When the Weather Man Said “It Just Picked Up a House”

On a trip home from Florida, we decided to stop in Senoia, Georgia. I mean, Carol and Daryl had just defeated the Whisperers, so it felt like perfect timing to visit the town where they filmed The Walking Dead. Plus, as a bonus, Norman Reedus—who plays Daryl—owns a restaurant there with Greg Nicotero, the show’s director and producer.

We decided to stay the night in Newnan so we’d have plenty of time to tour the town and maybe grab a souvenir at the restaurant. We fell asleep around 11:00, but were abruptly woken by the emergency alert on our iPhones. Being from the Pacific Northwest, we were only used to those alerts when a child had gone missing. To my surprise, this one said: “Tornado Emergency in your area. Take shelter now. Check local media.”

I said, “What the—?” and we quickly turned on the TV to see the weatherman reporting on an F4 tornado in the area. I called the front desk because this was the first time we’d ever experienced something like this.

The man answered, “Front desk, can I help you?”

I said, “Are we safe down here? I see there’s a tornado in the area.”

He replied, “I don’t know… do you want to come down here and hang out with me?”

I giggled and said, “Thanks, but I think we’ll be okay.”

I told Mom what he said, and she replied, “Don’t worry, I think we’re supposed to jump in the bathtub, so we’ll be fine.”

I called my sister in Spokane to tell her what was happening, and they turned on the Weather Channel. She said, “Wow, yeah, there’s a big storm with a tornado in your area on TV.”

Just then, the man on our TV said, “We should be able to tell you where it’s going in a second.” A moment later he added, “Oh, look at that—it just picked up a house.” Then he said, “It’s going to be hitting Newnan next.”

And as if on cue, the power went out.

I quickly told my sister, “The power just went out,” and went to the window to pull back the curtain. Because it was almost midnight, it was dark, but off in the distance I could see a light brown mass with purple and green lightning running through it.

The tornado only took 10 to 15 minutes to travel through the town, with one death. I’ve since learned it passed 1.5 to 2 miles from the Motel 6 where we were staying. We had never seen a tornado before, and I haven’t seen one since.

When Karma came to the Biltmore Mansion

In 2018, while at my sister’s wedding in Florida, I was making small talk with an old friend of mine. I mentioned, “Well, in a couple of days we’ll be making the 3,000‑mile‑ish drive home. Do you have any suggestions for new things to do on the way?”

His eyes opened a little wider and he replied, “You have to see the Biltmore Mansion. A buddy of mine took the tour and wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

For me, I had only heard the Biltmore name during the two or three seconds I was paying attention in history class. So I said, “Do tell.” After getting the basics, I did some research and thought, heck yeah, and worked it into our route home.

When we entered Asheville, we checked into the Motel 6 and stayed the night before going to the mansion. The next morning, we entered the main gate of the 8,000‑acre estate — and still had about three miles to drive before even reaching the main parking area.

I jumped out of the car to get the details of the tour and figure out a plan for how my mom and I could make it work with both dogs: a German Shepherd named Karma and a part–Great Pyrenees named Albert Einstein. I learned the cost of the tour was $80 a piece, no dogs allowed, but we could walk the dogs around the grounds and gardens.

Mom said, “You should go and take pictures of the tour, and I’ll stay with the dogs and see a slideshow of what you took later.” So I thanked her for babysitting and headed off to experience and document how the “other half” lived.

In my excitement, I hopped on the tour bus that drives visitors up to the mansion door. The bus driver said, “Everybody, look at this gal in the Beatles T‑shirt and how happy she is to be here.” I then noticed the giant grin on my face, and giggled.

At the door, I was handed an audio device that played information about each room. From there, I marched with the other ants through the stunning libraries, bedrooms, dining room, and into the servants’ quarters, as well as the pool and bowling alley.

After the tour, I jumped back in the car and gave Mom a short synopsis of the experience. Then we took the dogs for a walk through the grounds and gardens. Before leaving, I said, “Can I get a picture of each of the dogs in front of the mansion?” Mom replied, “Of course — I’ll hold the other one.”

As soon as I finished, an older gentleman walked up and asked, “Is there a way you could take our picture?” I said, “Sure,” looking at the couple standing there. “Turns out I’m a photographer.”

He said, “Great,” then motioned to ten or so people standing off in the distance to come over and get ready for the picture. I said, “Whoa.” It turned out to be a senior citizens’ group visiting the mansion.

I steadied my hand under the pressure of getting the perfect shot and snapped a few with his phone. “Okay, how’s this?” I asked. He showed the picture to the group. Next thing I knew, five hands reached out with their phones, wanting me to take another with theirs. I knew I had their approval. They all laughed, and he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll text it to them.” Then he thanked me.

Mom and I walked back, loaded the dogs into the car, and took our time driving the five miles to the East Gate — and then we were on our way.

Powdered Faith at Cafe’ Du Monde

A couple of years ago, when I took my first solo run cross-country with Faith and Winston Churchill, I stopped at Café Du Monde, which has since become a staple of my travels. I don’t think I’ve gone across the country once without stopping there.

