Culture
At 38, Calais Campbell is still wrecking games: ‘I might just do this until the wheels fall off’
MIAMI GARDENS, Fla. — During quiet moments on the sideline, Calais Campbell can still hear his father’s voice.
Truth is, it never left him. The words were stored away, hardened into his psyche. Charles Campbell saw his son’s path before his son ever could. Twenty years later, the lessons have lasted.
Like the time Calais — long, lean and consumed by football from the minute he first slipped on a helmet — bragged about two first-quarter sacks on the way home from a high school game. He felt on top of the world. Wait until his older brothers heard …
“What’d you do the rest of the game?” Charles asked, quieting the car. “You got satisfied.”
Or the time Calais climbed the steps of the high dive at the local pool, then froze once he got there, too terrified to jump. This ain’t gonna work, he told himself. He tried to beg his way back down, but dad wouldn’t hear it. “Once you start something,” Charles told his son, “then you finish it.” So Calais gritted his teeth and tiptoed toward the edge.
“Belly-flopped,” he says now, laughing. “Hurt so bad. But after that I jumped in 25 times.”
GO DEEPER
Dolphins, Bills sell stakes in team to private equity firms
Charles had been gone four years by the time his son entered the 2008 NFL Draft. Calais left the University of Miami a year early, showed up to the scouting combine out of shape and figured he’d coast on his God-given ability. He was wrong. He bombed.
Teams wrote him off.
So he sat there that afternoon and seethed, watching helplessly as he tumbled out of the first round. He knew what his father would tell him: “You let everybody pat you on the back, and you didn’t put in the work. It’s always about the work.”
Calais had to wait 50 picks to hear his name called. He’s never forgotten.
“You know how many defensive linemen went ahead of me?” he asks. “Ten.”
Most of them didn’t last five seasons. He’s in Year 17.
He’s been playing so long that he once shared a high school field with his head coach.
It was 2001. Mike McDaniel was a scrawny wide receiver at Smoky Hill High School, just outside of Denver, on his way to Yale. Campbell was the best player in the state of Colorado, a 6-foot-8 game-wrecker with offers from every top program in the country.
“I still have a ribcage, so he didn’t tackle me,” McDaniel joked last month. “I stayed away from him. I was trying to coach here 20 years later. I couldn’t do that if I was dead.”
A month ago, Campbell’s agent called. The trade deadline was nearing. Six teams had reached out to the Dolphins, wanting to deal for the veteran defensive tackle. Among them was Baltimore, where Campbell played from 2020-22. The offer was a fifth-round pick. Another team — Campbell won’t say who — offered a fourth as long as a late-rounder was going back to them.
“A fourth?” Campbell says, flattered. “I’m 38 years old!”
But the Ravens made the most sense. Campbell was going to get another shot at a ring — maybe his last shot. The trade was all but agreed to. Then his phone buzzed.
“I can’t do it,” McDaniel told him. “You’re too valuable to us.” The Dolphins coach had nixed the deal. Campbell would stay.
At that point, the season looked lost. Miami was 2-6, tied for the second-worst record in the league. A gilded career would sputter to a forgettable finish.
A few nights later, standing on the sideline before kickoff of a “Monday Night Football” game against the Rams, Campbell heard his father speak to him.
Once you start something …
“That’s when I decided I was gonna do everything in my power to get this thing going,” he says.
Miami is 4-1 since.
Campbell’s 109.5 career sacks place him third among active players, behind only Von Miller and Cam Jordan. (Ronald Martinez / Getty Images)
McDaniel refers to Campbell as “the Tom Brady of defensive linemen.” Dolphins tight end Jonnu Smith calls him “the LeBron James of the NFL” because of the respect he garners around the league.
“One of my favorite teammates I’ve had on any team on any level,” Smith says.
Defensive end Zach Sieler admits there’s a running joke inside the position room: with Campbell on the roster, the unit’s average age is 33; without him, it dips to 27. “I’m so grateful I get to come to work every day with that guy,” Sieler says. “I’m always asking him, ‘What’s the secret? How are you still doing this?’”
Campbell never wanted to do anything else. He’s bounced from Arizona to Jacksonville to Baltimore to Atlanta to Miami. He’s played every position along the defensive line. He’ll step in on special teams and block for field goal attempts.
