The Elements of Life Foundation, Inc.
Founder, C.E.O., and Sole Survivor 
John-Trinity Range

We all know about the 4 elements of life... fire, water, earth, and wind.  These elements are just as powerful as they are inexplicable, if not entirely impossible to explain it's nature, origin, or full potential of their seemingly limitless powers.  But there is ONE element that we rarely discuss, research, or show hope for discovering its true and unlimited powers.  That mysterious element is "THE SPIRIT OF MAN".   You have no idea just how STRONG your spiritual nature is... until you have no other choice, but to puch yourself to the limits in order to survive, thrive, and overcome every adversity that seeks to destroy you.

I am JOHN-TRINITY RANGE... and I am a survivor of Sickle Cell - Thalassemia Level 4, a motivational speaker, and philanthropist.  I have dedicated the last 8 years of my life to the cause of helping people who suffer from the pain and affliction derived from Sickle Cell Anemia.  I created The Elements of Life Foundation to be a support group, an advocacy program for the youth, an educational resource for the public, and last but not least a financial pool to support medical research and the discovery of a cure.

The pure, powerful, and precious SPIRIT of a man.

About John-Trinity Range

Every great story has its point of origin.   We are simply the sum total of every experience that created our lives; all of our ups & downs, good & bad, our successes and more importantly our failures.  All of these entities in combination ultimately reveals who we are as individuals.  "Know thy self", is a famous quote and Ancient Greek alphorism, which simply means "self-discovery". The first step in this investigation should always start with your environment.  We are all products of our environment.  And for me, that environment happen to be the bright & beautiful, cold & cruel, deceptively alluring streets of East Point, Atlanta.  Atlanta, Georgia was entering into an age of explosive growth in the industrial, corporate, and political establishment.  In recent years, the city has also bogarded its way to the forefront of the entertainment world.  The "Hollywood of the South" still has its challenges.  The repulsive stinch of the 60's still lingers, but is swiftly losing its grip.  The Jim Crow Laws and the plague of segregation, along with the scars and wounds of injustice were slowly fading away under the stampeding marches of the Civil Rights Movement.  Nevertheless, time waits for no man... and the times were screaming for a change.  From the northern hills of Apple Mountain all the way down through Jonesboro and Union City, more & more opportunities were on the rise for African-Americans.  Evolving with the currents of urban progression, fueled by the clash of Southern Tradition vs. Black Pride, more and more affluent African-American suburbs were springing up every where. 


