pentagon requested $194.7 billion to pay troops for the entirety of 2026, which breaks down to about $8 billion per bimonthly paycheck.
Servicemembers' last paycheck came through on Oct. 15 after Trump ordered Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth to move $8 billion of military funding to pay troops. The Pentagon pulled the money from its research and development funds.
Around $1.5 billion of that money is left over, by Harrison’s calculations.
Now that the precedent has been set, the Pentagon should be able to move other untapped funds to make payroll, he said. “They have more than enough money to keep doing that for months.”
During the last government shutdown, which began in late 2018, Congress passed a bill to get troops the money they were due. Lawmakers voted down a similar measure on Oct. 23.
Skipping the appropriations process
Defense Department spokesperson Sean Parnell said the donation was accepted under the department’s “general gift acceptance authority.”
Experts say that’s not how it works – and that such a donation would be the first of its kind.
Donations to the government are accepted into the Treasury Department – which holds the government's cash – and then disbursed based on congressional appropriations – rules set by Congress about how they can be distributed – just like other federal funds.
“Any money donated to the federal government goes into the Treasury. That doesn’t mean that an agency has the authority to take it out,” said Philip Candreva, a professor of national security policy and budgeting at Duke University.
“If there’s not an appropriation, you can’t pull that out of the Treasury.”
Normally, there would be consequences for such a move. Candreva said the department’s comptroller could issue a report on a violation of spending rules.
But, like other precedent-breaking moves by the Trump administration, using this money would have little punitive impact on a president or agency head like Hegseth.
Firefighters rescued 8 puppies from a manhole: shortly after they discovered they were not puppies
Firefighters rescued 8 puppies from a manhole: shortly after they discovered they were not puppies
The morning had barely broken when the Colorado fire station received an unusual call. A nervous voice on the other end reported faint cries coming from a storm drain at the edge of a city park. “They sound like puppies,” the caller said breathlessly. “They’re trapped down there—you have to come quickly!”
Captain Marco didn’t waste a moment. He signaled to his crew, and within minutes, the firetruck was racing through quiet streets, sirens piercing the cold dawn. Every firefighter knew that when small lives were at risk, hesitation was not an option.
When they reached the park, a small crowd had already gathered. Parents pulled their children closer, whispering anxiously, while an elderly man pointed toward the open drain. “I heard them all night,” he muttered. “They’ll drown if no one helps.”
Elena, one of the newest recruits but already respected for her steady nerves, knelt beside the opening. She pressed her ear close and heard the whimpering for herself—soft, frightened sounds echoing up from the dark. Her chest tightened. Growing up, she had rescued stray dogs more than once, and she could not ignore the desperation of what she believed to be abandoned puppies.
The drain was deeper than expected. Moss coated the damp stone, and the air smelled of stagnant water. A rope was secured quickly, and without hesitation, Elena volunteered to go down. The others exchanged glances but trusted her courage. As she lowered herself into the narrow shaft, the beam of her flashlight cut through the shadows.
At the far end, huddled together, were eight tiny shapes. They shivered and squeaked, helpless and pitiful. From above, the crowd gasped as Elena carefully placed the small bodies into a canvas rescue bag lowered by her team. One by one, the creatures were pulled into daylight.
When Elena finally climbed out, the onlookers erupted in cheers. Mothers wiped tears from their eyes, children clapped, and someone shouted, “Heroes!” For a brief moment, the firefighters believed their mission had ended in triumph. But destiny had more to reveal.
Back at the station, the firefighters placed the rescued animals on a blanket. Marco leaned in, his brow furrowed. Something wasn’t right. Their snouts looked too pointed, their ears sharper than any puppy’s, and their cries carried a wild, unfamiliar edge.
Elena reached out, brushing a finger against one tiny head. To her shock, the creature bared its teeth and snapped—not a playful nibble, but an instinctive, feral bite. The room fell silent.
“These aren’t dogs,” Marco murmured.
