He Spent 44 Years Saving What Others Gave Up On Now It’s Our Turn to Show Up for Eric Horridge

Sometimes God places someone in your life who changes the way you see the world. Not by preaching a sermon, delivering some grand speech, or telling you everything you ought to be doing, but by simply showing up when you need somebody. I know something about that firsthand. When Joshua Liljenquist showed up for me during my own battle to find a life-saving kidney donor, he did more than share my story with millions of people. He reminded me of something we should never forget: when we have an opportunity to do what is right for another human being, we should do it. Not tomorrow. Not when it’s convenient. Not after somebody else goes first. We show up. And now, because of what Josh showed me, I want to ask you to show up for a man named Eric Horridge.

You probably don’t know Eric. Most of America doesn’t.

He isn’t a celebrity. He doesn’t have millions of followers. He isn’t somebody whose name trends across social media every time he walks into a restaurant.

He’s a husband, a father, a craftsman, and a man who spent 44 years helping people solve problems that others couldn’t.

And today, after unimaginable heartbreak, a frightening medical emergency, and the loss of the business he spent his adult life building, Eric needs somebody to help him.

Actually, he needs all of us.

Because I’ve come to understand something through my own journey.

Sometimes the person God sends to answer somebody else’s prayer is you.

Back in 1982, Eric Horridge noticed something about the window business that didn’t make sense.

When a homeowner had a damaged wooden window, they were often told they needed to replace far more than what was actually broken. Sometimes entire window systems had to go because one window was beyond repair.

Eric thought there had to be a better way.

So he created one.

He purchased used woodworking machinery, rebuilt it himself, and taught himself how to reproduce wooden windows that matched the originals. Not cheap imitations. Not something that looked close enough from across the street.

He reproduced intricate details, historic designs, and window profiles that manufacturers had long since stopped making.

His company, Horridge Window and Glass, became a place where people could turn when they needed something that couldn’t simply be ordered from a catalog.

And for more than four decades, Eric did something remarkable.

He helped people preserve their homes, their history, and their hard-earned money.

Think about that.

In a world increasingly built around throwing things away and replacing them, Eric dedicated his life to proving that some things were worth saving.

And now, the man who spent his life saving things is fighting to save what’s left of his own.

There’s a part of Eric’s life that makes everything he’s endured even more difficult to comprehend.

In February 2000, Eric lost his little boy, Collin Gabriel Horridge, who was just 19 months old.

His son died from injuries caused by blunt-force trauma. Before Collin’s death, Eric had repeatedly expressed concerns about his safety to child protective services. Eric later pursued legal action concerning how those reports were handled, a case that reached Maryland’s highest court.

But no legal proceeding could ever give him back his little boy.

There are losses that change a person forever.

Losing a child is one of them.

And yet Eric continued getting up every morning. He continued working. He continued providing for his family and using the talents God had given him.

He carried a heartbreak that most of us cannot imagine while continuing to build something meaningful with his life.

That alone deserves our respect.

Over the past several years, the business Eric spent his life building began facing one devastating obstacle after another.

The specialized lumber he needed became increasingly difficult to find. Operating expenses climbed. Inflation pushed costs higher. The family reported serious telephone problems that interfered with customers reaching the business.

And the bills?

Well, those apparently never got the memo that the business was struggling.

They kept showing up.

Eric and his wife, Laurie, fought to keep everything together.

They searched for lumber suppliers across the country. They explored financing. They sold personal belongings. They continued trying to honor their commitments to customers even as their own finances were collapsing.

When approximately eight customer projects remained unfinished, they managed to complete six.

Six.

Even as their own world was falling apart, they were still trying to finish what they had promised other people.

Then came a moment that nobody in that family could have anticipated.

While talking with his children in the garage about saving the business and keeping the family together, Eric collapsed.

According to the family, he suffered a mini stroke and required emergency surgery, followed by complications.

Imagine being so overwhelmed by the struggle to keep everything you’ve worked for that, in the middle of discussing how to save it, your own health suddenly becomes another crisis.

And even after that, Eric kept trying.

Because that’s what people like Eric do.

They keep going until there simply isn’t anything left to give.

In October 2026, Horridge Window and Glass lost the workshop it had occupied for 19 years.

