Dale Jackson is a die-hard Auburn fan. Fall Saturdays at Jordan-Hare weren't just entertainment—they were tradition. Identity. Joy.

Then life changed.

Dale and his wife welcomed a son with severe autism, and suddenly something as simple as attending a football game became overwhelming. Loud crowds. Long lines. Nowhere appropriate to care for a child with complex needs. For families like his, public events weren't fun—they were impossible.

So Dale did what builders do when the world doesn't fit: he redesigned it.

Out of that challenge came SNASY—a service created to help families with children and adults who need extra care experience events most of us take for granted. SNASY uses custom-designed shipping containers outfitted with adult changing tables and critical care features, turning chaos into access and stress into possibility.

Julian and Olivia Stephens immediately recognized the opportunity SNASY represented as soon as they saw it at an Auburn football game with their special needs son Preston. They wanted SNASY for Mardi Gras.

And now, SNASY is coming to Mobile.

For the first time, Mobile's Mardi Gras will include services designed specifically for families with disabilities—from premium accessible parking along parade routes to golf-cart transportation and on-site care facilities. Reservations are already open, and demand is real.

This is innovation with heart. A solution born from one father's refusal to accept "that's just how it is." And for many families, this may be the first parade they've ever been able to attend.

Mobile didn't hesitate. The city embraced it.

This is a story about access, dignity, and what happens when someone decides everyone deserves a place in the crowd.

If you're interested in SNASY's services or are interested in the business opportunity presented by SNASY, reach out to Dale at djackson@jacksonservicesco.com or (706) 594-2374.

Jo Bonner is president of the University of South Alabama and in that role is building the school in both students and infrastructure. A couple jobs before that he represented Alabama's Distict 1 in Washington, taking over from Sonny Callahan for whom he was chief of staff beginning in 1989. Joe spent a lot of time in Washignton and has insights on what has changed and what has driven the change in Washington. He, like so many of my recent interviews, is disturbed by what he sees. Joe and I discuss what's changed and what may it may take to return to country to decency to one another and loyalty to the constitution.

Christina Woerner McInnis is running for Alabama Agriculture Commissioner, and the job turns out to be far bigger — and far stranger — than most of us realize. Once she and I started talking, the scope unfurled like a county fair map: everything from how many gallons come through the gasoline pump to whether the grocery-store salad bar scale is honest, all the way to steering timber policy across the entire state.

Historically, candidates have fit a familiar mold: men in cowboy hats, thick accents, and a kind of mythic farm-boss swagger. Christina is a sharp break from that pattern. She's a woman who grew up on the office side of her family farm — the side where you learn not just how a farm works, but why it works. She'll tell you she can drive a tractor and pull a calf, and she can, but her real power is in understanding how all the pieces of a complex system knit together to create a viable, resilient operation.

That's the same lens she brings to the commissioner's office she's aiming for: a deep grasp of how Alabama's many agricultural worlds — fuel, food, timber, regulation, commerce — interlock. She wants to pull those pieces together with intention and clarity, not nostalgia, to strengthen the state's future.

Comments: Cam@CamMarston.com.