“He’ll do anything,” says one of his former coaches, Bruce Arians. “He’s more than just a run-stopper. He’s so rushable. He’ll blow up plays in the backfield. And the best thing he does is use those long arms to bat balls down and tip passes. We got so many interceptions off that.”
Campbell’s missed fewer games (15) than seasons played (17). He’s one of four defensive linemen in league history to make 250 career starts. He’s two years older than every defensive player in the league. Heck, he’s two years older than his own position coach.
He’s wrestled with retirement each of the last few years, dreading the prospect of getting his body ready for another season. It’s the first two weeks he hates the most. “Do I really wanna go through that torture?” he’ll ask himself.
But he hasn’t been able to convince himself to walk away. Not yet.
“The man could be at home sipping his Piña Coladas with his gold jacket on. Instead he’s putting everything he’s got into this team,” Smith says, shaking his head. “And you know the crazy part? He’s still one of the best players in the league at his position.”
Smith’s right. Campbell’s 27 solo tackles are fifth-most in the league among defensive tackles. His five batted passes are second-most. He’s second on the Dolphins in both sacks and tackles for loss, trailing only Sieler.
Consider for a moment how long Campbell has been at this: He was a rookie on the Cardinals team that made it to Super Bowl XLIII in February 2009. Kurt Warner was Arizona’s quarterback. He’s been retired for 15 years.
Campbell can still remember Adrian Wilson pulling him aside before kickoff that night in Tampa, begging him to soak in the moment. “Don’t take this for granted,” the veteran safety told him. “Getting here is hard.”
Campbell’s never made it back. “My No. 1 motivation,” he calls it.
Each spring, while he weighs his future, friends and family throw out an obvious question: “Why don’t you just sign with the Chiefs?” Campbell bristles at the idea. To him, it feels like a shortcut. He doesn’t want a free ride to a championship. He wants to be a reason his team hoists the trophy.
That drive was first fueled by doubt, from a father who taught him to run from complacency and from a high school basketball coach who told him he was picking the wrong sport. “You’re too skinny!” Campbell remembers hearing. “You could make it to the NBA!”
And from Arians, his second coach in Arizona, who once said something in a news conference that Campbell never forgot. “For a guy as talented as he is,” Arians told reporters, “Calais disappears too much.”
The comment made its way back to him. Family members figured he’d fume. “Aren’t you pissed?” they kept asking. Campbell shook his head, then stored the words away.
“From that day on I decided I was gonna show up in every ball game. Every … single … one,” he says, pounding the table in front of him. “B.A. knew how to motivate. B.A. made me a better player.”
Campbell spent the first nine years of his career in Arizona, where he earned Pro Bowl and All-Pro honors from 2014-16. (Christian Petersen / Getty Images)
Arians’ words lit a fire, and as Campbell’s career took off, so did his ambitions. At one point he decided to Google “Hall of Fame defensive linemen.” He spent hours poring over their careers, watching highlights, studying stats. He pictured his own path to Canton. What would it take? How long would he have to play?
Between 13 and 17 seasons, he decided. Fifteen seemed like a good number. He wrote it down. “Then eight years in, I told myself no way,” he admits.
More research. More conversations. Campbell picked the brain of Dwight Freeney, who played until he was 37. Then James Harrison, who played until 39. Then Bruce Smith, who lasted until 40. He started seeing the chiropractor every week. He added acupuncture and massages to his routine. He spent nearly $30,000 on his own hyperbaric chamber.
He fought off Father Time.
He was 10 years into his career but started to feel like he was in his 20s again.
“I might just do this until the wheels fall off,” he told himself.
Campbell leans back in his chair, letting the silence linger for a few moments.
He’s a mountain of a man, with the voice of a preacher and a smile that warms the room. It’s late November. He’s sitting inside the Dolphins practice facility, weighing the most trying moments of his adolescence against the Hall of Fame-worthy career that followed.
Does one happen without the other?
He’s thinking.
He grew up one of eight, too busy trying to keep up with his older brothers to notice the hard times sneaking up on them. At one point, when Calais was in junior high, the family was forced to spend six months in a homeless shelter, crammed into a room with metal bunk beds pushed against the wall. The boys would take multiple city buses just to get to school each morning.