The business Eric started in 1982, built with used machinery and his own two hands, could no longer continue operating from the place that had become the center of his working life.

Nineteen years in that shop.

Forty-four years of knowledge.

A lifetime of craftsmanship.

And suddenly, the doors were closing.

But what Eric and Laurie did next is the part of this story that absolutely broke my heart.

They sold their camper to pay for storage so they could save Eric’s machinery.

Not to buy groceries for a celebration. Not to take one last vacation. Not to escape the pressure for a few days.

They sold something they owned to preserve the equipment that represented everything Eric had spent his life learning to do.

They were losing the shop, but they weren’t ready to lose the dream.

And I don’t know about you, but I think there’s something worth fighting for in that.

Because those machines are more than pieces of equipment.

They’re the tools of a man who spent 44 years helping other people.

They’re the possibility of another opportunity.

They’re a reminder that even when life knocks us down, sometimes we’re still holding on to the hope that we can get back up.

Many of you know my own story.

I’m fighting kidney failure. I’m searching for a compatible living kidney donor. And I’ve spent months trying to get my story in front of the one person who might be able to help save my life.

Along the way, something extraordinary happened.

Joshua Liljenquist showed up.

He didn’t have to.

He had his own life, his own responsibilities, his own platform, and countless other things he could have been doing.

But he took the time to see me.

He listened. He cared. He shared my story.

And because he did, millions of people who had never heard my name suddenly knew I existed.

Josh didn’t hand me a new kidney. He didn’t promise to solve every problem I was facing.

He did something that, in many ways, was just as meaningful.

He used what he had to help someone who needed what he could give.

And that changed me.

It reminded me that compassion isn’t something we’re supposed to collect for ourselves and keep in a jar.

It’s something we’re supposed to pass along.

I cannot spend every day asking the world to see me while ignoring somebody else who desperately needs to be seen.

That would miss the entire point of what Josh showed me.

So today, I’m asking you to help me do for Eric what Josh did for me.

Let’s use whatever platforms, relationships, resources, and voices we have to help another human being.

Because when somebody shows up for you, one of the greatest ways to honor that kindness is to show up for somebody else.

In Luke 15, Jesus tells the story of a shepherd who has one hundred sheep.

When one goes missing, the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine in the wilderness and goes after the one that is lost until he finds it.

He doesn’t say, “Well, I’ve still got ninety-nine. That’s a pretty good percentage.”

He doesn’t decide that one sheep isn’t worth the trouble.

And he certainly doesn’t wait around hoping somebody else will handle it.

He goes after the one.

Because the one matters.

And that’s the part I want every person reading this to understand.

God held the ninety-nine for the one. And so shall we.

Not because the other ninety-nine are unimportant.

Not because Eric’s struggles are greater than everybody else’s.

But because we have an opportunity, right here and right now, to help one person and one family who desperately need a reason to believe that tomorrow can be better than today.

Today, Eric Horridge is THE ONE.

The one who spent 44 years helping others.

The one who buried his little boy and somehow found the strength to continue.

The one whose health was shaken while he was trying to save his family’s future.

The one who lost his workshop and sold his camper just to preserve the tools of his trade.

The one who needs somebody to say, “I see you, Eric. And I’m not going to pretend I don’t.”

I know what it feels like to need that kind of compassion.

And I know what it means when somebody finally shows up.

Now I want to issue a very specific challenge to the radio stations, morning shows, afternoon personalities, program directors, owners, and broadcasters throughout Dallas, Fort Worth, Denton, and the surrounding North Texas communities.

Help us make Eric Horridge impossible to overlook.

I’m calling on the stations across the Metroplex, from the biggest signals to the smallest local operations.

You have microphones. You have audiences. You have relationships with businesses, community leaders, and people who can make things happen.

Use them.

Invite Eric or Laurie to tell their story. Introduce your listeners to this family. Share the campaign. Ask local businesses whether they can help.

Somewhere in North Texas, there may be a lumber supplier who can provide the materials Eric needs.

There may be a business owner with a workshop or an opportunity.

There may be a preservation organization that recognizes the value of Eric’s extraordinary craftsmanship.

And there may be someone listening who simply wants to help this family get back on its feet.

