Top-prize Take 5 ticket worth over $17K sold in Cheektowaga
The winning ticket for Friday evening's drawing is worth $17,380.50 and was sold at the J&M Convenient Food Shop at 2365 Williams St.
Take 5 drawings are televised twice daily at 2:30 p.m. and 10:30 p.m. To see the winning numbers, click here.
Latest Local News
Along 4 The Hike: Eighteen Mile Creek
Top-prize Take 5 ticket worth over $17K sold in Cheektowaga
'He did not deserve this': Family of Rochester missing man killed, found in Cattaraugus Co. fights fort justice
Community works together to reopen East Side staple from 1949
Chief of Narcotics admits to reckless driving after multiple crashes last April
Katie Skoog joined the News 4 team in April 2024. She is a graduate from the University at Buffalo. You can view more of her work here.
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Solve the daily Crossword
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Associated Press
36 minutes ago
- Associated Press
SealingTech Launches First-Ever AI Hunt Kit Assistant Optimized for Defensive Cyber
The Associated Press is an independent global news organization dedicated to factual reporting. Founded in 1846, AP today remains the most trusted source of fast, accurate, unbiased news in all formats and the essential provider of the technology and services vital to the news business. More than half the world's population sees AP journalism every day.
WIRED
39 minutes ago
- WIRED
WIRED Takes You Back to School
Aug 18, 2025 6:00 AM Young people entering classrooms this fall need a totally different tool set than the generations before them.
Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
My youngest is off to college, but I reject the term 'empty nester'
My wife and I will soon be, in the parlance of parenting, empty nesters. It's a term I've decided to reject. I've been rejecting a lot of things lately, if I'm being honest. Things like the fact that my youngest son – who approximately 15 minutes ago was a warm, burping bean slung tenderly over my shoulder – is now an adult human, both prepared for and (rudely) excited to head to college. And the simple fact that I played a small part in raising two remarkable additions to humanity, and the 'they live among us' portion of that job is done. How is that possible? It was a blink. It was a marathon that unfolded like a sprint. Taking my youngest child to college is a chapter's end I want to reject the reality of the moment – a moment I share with all parents preparing to send their last offspring out into the world – but it's a fool's errand. Opinion: On a college visit with my son it hit me. He's leaving. He's ready. And I'm not. This is a moment that should come. That must come. Our kids enter our lives, fabulously and chaotically. They give us more than we could ever imagine while wearing us down to shadows of our former selves. We live for them and through them and around them, all to prepare them to split, to go out and do their own things and live their lives and hopefully – hopefully – find we gave them the tools to live well. So I can't reject the fact that he's grown. He's taller than me, stronger than me. It's all very obnoxious, frankly. And I can't reject the fact that he's leaving. He's ready. I may or may not be, but it's happening. And I'm happy – thrilled, really – for him. Go get 'em, kiddo. I'm so proud of you, it hurts. The term 'empty nest' doesn't reflect the reality of a happy home But I can and will reject the oft-used term 'empty nest.' I'm writing this from a chair in our living room, and while no one else is home save the dog, I don't see emptiness. I see, vividly, as if he were there, my youngest's now-long legs dangling off the arm of the couch while he tells me about his day. I see him years ago, on the sidewalk outside, walking to the bus for the first day of middle school. I see him and my wife and his older brother at Christmas, collapsing in laughter. I look into the dining room and can hear the whirr of drones he'd fly around the house, the shouts of 'BOOM!' around the old wood table where we played countless games of UNO and Yahtzee. I see, clear as if they were there, LEGOs strewn about the floor and Hot Wheels tracks twisting and turning up and over furniture from one end of the house to the other. To new and struggling teachers: Don't give up. America's kids need you. | Opinion You fit a lifetime into raising a kid for 18 years This nest isn't empty. Not even close. In his 18 years, we've stuffed this house so full of memories it's a wonder the drywall doesn't crack from the pressure. Smiles and tears and skinned knees and arguments and lectures and hours of football and snacks and movies and long tales and 'Be safe!' exhortations as he had one foot out the door. This nest isn't empty. He will leave, as his brother did, and my wife and I will remain in a nest that, granted, will have more space and be a bit quieter. But those who say 'empty nest' suggest something is missing. They suggest emptiness with a note of negativity. As if the home where we raised our children will somehow become vacant. That I reject. I'll miss my son terribly, but I won't return home to emptiness I will miss my youngest as I've missed his brother. It will hurt like hell at first, I know. Not hearing him rattle around upstairs. Not seeing him surreptitiously toss bits of whatever he's eating to the dog. Not seeing him wave with a goofy grin as he parades through the living room with a pack of cackling friends. Locking up the house at night and knowing he's somewhere else. Opinion alerts: Get columns from your favorite columnists + expert analysis on top issues, delivered straight to your device through the USA TODAY app. Don't have the app? Download it for free from your app store. I'll miss him, but whatever room or hallway I pass through in this house will never be empty. This nest, blessedly, will forever be full, brimming with moments and movement and the echoes of our boys, scenes from a monumental chapter of our lives and theirs, with many chapters to follow and more moments and echoes to add. I won't call myself an empty nester. Nope. I reject that. But as I hug my boy and drive back to the home he helped fill with boundless joy, I'll gladly call myself the luckiest man alive. Follow USA TODAY columnist Rex Huppke on Bluesky at @ and on Facebook at You can read diverse opinions from our USA TODAY columnists and other writers on the Opinion front page, on X, formerly Twitter, @usatodayopinion and in our Opinion newsletter. This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Me, an empty nester? No way. I reject the implication | Opinion Solve the daily Crossword
