Pupz Heaven

Paws, Play, and Heartwarming Tales

    • Interesting Showbiz Tales

    Iran blocks ships in the Strait of Hormuz with Lebanon cease-fire demand and $2M toll

    admin Posted on

    Iran blocks ships in the Strait of Hormuz with Lebanon cease-fire demand and $2M toll

    Iran is again blocking ships from passing through the Strait of Hormuz just hours after agreeing to reopen the waterway, blaming the reversal on Israel striking Lebanon — despite President Trump making clear Beirut was never part of the cease-fire agreement.

    “Due to Israeli strikes in #Lebanon, oil tankers will not be permitted to pass through the Strait of #Hormuz,” the Iranian embassy in Mumbai posted to X on Wednesday, citing Iran’s Fars News Agency.

    But Trump on Wednesday told PBS News Hour that “everyone knows” Israel’s fight with Hezbollah in Lebanon is a “separate skirmish” not included in the cease-fire deal with Iran.

    A large LNG carrier with a red hull and five spherical tanks on deck sails through the Strait of Hormuz.
    A tanker passing through the Strait of Hormuz near Oman on April 8, 2026. Anadolu via Getty Images

    “They were not included in the deal,” the president said. That’ll get taken care of too. It’s all right.”

    Hezbollah is an Iranian proxy group — one of several the US is demanding that Iran stop offering support.

    Iran’s finger-pointing came as Tehran attempts to extract payment from ships that want to pass through the strait without coming under Iranian attack, despite promising to reopen the strait for two weeks. Tolls were reportedly as high as $2 million per ship.

    Iran’s claims that it has closed the Strait of Hormuz in response to Israel’s bombing of Lebanon is “completely unacceptable,” White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt told reporters Wednesday.

    “Again, this is a case of what they’re saying publicly is different privately,” she said. “We have seen an uptick of traffic in the Strait today, and I will reiterate the president’s expectation and demand that the Strait is reopened immediately, quickly and safely.”

    Earlier on Wednesday, Iran threatened to “destroy” any ships that attempt to cross the strait without Tehran’s go-ahead as it attempts to set up a toll system to charge vessels to safely sail through the strait.

    Smoke rises from an Israeli airstrike in Nabatieh, Lebanon.
    Smoke rising from an Israeli airstrike Nabatieh, Lebanon on April 8, 2026. Getty Images

    “You must receive permission from Iranian Sepah navy for passing through the strait. If any vessel tries to transit without permission, will be destroyed,” an Iranian official was heard saying in audio shared with the Wall Street Journal by a crew member.

    Israel hit several densely populated commercial and residential areas in central Beirut on Wednesday — hours after Trump announced a cease-fire with Iran that would reopen the strait. At least 89 people were killed and 700 were wounded, according to Lebanon’s health ministry.

    Israel insisted Wednesday the US-Iran cease-fire doesn’t apply to Lebanon — as the Israeli military vowed to continue its “targeted ground operations” against Hezbollah.