Radio has spent generations bringing communities together.

Here’s a chance to do it again.

And to every television station, newspaper, digital creator, church, business owner, and community organization in North Texas, that invitation extends to you, too.

You don’t have to be famous to make a difference.

You just have to care enough to do something.

I’m not asking you to contribute because Eric deserves a comfortable retirement or because every business that closes should automatically be rescued.

I’m asking because this family has endured a series of devastating circumstances, exhausted resources trying to meet obligations, and reached a point where outside help could make a meaningful difference.

Eric and Laurie need breathing room.

They need help navigating the financial aftermath of losing the business.

They need an opportunity to preserve the specialized equipment that could allow Eric’s knowledge and craftsmanship to remain useful.

They need a chance to stabilize their lives and explore what comes next.

And they need to know that decades of hard work haven’t made them invisible.

That’s why we’re inviting everyone who can to stand with them through a GiveSendGo campaign.

HELP ERIC AND LAURIE HORRIDGE

GiveSendGo Campaign: https://www.givesendgo.com/the-power-of-one-help-eric-and-laurie-ho

If you can contribute $5, thank you.

If you can contribute $25, thank you.

If you’re in a position to do something substantial, this family could certainly use your consideration.

But please understand something.

This isn’t just about money.

If you own a business, perhaps you have an opportunity.

If you work in woodworking, manufacturing, construction, or historic preservation, perhaps you have a connection.

If you have a social media platform, perhaps you can introduce Eric to somebody who can help.

And if all you can do is share this story, don’t underestimate what that can accomplish.

I am living proof that one person sharing a story can change the size of the audience almost overnight.

The right person may never see Eric’s story unless somebody takes a moment to pass it along.

We live in a world where people can become internet sensations for doing absolutely nothing remarkable.

Someone drops a birthday cake. Millions watch.

Someone argues with a self-checkout machine. The internet loses its collective mind.

Someone’s dog learns to open the refrigerator, and suddenly the dog has a sponsorship deal and a better retirement plan than half the country.

And you know what? Sometimes we need those laughs.

But surely we can find a little room in all that noise for Eric Horridge.

Surely a man who spent 44 years helping families preserve their homes deserves a few minutes of our attention.

Surely we can do something meaningful for a family that has endured so much.

And surely we can prove that kindness still has the power to travel farther than outrage.

I don’t know exactly what tomorrow holds for Eric and Laurie.

I cannot promise that every problem will disappear or that this story will produce some miraculous overnight transformation.

But I do know this.

When Josh Liljenquist showed up for me, he demonstrated that one person can set something extraordinary in motion.

He showed me that doing the right thing doesn’t require a committee meeting, a public relations strategy, or somebody else’s permission.

Sometimes it simply requires seeing another human being and deciding that their struggle matters.

So I’m choosing to show up for Eric.

And I’m asking you to join me.

Let’s put this story in front of North Texas.

Let’s put it in front of America.

Let’s put it in front of people who have the resources, connections, and compassion to make a difference.

Let’s help a man who spent his life saving what others gave up on discover that the world hasn’t given up on him.

God held the ninety-nine for the one.

And so shall we.

Today, Eric Horridge is the one.

Tomorrow, it may be somebody else.

And if we keep showing up for one another, perhaps we’ll build the kind of world where nobody has to wonder whether anyone cares enough to come looking.

Josh showed up for me. I’m showing up for Eric. Now I’m asking you to show up with us.

Let’s Love Out Loud.

Let’s make Eric Horridge visible.

And let’s give this family something they haven’t had enough of lately.

Hope.

On The Dial believes the greatest stories aren’t always about famous people, powerful corporations, or the next big headline. Sometimes they’re about ordinary people facing extraordinary circumstances and the remarkable things that can happen when a community decides to care. This is one of those stories. And we intend to keep telling it because one person matters.

One family. One opportunity. One act of kindness that could change everything.

#LoveOutLoud | #DoYouSeeMe

#HelpEricHorridge #EricHorridge #LoveOutLoud #DoYouSeeMe #NorthTexasStrong #DallasFortWorth #DentonTexas #FaithInAction #HumanityStillExists #KindnessMatters #SecondChances #BeTheDifference