For years Campbell bottled up the experience, never mentioning it in interviews. He wanted to keep the pain private. But it was always there, same as the words his father left him.
Liver cancer stole Charles Campbell away at age 61, five months before Calais’ high school graduation. His father never saw him suit up at the U. Never saw him play a down in the NFL.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t think my career’s the same without everything I been though,” Campbell says. “We’re all a product of our environment, right? I know I am. I had an incredible father who saw something in me. He pushed me, he motivated me, and all those situations helped build up this callus, this toughness in me. He’s still pushing me.
“That’s such an important part of my story.”
The story since: 17 NFL seasons, six Pro Bowls, a spot on the 2010s All-Decades team and the 2019 Walter Payton Man of the Year award. The foundation Campbell was honored for, the one he started way back in 2013, is called CRC. It’s named after Charles Campbell, whose son is now one of the most revered players in the sport.
Campbell won the NFL’s Walter Payton Man of the Year award in 2020 for a mixture of on-field performance and community service. (Tom Pennington / Getty Images)
Even so, after he arrived in Miami, Dolphins coaches weren’t sure how much he had left. Campbell didn’t sign with the team until June. He wasn’t there for a single offseason workout.
Then, a week into training camp, they put the pads on, and No. 93 started blowing plays up.
Austin Clark, Miami’s defensive line coach, began to envision Campbell lining up next to Sieler, a 29-year-old coming off his first 10-sack season. “Oh man,” Clark told himself, “we got a shot here.”
Five weeks after his first practice Campbell was voted team captain. One snap into the season he had his first sack. In the months since he’s transformed the unit, the defense and the building. After workouts, he stays on the field and tutors the Dolphins’ young pass rushers. In film sessions, he points out their mental mistakes.
“You can’t go through the motions around him,” McDaniel says. “First of all, he’ll call you out. Second of all, you’ll feel too guilty.”
On Saturday nights, the coach asks Campbell to address the entire team. “When Calais speaks, it’s just different,” Smith says.
Arians says it started in Arizona. Younger players would gravitate toward Campbell. He’d mentor. He’d motivate. He’d counsel. “A special player and a special leader,” Arians says. “One of the most positive guys I’ve ever been around in all my years coaching.”
It carried over to Jacksonville, then Baltimore. In 2022, Ravens defensive tackle Nnamdi Madubuike was two years into his career and fed up: he had just three sacks in 25 games. He was frustrated and losing faith. “Come visit me in Arizona this spring,” Campbell told him. So Madubuike did.
“I believed in my heart that I could be a guy who could really be a problem in this league and Calais was giving me insight that, ‘You are,’” Madubuike says. “When we don’t get the results we want in any field, you can automatically get discouraged. He always told (me) just to stay up, just stay focused, stay working and eventually you’re going to break through.”
Madubuike had 18.5 sacks over the next two seasons, made his first Pro Bowl and signed a four-year, $98 million extension with the Ravens last spring.
“I’m telling you, wherever I’m coaching the rest of my career, (Campbell) is gonna be around,” Clark adds. “If he doesn’t wanna coach, then I’m begging him to come by the building at least once a week. He has that big of an influence on guys.”
Campbell’s approach then is his approach now: “No. 1, be authentic with everyone,” he says. “No. 2, be the best version of myself. No. 3, love on people.
“If I do all of that, we’re gonna be all right. I believe that.”
The Dolphins are two games back of the final AFC playoff spot with four to go. Campbell’s pep talk to himself before the Rams game sparked something — starting that night, Miami ripped off three straight wins. Then on Sunday, they rallied to beat the Jets in overtime. A season that looked lost in early November suddenly has new life.
“We need nine wins,” Campbell keeps telling himself. “We get to nine wins, we got a shot.”
In the back of his mind, he knows this might be his last stand, the final chapter of a career born of drive and draft-day disappointment. If it is, it’ll end the way it started, with his father’s words ringing in his ears.
Once you start something …
(Illustration: Demetrius Robinson / The Athletic; photos: Todd Rosenberg, Andy Lyons / Getty Images)
Culture
6 Poems You Should Know by Heart
Literature
‘Prayer’ (1985) by Galway Kinnell
Whatever happens. Whatever
what is is is what
I want. Only that. But that.
