Forwarded from North Florida Active Club
📍Jacksonville, FL
North FL AC wishes you a Merry Christmas! 🎄
Members met in Jacksonville, FL this past weekend for a hike, grappling training, and boxing training, wrapping up an exceptional year of getting active. Make it your New Year’s resolution to join us for training in 2026. 🥋🥊
Get vetted: @floridian1776
North FL AC wishes you a Merry Christmas! 🎄
Members met in Jacksonville, FL this past weekend for a hike, grappling training, and boxing training, wrapping up an exceptional year of getting active. Make it your New Year’s resolution to join us for training in 2026. 🥋🥊
Get vetted: @floridian1776
⚡10🎄5❤1
Forwarded from North Florida Active Club
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Hiking, grappling, boxing, brotherhood and more.
Help us build a community where our people can thrive.
Get vetted: @floridian1776
Help us build a community where our people can thrive.
Get vetted: @floridian1776
❤10
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Find Your Tribe.
North: t.me/NorthFloridaAC
Central: t.me/CentralFloridaActiveClub
South: t.me/SWFLAC
Panhandle: t.me/FloridaPanHandleAC
North: t.me/NorthFloridaAC
Central: t.me/CentralFloridaActiveClub
South: t.me/SWFLAC
Panhandle: t.me/FloridaPanHandleAC
❤11🔥4
Forwarded from White Lads Aesthetics
Denis WhiteRex was more than just a figure in our movement to me. He was a mentor. An older brother.
When I was still fresh in the scene, it was Denis who after meeting me for the first time asked to be my corner man. He guided me through my first match in Europe. From that moment on, we clicked. We became close fast. He grew up on the streets of Moscow; I grew up on the streets of Queens. Different cities, same instincts, same vision for what the nationalist scene could and should be.
When my house was raided, Denis was the first one to pick up the phone. No hesitation. He offered me his apartment, a place to lay low, and whatever help he could give. When the war started, I offered to return the favor told him if he or his family ever needed a place, they had one with me. Denis chose to stay. He chose to fight.
We spoke often about the future about after.
After the war.
We talked about building gyms in Kyiv. Putting on events,
About opening bars being surrounded by beautiful women,
Those conversations kept me sane In prison.
I always thought one day we would meet again, not as fugitives or fighters, but as men finally allowed to breathe. That we’d pick up where we left off, just older with a few more stories to tell.
But men like Denis were never meant for quiet endings.
They don’t drift away in warm rooms or fade gently with time. Denis died in battle with a rifle in his hands and a smile on his face. I will mourn his loss, but I will stay inspired by his sacrifice.
Rest easy, brother. You didn’t just fight, you lived with purpose. And you’re not forgotten.
When I was still fresh in the scene, it was Denis who after meeting me for the first time asked to be my corner man. He guided me through my first match in Europe. From that moment on, we clicked. We became close fast. He grew up on the streets of Moscow; I grew up on the streets of Queens. Different cities, same instincts, same vision for what the nationalist scene could and should be.
When my house was raided, Denis was the first one to pick up the phone. No hesitation. He offered me his apartment, a place to lay low, and whatever help he could give. When the war started, I offered to return the favor told him if he or his family ever needed a place, they had one with me. Denis chose to stay. He chose to fight.
We spoke often about the future about after.
After the war.
We talked about building gyms in Kyiv. Putting on events,
About opening bars being surrounded by beautiful women,
Those conversations kept me sane In prison.
I always thought one day we would meet again, not as fugitives or fighters, but as men finally allowed to breathe. That we’d pick up where we left off, just older with a few more stories to tell.
But men like Denis were never meant for quiet endings.
They don’t drift away in warm rooms or fade gently with time. Denis died in battle with a rifle in his hands and a smile on his face. I will mourn his loss, but I will stay inspired by his sacrifice.
Rest easy, brother. You didn’t just fight, you lived with purpose. And you’re not forgotten.
❤11