To settle their doubts, the team rushed the animals to Dr. Isabelle, the town’s experienced veterinarian. She examined them carefully, adjusting her glasses, then looked up with a small smile. “You haven’t rescued puppies,” she announced. “They’re fox cubs—barely a few days old.”
The firefighters blinked in astonishment. The idea that wild foxes had been mistaken for house dogs seemed absurd, yet the evidence was undeniable. Relief turned to unease: what would happen to these wild creatures now?
Though grateful the cubs were safe, Marco knew they couldn’t survive long without their mother. “We need to find her,” he insisted.
That evening, the team returned to the park, this time carrying the cubs in a soft-lined box. They followed faint paw prints in the mud, weaving between trees and benches. Hours passed with no sign of the vixen. The cubs grew restless, squealing for nourishment.
Finally, near the edge of the forest, Elena froze. Two golden eyes glowed in the underbrush. The mother had been there all along, watching in silence. She crept forward cautiously, her muscles taut with fear and determination.
The firefighters stepped back. Marco knelt, set down the box, and whispered, “They’re yours.”
The cubs tumbled out clumsily, squealing. The vixen rushed forward, nudging and licking them frantically. The sight was so raw, so powerful, that several firefighters felt tears sting their eyes. Even hardened Marco blinked away emotion.
As the firefighters prepared to leave, they noticed movement in the shadows. The vixen was not alone. Another fox appeared. And another. Soon half a dozen foxes encircled the reunion, their amber eyes fixed on the humans. Their bodies were lean, their stance deliberate, as if silently warning the intruders.
“Are we being surrounded?” Elena whispered.
The largest fox stepped forward, barking sharply. To the firefighters’ shock, the others responded in unison, their cries harmonizing in a rhythm that seemed deliberate.
Dr. Isabelle, who had joined them out of curiosity, turned pale. “Foxes don’t behave like this,” she muttered. “They’re solitary by nature… this is something else.”
The air thickened with tension. From deeper in the forest, more eyes glittered. A dozen. Two dozen. An entire assembly of foxes emerged, moving as if summoned to a ritual. Their formation grew into a living wall, separating the humans from the vixen and her cubs.
Marco slowly raised his hands. “We should leave,” he said firmly. “This is their world, not ours.”
The firefighters began to back away. As they did, the forest erupted in cries—not hostile, but haunting, echoing like an ancient chant. The air seemed alive, vibrating with energy. The foxes weren’t merely protecting their young; they were guarding something older, something sacred.
When the last firefighter reached the road, the cries abruptly stopped. Silence fell heavy and complete. The foxes melted back into the trees, taking their secret with them.
The drive back to the station was quiet. None of the crew spoke, but all shared the same uneasy thought: they had stumbled upon something beyond human understanding.
Elena sat in the back, staring out at the dark forest shrinking behind them. She replayed the golden eyes, the synchronized cries, the eerie coordination. They had saved the cubs, yes, but in doing so they had uncovered a hidden truth—that not all stories end with simple relief. Some end with questions, whispers, and mysteries that linger long after the night is gone.
And in the days that followed, the town whispered too. Parents warned their children not to wander near the drains. Old men shook their heads knowingly. The park seemed the same by daylight, but those who had been there that night felt differently. Something untamed watched from the trees.
What truly lived beneath the streets and beyond the forest? No one dared to answer, but everyone felt the same chilling certainty: the foxes knew more than they revealed.
When I cut the lemon, I noticed something inside and was amazed to find out what it was.
The Lemon That Changed Everything
I had always thought of my daily routines as dull, predictable things—grocery shopping, organizing the kitchen, preparing tea before bed. Yesterday, however, those simple habits turned into something I could never have imagined.
I went about my errands just like any other day. The supermarket was buzzing with its usual rhythm—families choosing fruit, elderly couples discussing bread, children tugging at their parents’ sleeves. I filled my cart with the ordinary: vegetables, milk, and a few bright lemons. Their fresh scent always made my tea taste better, so I made sure to pick the ripest ones.