“I typically say Kinnell’s words at the start of my day, as I’m pedaling a traffic-laden path to my office,” says Major Jackson, 57, the author of six books of poetry, including “Razzle Dazzle” (2023). “The poem encourages a calm acceptance of the day’s events but also wants us to embrace the misapprehension and oblivion of life, to avoid probing too deeply for answers to inscrutable questions. I admire what Kinnell does with only 14 words; the repetition of ‘what,’ ‘that’ and ‘is’ would seem to limit the poem’s sentiment but, paradoxically, the poem opens widely to contain all manner of human experience. The three ‘is’es in the middle line give it a symmetry that makes its message feel part of a natural order, and even more convincing. Thanks to the skillful punctuation, pauses and staccato rhythm, a tonal quality of interior reflection emerges. Much like a haiku, it continues after its last words, lingering like the last note played on a piano that slowly fades.”
“Just as I was entering young adulthood, probably slow to claim romantic feelings, a girlfriend copied out a poem by Pablo Neruda and slipped it into an envelope with red lipstick kisses all over it. In turn, I recited this poem. It took me the remainder of that winter to memorize its lines,” says Jackson. “The poem captures the pitch of longing that defines love at its most intense. The speaker in Shakespeare’s most famous sonnet believes the poem creates the beloved, ‘So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, / So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.’ (Sonnet 18). In Rilke’s expressive declarations of yearning, the beloved remains elusive. Wherever the speaker looks or travels, she marks his world by her absence. I find this deeply moving.”
“Clifton faced many obstacles, including cancer, a kidney transplant and the loss of her husband and two of her children. Through it all, she crafted a long career as a pre-eminent American poet,” says Jackson. “Her poem ‘won’t you celebrate with me’ is a war cry, an invitation to share in her victories against life’s persistent challenges. The poem is meaningful to all who have had to stare down death in a hospital or had to bereave the passing of close relations. But, even for those who have yet to mourn life’s vicissitudes, the poem is instructive in cultivating resilience and a persevering attitude. I keep coming back to the image of the speaker’s hands and the spirit of steadying oneself in the face of unspeakable storms. She asks in a perfectly attuned gorgeously metrical line, ‘what did i see to be except myself?’”
‘Sonnet 94’ (1609) by William Shakespeare
They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmovèd, cold, and to temptation slow,
They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces
And husband nature’s riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.
The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself it only live and die;
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity.
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
“It’s one of the moments of Western consciousness,” says Frederick Seidel, 90, the author of more than a dozen collections of poetry, including “So What” (2024). “Shakespeare knows and says what he knows.”
“It trombones magnificent, unbearable sorrow,” says Seidel.
“It’s smartass and bitter and bright,” says Seidel.
These interviews have been edited and condensed.
More in Literature
See the rest of the issue
Culture
Classic and Contemporary Literature From France, Japan, India, the U.K. and Brazil
Literature
FRANCE
According to the writer Leïla Slimani, 44, the author of ‘The Country of Others’ (2020).
Classic
‘Essais de Montaigne’ (‘Essays of Montaigne,’ 1580)
“France is a country of nuance with a love of conversation and freedom and an aversion to fanaticism. It’s also a country built on reflexive subjectivity. Montaigne reveals all that, writing, ‘I am myself the matter of my book.’”
Contemporary
‘La Carte et le Territoire’ (‘The Map and the Territory,’ 2010) by Michel Houellebecq
“Houellebecq describes France as a museum, where landscape turns into décor and where rural areas are emptying out. He shows the gap between the Parisian elite and the rest of the population, which he paints as aging and disoriented by modernity. It’s a melancholic and yet ironic novel about a disenchanted nation.”
JAPAN
According to the writer Yoko Ogawa, 64, the author of ‘The Memory Police’ (1994).
Classic
‘Man’yoshu’ (late eighth century)
“‘Man’yoshu,’ the oldest extant collection of Japanese poetry, reflects a diversity of voices — from emperors to commoners. They bow their heads to the majesty of nature, weep at the loss of loved ones and find pathos in death. The pages pulse with the vitality of successive generations.”