    LEAVE A RESPONSE

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

    admin
    View all posts

    You Might Also Like

    Interesting

    The Last Request: What Happened When a Woman Asked to See the Virgin Mary Before Her Sentence by Admin · December 4, 2025 This is a story that challenges everything you believe about justice, faith, and second chances. Jennifer Walsh spent six years living a nightmare, and when only a few hours remained before the end, she made a request no one could have imagined. Prepare yourself to hear one of the most astonishing miracles of the Virgin Mary ever recorded inside a prison—a story that changed not only the life of a condemned woman but forever transformed everyone who witnessed the impossible. But before we continue, leave a comment telling me where you’re watching from and what time it is there right now. I would love to see how far the miracles of the Virgin Mary are reaching. Do you know that constant noise that never stops? Metal doors slamming, voices echoing through the hallways, the heavy footsteps of guards making their rounds, occasional screams, suppressed cries, and the irritating hum of fluorescent lights that never fully turn off. Jennifer Walsh knew these sounds very well. Six years hearing them; six years in which every day was exactly the same as the one before, except for one thing: the countdown that grew smaller inside her mind. Thirty-eight years old, a former nurse, imprisoned since March of 2018. You know that kind of person you would never imagine ending up in a prison? The kind who had a normal life, a respectable job, a daughter in school? Jennifer was that person until everything collapsed in a single night. The story began in a hospital in Chicago. Night shift on March 15, 2018. Jennifer had been working there for almost ten years. She knew every hallway, every protocol, every procedure by heart. That night, a patient was under her care: Robert, 73 years old, from a wealthy, very influential family. Robert lost his life during Jennifer’s shift. The medication was wrong. The records showed that Jennifer had been the last person to administer the drug. The hospital cameras had glitches exactly at that time—a coincidence the jury did not believe was a coincidence. “I didn’t do this,” Jennifer repeated hundreds of times during the trial—to her lawyer, to her sister, to her 12-year-old daughter, who cried, unable to understand why her mother was being taken away. “I didn’t do this.” But no one believed her. The jury deliberated for only four hours. “Guilty.” The sentence was the maximum the state allowed. Jennifer was taken to the women’s prison. She left behind a daughter, a life, a career—everything. In the first months, she still had hope: motions, appeals. Her lawyer worked tirelessly. “We’re going to prove your innocence, Jennifer. We just need time.” But time passed. One year, two, three. Each appeal denied. Each door closing. Each day, Jennifer became harder, colder, more empty. Have you ever felt that? When hope simply ends? When you stop expecting things to get better because hoping hurts more than accepting? Jennifer stopped talking about being innocent. She stopped crying. She stopped feeling. Until the sixth year. It was an ordinary Tuesday in October 2024 when the guard came to get her. “Walsh, meeting room. Your attorney is here.” Jennifer was taken to a small, isolated room. Just a table, two chairs, and a guard outside the door. Her lawyer was sitting with that expression she already knew well. The expression of someone who is about to deliver bad news while trying to look professional. “Jennifer, we need to talk.” He waited for her to sit. “The final appeal was denied,” he said bluntly. “There is nothing more I can do legally.” Jennifer nodded. She already expected it. She always expected it. “The date has been set. November 10th. Two weeks from now.” Ah, so that was it. Six years waiting. And now there was a date. Two weeks? Jennifer didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just looked at her own hands—hands that used to save lives, now condemned for supposedly taking one. “I understand,” was all she said. The lawyer seemed to want to say something else. Something comforting, perhaps. But what do you say in a situation like that? He simply shook her hand and left. That night, Jennifer stayed awake staring at the ceiling of her cell. Two weeks. Fourteen days. What do you do with fourteen days when you know they’re the last ones? The answer came three days later, on a Saturday. Visitation day. Jennifer hadn’t received visitors in two years. Her sister had moved to another state with Jennifer’s daughter, Emily. It was easier that way, starting over far away, without the shame, without the questions. That’s why Jennifer wasn’t expecting anyone when the guard came calling her. “Walsh, you have a visitor.” Jennifer frowned. “There must be some mistake.” “It’s not a mistake. Room three. Let’s go.” The visitation room had that characteristic smell of disinfectant and sweat. Metal tables. Uncomfortable chairs. Guards in the corners watching everything. And there, sitting at one of the tables, was Emily. Fifteen now. Hair longer than Jennifer remembered. Taller. More grown. Six years is a long time in a child’s life. Jennifer sat down slowly, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to do with her hands. Emily looked at her with those brown eyes that were so much like her own. “Hi, Mom.” Two words. Simple. But they broke something inside Jennifer that had been cracked for years. “Emily.” Her voice came out hoarse. “What are you doing here?” “Aunt Linda told me about the date.” Silence. “I needed to come.” Jennifer wanted to look strong. She wanted to be the mother Emily deserved, even after everything. But the words came out with difficulty. “You didn’t have to. It’s a long trip.” “Mom,” Emily leaned forward, and Jennifer saw her eyes were red. She had cried. Probably a lot. “I know you didn’t do it.” Jennifer closed her eyes. “Emily.”…

    admin