How Sweet It Is to be LOVED! by Slidely Slideshow


My mother and father moved to Atlanta in the early 70's to attend two of the most highly regarded HBCU's in the AU Center.  My father is a Morehouse graduate and my mother is a Morris Brown graduate.  After 4 years of dating, they married and set out on a mission to take the world of Corporate America by storm.  After establishing lucrative careers in their respected fields, bonding with some special friends, and settling into this new life in pursuit of a promising future. The world was a blank canvas and with every steady stroke they began creating their masterpiece... eventually, they even started a business of their own. They purchased their first home by age 25.  With every dream coming true and every seedling of their imagination coming into fruition.  The two began making plans to raise a family.  Well established in their careers, they would often travel to exotic places, enjoying the fruits of their labor and making a "home" of the growing metropolis. Often lending a helping hand to friends in need and often opening their home to family members, like my cool Uncle Bill, a decorated Marine returning from overseas.  He lived with my parents for 1 year after his return to the states.  Life & love flourished between my parents; They were good!  And then "good" got even better.  On a cool winter morning on December 8th... a beautiful Black boy was born into privilege.  I, John-Trinity Range, came into this world and my mother called me her "Long Awaited Blessing".  The year was 1976.  In the mid-70's, many doctors knew very little about the critical probabilities of Sickle Cell; therefore, they never suggested any genetic testing for African-American families who were planning to have children.  Minor complications called for my mother and I to be admitted into the hospital for 3 days, for extensive testing and routine observation. Though I appeared healthy, weighing in at 8 lbs and displayed positive signs of a healthy, happy, and hungry baby.  They found some irregularities with my circulatory system, but was unfamiliar with this condition, and advised us to carry on with caution.  With monitoring and updates, the doctors assured my parents that I would be fine.  With my first 3 days in the hospital with my mother coming to a close, we were discharged and free to go home.  My father and uncle, anxiously awaiting our arrival home, took the time and opportunity to do some remodeling. My own baby-room / nursery... and something else... something BIG, extravagant and totally unexpected by my mother.  I still remember it so vividly, because this surprise still stands in my mother's home to this very day.  My father and uncle, both skilled carpenters, redecorated an entire wall in our family room.  It was adorned with authentic African art, artifacts, masks, shields, spears... REAL AFRICAN SPEARS, and plaques illustrating the images, historical documents, and paintings of several African Kings and Queens from various regions of Central, Eastern, and Northern Africa.  My favorites were the ones from Egypt. My father made a full wall-sized mural for me; my very first lesson about our African heritage when I grew older.  When we were discharged from the hospital, of course family member from far & near came o see me. The firstborn prince was finally home.  And all was well.  My mental and physical development surpassed the norm.  My family often shared stories about their active & happy, bouncing baby boy that learned to walk and explore the house at only 10 months old.  Until one day it all suddenly stopped.  No longer the jovial infant, I became inactive, lethargic and moody.  I stopped walking and went back to crawling.  My hands and feet would often swell up like little balloons and I would cry for hours... sometimes days at a time.  The volatile atmosphere of a constantly crying and sickly baby had proven to be too difficult for my parents.  Long hospitalizations, painful testing, and monstrous medical bills was a recipe for emotional and financial disaster.  After 2 months of torturous pricking and prodding, the doctors discovered that I had a rare blood disorder.  The diagnosis was not just Sickle Cell, but Sickle Cell Thalassemia - Level 4.  This would become known as the most aggressive and painful form of Sickle Cell that carried additional characteristics that were similar to Leukemia. SCA Thalassemia - Level 4 causes major blood clots that destroy bone and organ tissue; mainly liver, spleen, kidney and heart failure.  The progression of the disease would clot major arteries, blocking blood circulation, that eventually leads to the deterioration of organs and even bone in some cases.  The average life span of an infant diagnosed with SCA Thalassemia is typically around 3 years of age.  Obviously, I was not the typical child.  Shortly after my first birthday, we were shaken to the core... confronted by a monstrous challenge that no one would anticipate.  The mounting pressure of financial distress, emotional turmoil, and the prospect of their firstborn prince suffering a horrific, painful and slow death had ushered in a horrific spirit of division that would devastate my family.   My father had abandoned the household, my mother suffered from severe depression, and I would find myself fighting for my life for the first 5 years of my existence on this Earth.  Previously, I mentioned that every great story hofas its origin.  This is how my life began.  My mother and I would struggle for many years, fighting tooth and nail, fist and bone against the elusive and ferocious demon spirit of infirmity.  We were NOT born-again Christians, we knew nothing about spiritual warfare and demonic attacks.  We were ignorant and totally in the dark concerning the OMNIPOTENT power contained within the "words of faith" given in scripture.  To this day... this very day... I am convinced that the mercy and pure goodness of God's love kept us alive and pressing forward.  As if God knew that one day, we would enter His glorious fold; where He would then reveal to us... "You were never alone... the single set of footprint in the sand represent the many, many miles that I carried you in my arms."  The pain I endured bred hate and contempt in my heart... but He saw my future.  He knew that I would one day, trade that hate for ever-lasting love... He knew I would one day release my contempt for life and grab hold of a selfless lifestyle of generosity... freely He gave me so much... so now freely, I give it to all in need.  I give you the truth, the incorruptible word.  I give you the good news of salvation through Christ... and way out of the miry, muck of misery.  Be free.  Just as I am now free.  All through the simple formula that was wispered in my ear on that special day... January 5th, 2007.  God said to me... "Give Big.  Love Hard.  Live Righteously."