Contemporary
‘Tenohira no Shosetsu’ (‘Palm-of-the-Hand Stories,’ 1923-72) by Yasunari Kawabata
“The essence of Japanese literature might lie in brevity: waka [a classical 31-syllable poetry form], haiku and short stories. There’s a tradition of cherishing words that seem to well up from the depths of the heart, imbued with warmth. Kawabata, too, exudes more charm in his short stories — especially these very short ‘palm-of-the-hand’ stories — than in his full-length novels. Good and evil, beauty and ugliness, love and hate — everything is contained in these modest worlds.”
INDIA
According to Aatish Taseer, 45, a T contributing writer and the author of ‘Stranger to History: A Son’s Journey Through Islamic Lands’ (2009).
Classic
‘The Kumarasambhava’ (‘The Birth of Kumara,’ circa fifth century) by Kalidasa
“This is an epic poem by the greatest of the classical Sanskrit poets and dramatists. The gods are in a pickle. They’re being tormented by a monster, but Shiva, their natural protector, is deep in meditation and cannot be disturbed. Kama, the god of love, armed with his flower bow, is sent down from the heavens to waken Shiva. Never a wise idea! The great god, in his fury, opens his third eye and incinerates Kama. But then, paradoxically, the death of the god of love engenders one of the greatest love stories ever told. In the final canto, Shiva and his wife, the goddess Parvati, have the most electrifying sex for days on end — and, 15 centuries on, in our now censorious time, it still leaves one agog at the sensual wonder that was India.”
Contemporary
‘The Complex’ (2026) by Karan Mahajan
“This state-of-the-nation novel, which was published just last month, captures the squalor and malice of Indian family life. Delhi is both my and Mahajan’s hometown and, in this sprawling homage to India’s capital, we see it on the eve of the economic liberalization of the 1990s, as the old socialist city gives way to a megalopolis of ambition, greed and political cynicism.”
THE UNITED KINGDOM
According to the writer Tessa Hadley, 70, the author of ‘The London Train’ (2011).
Classic
‘Jane Eyre’ (1847) by Charlotte Brontë
“Written almost 200 years ago, it remains an insight into our collective soul — or at least its female part. Somewhere at the heart of us there’s a small girl in a wintry room, curled up in the window seat with a book, watching the lashing rain on the window glass: ‘There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. …’ Jane’s solemnity, her outraged sense of justice, her trials to come, the wild weather outside, her longing for something better, for love in her future: All this speaks, perhaps problematically, to something buried in the foundations of our idea of ourselves.”
Contemporary
‘All That Man Is’ (2016) by David Szalay
“Though he isn’t quite completely British (he’s part Canadian, part Hungarian), Szalay is brilliant at catching certain aspects of British men — aspects that haven’t been written about for a while, now updated for a new era. Funny, exquisitely observed and terrifying, this novel reminds us, too, how absolutely our fate and our identity as a nation belong with the rest of Europe.”
BRAZIL
According to the writer and critic Noemi Jaffe, 64, the author of ‘What Are the Blind Men Dreaming?’ (2016).
Classic
‘Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas’ (‘The Posthumous Memoirs of Brás Cubas,’ 1881) by Machado de Assis
“Not only is it experimental in style — very short chapters mixed with long ones; different points of view; narrated by a corpse; metalinguistic — but it also introduces an extremely ironic view of the rising bourgeoisie in Rio de Janeiro at the time, revealing the hypocrisy of slave owners, the falsehood of love affairs and the only true reason for all social relationships: convenience and personal interest. After almost 150 years, it’s still modern, both formally and, unfortunately, also in content.”
Contemporary
‘Onde Pastam os Minotauros’ (‘Where Minotaurs Graze,’ 2023) by Joca Reiners Terron
“The two main characters — Cão and Crente — along with some of their colleagues, plan to escape and set fire to the slaughterhouse where they work under exploitative conditions. The men develop sympathy for the animals they kill, and one of them becomes a sort of philosopher, revealing the sheer nonsense of existence and the injustices of society in the deepest parts of Brazil.”
These interviews have been edited and condensed.
More in Literature
See the rest of the issue
Culture
6 Myths That Endure
Literature
The Myth of Meeting Oneself
“This is evident in Virgil’s ‘Aeneid’ (circa 30-19 B.C.) when Aeneas witnesses his own heroic actions depicted in murals of the Trojan War in Juno’s temple, and again in Miguel de Cervantes’s ‘Don Quixote’ (1605-15) when Quixote enters a printer’s shop and finds a book that has been published with fake details about his quest even as he’s living it,” says Ben Okri, 67, the author of “The Famished Road” (1991) and “Madame Sosostris and the Festival for the Brokenhearted” (2025). “In both stories, individuals throw themselves into the world and think they encounter objects, personae, obstacles and antagonists, but what they actually encounter is themselves. In our time, where our actions meet us in the echo chamber of social media, the process is magnified and swifter. Now a deed doesn’t even have to take place for it to enter the realm of reality.”
