Why Does Jack's Have a Brand New Look

Wait, what?!  Jack is an eagle now?!

Don't be silly, Jack isn't an eagle.  But our our new logo is!  And like everything else we do, we've poured our hearts into it.

We hope you agree that our new logo better symbolizes the heroic power and moxie that lies within every cancer caregiver.

Cancer caregivers, like eagles, make incredible feats look easy.  They soar high and mighty and they don't give a damn how awesome they are.

But we give a damn.  The survivors they care for give a damn.  The community we're building for them gives a damn too.

Here's the deal, we aren't the hero of their stories, they are.

Like all great stories in award-winning films every cancer caregiver has a Hollywood worthy story that plays out something like this;

1. A hero exists in a current state. Every real man pursues excellence in every role that he plays in life.  Whether he's being a father, an employee, a husband, a grandson, an uncle, a coach, a son, a brother, or an actual boss - he never stops trying to do it all like a boss.  The only real joy he ever feels comes from striving for all of his potential.
   
   
2. A challenge occurs/status quo upheaval. Cancer strikes someone in his family.  His apple cart is turned over, he's forced to assumes additional roles he's had no experience with.  People ask him all day long how his survivor is doing, no one ever asks him how's he's doing.  And if they did he wouldn't know what to say.
   
   
3. Hero resists change/struggles. He's been taught to "just suck it up" and so he does.  Instead of being a few things to a few people suddenly he tries to be everything to everyone.  Things are coming at him so fast he never even notices he's started to fumble more often.  He just picks up the ball and keeps running with the same intensity and drive that he always has.  He's always been able to fix things, he's determined that he'll fix this too.
   
   
4. Mentor appears. This is where Jack's comes in.  But unlike everywhere he's turned we aren't counselors or therapist, we're just regular salt of the earth guys who've been there before him.  He joins our community for some fishing, dining, golfing, hunting, or just to shoot the shit for a while.  Sometimes he doesn't even talk about cancer when he's hanging out with us, heck sometimes nobody does because we all get it and it's awesome to talk about something else for once!  Sometimes he does talk about cancer and he learns from those that have gone before him.  He shares what has gotten him where he is.  He learns the power of a respectful no, to engage the right people for help with the right things, to take time for him again, to appreciate how difficult watching someone suffer everyday really is.  He learns that cancer caregiving is a team sport.  That while he may be the quarterback, he can't play all the positions.  He realizes he shouldn't feel guilty for resting while the defense takes the field.
   
   
5. Hero accepts new path/saves the day. He can see his blind spots now. He stops trying to do it all.  He builds a team and leads it.  He starts seeing the entire field more clearly, throws hard with accuracy, thinks better, runs faster, and fumbles less.  That feeling of excellence he used to know so well has returned.  Sometimes his teams beats cancer and sometimes it doesn't.  With a stage 4 diagnosis the goal might be just to make the game last as long as long as it can and have fun playing it.  He gets to decide what the goals are for his team.
   
   ​But our goal for him is always the same.  That he realizes he already is the most valuable player on his caregiving team.  That he experiences playing the caregiving game at the highest level.  That he ultimately experiences the joy of striving for all of his potential as a man.