Films-4-Good

TONIGHT, 8 PM EST, FREE ONLINE SHOWING, BUT ADVANCE REGISTRATION REQUIRED...AND IT'S A LITTLE TRICKY, SO BEST TO DO IT IN ADVANCE!!

TOMORROW, WEDNESDAY,5/6, 8 PM EST, FREE ONLINE SHOWING, ADVANCE REGISTRATION REQUIRED!

Free to all...no AARP membership needed! Any questions or for assistance, go to: thejourneyhome.video and fill in the contact form!!!

MONTCO! TODAY AT 3 PM, AT MONTGOMERY COUNTY COMMU ITY COLLEGE POTTSTOWN CAMPUS!!

GPS FO101 COLLEGE DRIVE, hit the parking lot and follow signs signs for North Hall.

For a teaser, go to: thejourneyhome.video

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Many thanks to the Chester County Su***de Prevention Partnership and Hutchinson Memorial UAME Church for sponsoring and hosting Tuesday's screening of The Journey Home! Help us prevent military su***de! Go to: thejourneyhome.video to arrange a screening in your community!

TONIGHT, 6 PM...ALL ARE WELCOME!!!

Before he wrote songs that made people cry, Kris Kristofferson had already lived three lives.

At Pomona College, he was a football star, a Golden Gloves boxer, and a poet. One professor saw something special in him—told him to apply for the Rhodes Scholarship. He did. And he won.

At Oxford, Kris studied literature in stone halls and quiet libraries. Somewhere between Yeats and Dylan Thomas, he discovered that poems could live in music. Songs, he realized, were poetry that people carried with them, tucked into their hearts.

Back home, everyone saw a future professor—maybe even at West Point. He was offered that prestigious teaching job—the kind many would have given anything for. But Kris turned it down. He joined the Army instead, became a helicopter pilot, a captain, and then… walked away from it all.

He packed his duffle bag, moved to Nashville, and took a job sweeping floors at Columbia Recording Studios. The Rhodes Scholar became a janitor. Between shifts, he wrote songs—scribbling lines on napkins, notebooks, and in the margins of his dreams.

Years passed. Nothing happened. Then, one day, Johnny Cash heard “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down.”
And everything changed.

Janis Joplin sang “Me and Bobby McGee.”
Ray Price sang “For the Good Times.”
Sammi Smith sang “Help Me Make It Through the Night.”
Each song carried the same voice—tender, raw, and honest. A voice that knew the beauty in being broken.

Soon, the janitor was standing on stage, then on film sets, and eventually, in history.

But Kris Kristofferson’s greatest masterpiece wasn’t a song. It was the decision to walk away from everything that was expected of him—to choose meaning over safety, truth over titles, and art over approval.

He could have taught literature at West Point. Instead, he taught the world how to feel.

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