December 2016, Scott Swift sat in his Nashville office scrolling through his phone. [music] A news segment caught his attention. KFS12 had interviewed a 96-year-old man from Missouri. A World War II veteran, a Taylor Swift superfan. Scott leaned forward. The man’s name was Cyrus Porter.

 Then Cyrus said something that stopped Scott cold. I’ve been to two concerts, Memphis and St. Louis. Look what she does. She puts on a show no one else puts on. A 96-year-old veteran traveling hours across state lines just to see his daughter perform. Scott’s chest tightened. [music] His own father, Archie Dean Swift Jr. had been a Marine.

Guadal Canal and Okinawa. The kind of hell you don’t speak about. Archie never talked about the war except once. Someone asked him why he stayed so positive after everything he’d seen. His answer, “Well, [music] I’m not supposed to be here.” Archie died before Taylor turned nine. She never really got to know him.

But this man, Cyrus Porter, he was still here, still fighting, still loving life, still wanting one more concert. Scott called Taylor. I need to show you something. Cyrus didn’t know any of this was happening. December 26th, the day after Christmas, his house was still buzzing with family. 72 people had gathered the day before.

Children, grandchildren, great grandchildren. 49 stockings still hung on the wall, one for each of them. His daughter Carolyn [music] seemed nervous. She kept checking her watch. She told everyone to come back at 1:00 p.m. Something about a special package. The family waited on the back porch, [music] singing, laughing, trying to distract themselves from whatever was coming.

[music] Taylor hung up the phone with her dad. She sat in silence for a long moment. Thinking about the grandfather she barely knew the marine who survived hell and never spoke of it. Who died when she was too young to ask him about Guadal Canal, about what he saw, about how he kept going.

And now there was Cyrus still here, still fighting, still wanting one more concert. She looked at her tour schedule. Nothing planned. No concerts coming, but maybe she didn’t need a stage. She called her parents. Can you drive me to Missouri tomorrow? December 26th, early morning. Taylor, Scott, and Andrea loaded into a van.

A guitar in the back seat. 3 hours later, they pulled onto a quiet street in New Madrid. Scott drove slowly past the small house. Taylor sat quietly, staring at the house, nervous. She’d surprised fans before at weddings, hospitals, homes. But this felt different. This wasn’t just a fan. This was a warrior. Her grandfather would have saluted.

She grabbed her guitar. Scott squeezed her hand. Dad would have loved this. She walked to the door. Carolyn opened it. Her scream shattered the silence. It’s Taylor Swift. The house erupted. 60 people crying, shouting, [music] grabbing each other, phones out. Chaos. Pure, beautiful chaos. Cyrus stood frozen in the living room, his mouth [music] open, his eyes locked on her.

Taylor walked straight through the crowd, straight to him. She didn’t say anything at first. She just hugged him. Cyrus’s arms wrapped around her slowly, shaking, his face [music] buried in her shoulder. How? How did you get here? He whispered. Taylor pulled back, tears already streaming down her face. She looked into his eyes.

This man who’ survived a war, who’d built a family, who had fought cancer, who’ traveled hours just to watch her sing. And she saw her grandfather. [music] Cyrus broke. Tears poured down his weathered face. His wife grabbed his [music] hand. The room went silent. 60 people watching, crying. Taylor picked up her guitar right [music] there in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his bronze star, his war photos, his 49 [music] stockings, his entire legacy.

She started playing shake it off. And Cyrus Porter, 96 years old, cancer [music] in his body, two world wars in his memory, stood up and danced. His whole family sang, sobbed, held each other. When the song ended, Cyrus touched his cheek, laughing through tears. I got lipstick on my face.

His granddaughter Caroline [music] couldn’t breathe. My popo. He was grinning from ear to ear with tears in his eyes. I’ve never seen him so happy. Cyrus looked at Taylor. Really? Looked at her. It’s not a miracle, he whispered. But I’d say it’s pretty close. Taylor hugged him again longer this time. Scott stood in the doorway watching, thinking about his own father, the Marine who never made it to 96, who never got to dance in his living room, who never got to meet the granddaughter who became a superstar.

[music] But in that moment, Taylor gave Cyrus something. She never got to give her own grandfather. One more song, one more memory, one more reason to keep fighting. [music] And for both of them, it was everything. If Cyrus Porter’s story moved you, don’t forget to subscribe for more heartwarming stories like this.