When I returned home, I placed everything in the fridge, humming absentmindedly. Barely an hour later, I decided to make tea. I pulled out a lemon, placed it on the cutting board, and sliced through the yellow skin. That was the exact moment my world shifted.
The knife revealed something unusual inside. At first glance, I thought it was just a bad fruit, but the pattern was so strange that I froze. It wasn’t just discolored pulp—it looked like a starburst of black spreading across the juicy flesh, as if someone had painted it from within. My hands trembled, and I stepped back instinctively.
I quickly snapped a picture and sent it to my mother, asking if she had ever seen something like it. While waiting for her reply, I kept staring at the slice, the way the dark lines seemed too deliberate, almost like a symbol. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. Mom’s voice message came through: “That’s a fungus, sweetheart. Alternaria citri. Throw it away immediately!”
But her tone carried something else—a hesitation I couldn’t quite place. Her voice wavered, as if she was leaving something unsaid. My pulse quickened.
I picked up the lemon again, determined to see more. I sliced deeper, and with every cut, the black veins grew sharper, twisting into a shape that sent chills down my spine. The star pattern was no longer random—it looked like an eye staring back at me.
Suddenly, I remembered the cashier at the supermarket. A young man with piercing blue eyes who had smiled at me a little too long when scanning the lemons. “Careful with these,” he had said cryptically, before placing them in the bag. At the time, I thought he was joking. But now, that memory felt far more sinister.
I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled out another lemon from the fridge, sliced it open—and there it was again. The same black eye. The third lemon revealed something worse: the shape wasn’t just an eye anymore. It resembled a hand with five stretched fingers, reaching outward.
Panic gripped me. Was this just a bizarre coincidence of nature, or something deliberately placed in my path? My rational side screamed fungus, science, nothing more. But my instincts whispered otherwise.
I tried to steady myself by making the tea, ignoring the sliced fruit staring back at me. As the kettle whistled, I noticed something on the counter: faint black dust, like spores, had fallen from the lemon. I wiped it quickly, but when I looked closer, the dust had arranged itself into a word.
“LOOK.”
I gasped, dropping the cloth. My first thought was to run out of the house. But instead, I picked up the lemon once more. For reasons I can’t explain, I pressed the blackened core. To my shock, the pulp gave way, revealing a tiny scrap of paper curled inside.
Hands shaking, I pulled it free. The note was fragile, damp with juice, but still legible. It read: “Not everything rotten is dead. Some things wait.”
I stumbled back, nearly spilling the tea. Who could have placed this inside a lemon? Why those words? I checked the rest of the fruit, desperate for answers. Another lemon contained nothing unusual, but the last one held a second note, smaller and harder to read: “At midnight, follow the orchard path.”
I stared at the clock—10:47 p.m. Curiosity battled fear. By 11:30, I found myself walking toward the edge of town, where an old abandoned orchard stood. The moonlight guided my way, silvering the trees. Every step felt like a mistake, but something stronger than logic pulled me forward.
At exactly midnight, I reached the center of the orchard. There, under the oldest lemon tree, a figure waited. It was the cashier. His eyes gleamed in the dark, the same piercing blue that had unsettled me before.
“You found the signs,” he said quietly. “Most people throw them away. But you… you listened.”
I wanted to demand answers, but no words came. He held up a lemon, identical to mine, and sliced it open with a small knife. Inside was the same black star pattern. “This fruit,” he whispered, “is the gate. Few notice. Fewer dare to follow.”
The ground beneath the tree seemed to pulse, as though the roots were alive with something unseen. Before I could step back, the soil cracked open, revealing a faint golden glow. The cashier dropped the lemon core into the opening, and the light grew brighter, spilling across the orchard.
I shielded my eyes, my heart racing. When I looked again, the man was gone. Only the glow remained, and the lemons on the trees around me began to darken, each one bearing that same black eye.
I fled, stumbling back toward home, clutching the two notes. Even now, I don’t know what I witnessed. Maybe it was a warning, maybe an invitation. But I do know this: I will never look at a lemon the same way again.
And if you ever slice one open and find that black star inside—whatever you do, think twice before throwing it away.