The Myth of Utopia
“I’ve always had trouble with the idea of utopia, feeling it derives its energy more from what it wishes to dismantle than what it wishes to enact,” says the T writer at large Aatish Taseer, 45, the author of “Stranger to History: A Son’s Journey Through Islamic Lands” (2009). “Ram Rajya, or the mythical rule of the hero Ram in the Hindu epic ‘Ramayana’ (seventh century B.C.-third century A.D.), like all visions of perfection, contains a built-in violence.”
The Myth of Invisibility
“Invisibility bears power and powerlessness at the same time,” says Okri. “In ancient cultures, it was a gift of the gods. Jesus, for example, walks unrecognized among his disciples, and in Greek myths, Scandinavian legends and ancient African tales, heroes are gifted invisibility in the form of cloaks, sandals or spells. Modern works like the two ‘Invisible Man’ novels, by H.G. Wells (1897) and Ralph Ellison (1952), and the ‘Harry Potter’ novels (1997-2007) by J.K. Rowling reach back to those ideas. But today, people talk about visibility as the highest form of social agency, while invisibility can render a whole class, race, caste or gender unseen.”
The Myth of Steadiness vs. Speed
“‘The Tortoise and the Hare,’ one of Aesop’s fables (sixth century B.C.), doesn’t necessarily strike a younger person as promising — possibly it has a whiff of morality in it,” says Yiyun Li, 53, the author of “A Thousand Years of Good Prayers” (2005) and “Dear Friend, From My Life I Write to You in Your Life” (2017). “But the longer I live and work, the more I understand that it’s the tortoiseness in a person that carries one along, not the swiftness of the mind and body of the hare.”
The Myth of Magic
“Ancient magical tales like Homer’s ‘Odyssey’ (late eighth to early seventh century B.C.) were allegories of transformation, of secret teachings,” says Okri, “whereas modern forms of magic are narrative devices and tropes of storytelling that continue the child’s wonder of life. I think of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s ‘The Great Gatsby’ (1925), Gabriel García Márquez’s ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ (1967) and, again, the ‘Harry Potter’ books. The intuition of magic persists even in these atheistic and science-infested times, where nothing is to be believed if it can’t be subjected to analysis. This is perhaps because the ultimate magic confronts us every day in the mystery of consciousness. That we can see anything is magical; that we experience love is magical; and perhaps the most magical thing of all is the imagination’s unending power to alter the contents and coordinates of reality. It hides tenaciously in the act of reading, which is the most generative act of magic.”
The Myth of the Immortal Soul
“ ‘The soul is birthless and eternal, imperishable and timeless and is not destroyed when the body is destroyed,’ says Krishna in the ‘Bhagavad Gita’ (second century-first century B.C.). This belief in the immortality of the soul — what used to be called Pythagoreanism in ancient Greece — is still the most pervasive myth in India,” says Taseer, “and has more influence over behavior and how one lives one’s life than any other.”
These interviews have been edited and condensed.
More in Literature
See the rest of the issue
-
Mississippi6 seconds agoGeorge County High School senior killed in Highway 26 crash, MHP says
-
Missouri6 minutes ago
Missouri Lottery Powerball, Pick 3 winning numbers for April 18, 2026
-
Montana12 minutes ago
Montana Lottery Powerball, Lotto America results for April 18, 2026
-
Nebraska18 minutes agoGallery: Huskers Run-Rule No. 12 USC to Take Series
-
Nevada24 minutes agoIN RESPONSE: Cortez Masto lands bill would keep the proceeds in Nevada
-
New Hampshire30 minutes agoNew Hampshire grapples with nuclear waste storage – Valley News
-
New Jersey36 minutes agoNearby shooting interrupts 13-year-old’s birthday party in Paterson; 1 killed, 3 injured
-
New Mexico42 minutes agoCalm and warmer conditions move into New Mexico