I parked the car, and since it was pretty warm out, I left the air conditioner blasting and pulled the emergency brake. I ran inside to grab some delicious beignets and a souvenir. While I was looking for a mug with my aunt and uncle, who had joined me for a few days, I suddenly heard a massive honking horn. Everyone in the café turned to look outside. My first thought was that it was a road rage incident, so I glanced back at the mugs, still trying to decide which one I wanted.

Suddenly, a man walked in the door and said, in the most Southern accent you’ve ever heard, “There’s a dog honking a horn.” We all looked out the windows. I asked, “Does it happen to be a tan-colored shepherd?” He said, “Yep,” and made the motion of her honking the horn. Then he added, “When you’re done, I’ve got to meet that dog.”

With a little apprehension—because Faith at the time was not a people dog—I bought the beignets and the mug, then went to the car to get her and Winston so they could meet the man and his wife outside by the chairs. Faith immediately sat down in front of him, slowly put her ears back, and licked the air in front of him while he caressed her head with both hands. I was shocked—it was awesome.

Afterward, my aunt and uncle and I decided to stay and eat the beignets there. After a short while, Winston got up and peered over the table. I saw a slow drip of drool roll off the end of his tongue and land right into my aunt’s cup. I said, “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I’ll buy you another one.” She said, “No, that’s OK. I was almost done.” I replied, “OK, well I guess we should hit the road again,” and off we went.

King-Size Kindness

We were driving somewhere in the Midwest and had gone through a few tolls, scraping together quarters. At one point, we even had to get a receipt so we could pay later. We were about to run out of gas and still needed money for the tolls, so I said, “Let’s stop,” and picked a gas station off the map.

Turns out, it took us 11 miles off course.

We finally got there, and I filled up the tank. Then I said, “Let me run in and see if I can get some cash.” Inside, there were two guys standing around and another guy sitting at a computer screen. I asked if I could get some cash and they said the only way to do that was through the ATM.

I sighed, “Oh man. I just got gas here and need cash for the tolls that were to come.?” “Sorry,” they said, “our manager won’t let us do that.” “What if I bought $20 worth of food or something and returned it to get the cash?” Again, they said, “We can’t do that either.”

Then one of them added again, “Our manager won’t let us.”

Suddenly, the man at the computer screen spoke up: “We can let this go just this time.” I lit up. “Awesome!”

I turned around like I was on my own personal Price Is Right, trying to figure out what I could grab to hit $20. One of the guys said, “You should get some of that beef jerky—it’s real expensive.” “Okay,” I said, grabbing the most expensive one. I still had money to go, so I grabbed a couple other things.

Then the manager said, “You might wanna get one of those king-size candy bars. That should put you right about at $20.” Both guys laughed. I giggled and said, “Cool!”

I got to the register with my items, and it came out to about $18 and some change. So I returned them and got the cash back.

I said, “Thank you so much!” Both guys were smiling, and the manager said, “No problem. Thank you.”

I ran out to the car and said, “Mom, I got us the cash—we can pay the tolls!”

Making Friends With Burros

As we were leaving Beatty, Nevada, we stopped at the corner gas station for fuel before leaving town. I glanced over and saw the herd of burros that frequented the town. I had seen many pictures and read about different encounters tourists had, and hoped we would have the same experience. There they were, just strolling across the street as if they were using the crosswalk. I asked my mom, “Do you mind if I get some pictures?” She said, “Go for it.”

So, I excitedly grabbed my camera and inserted myself into the group of tourists gathered around, all with their phones up, capturing the moment. I was a little disappointed at the time and got back in my car, saying, “Well, that was a bummer, I couldn’t get a shot with all the people gathered around.”

Just then, I noticed the burros kept walking down the street, and I said, “Do you mind if I drive around the block and try again?” Mom said, “Of course not.” We went around the block, and there they were. I parked far enough back so as not to scare them. I said, “Can you grab some pictures of me taking their pictures?” She said, “Sure.”

I got out of the car and slowly walked toward them, thinking maybe I could get a passing shot as they walked by. Strolling halfway toward them, I got down on my haunches to get the shot, and before I knew it, the whole group, including the babies, had stopped when they reached me. They then proceeded to surround me like I was a quarterback about to call a play. One rested his head on my left shoulder while another licked my exposed knee through a hole in my jeans.

At this time, I began to pet one while taking pictures of the others. Then they slowly departed, meandering down the street with not a care in the world. It was an incredible experience I will never forget.

Visit from mom

On my way home from Florida, driving on the freeway, I noticed I was heading into a gigantic black and grey storm. So, I quickly stopped at a rest stop to prepare for what was to come. As soon as I got out of the car, the raindrops started to fall. I ran in and then back out to the car, knowing the dogs would also need to go. As soon as I got into the car, the rain grew heavier. I was hoping for a break but Faith started to bark, letting me know she couldn’t wait. So, I threw on their leashes and ran them out to a covered picnic bench, hoping they would do their business quickly. As the rain was pounding down and I was pleading for a quick “go potty,” I noticed a cardinal sitting on a small chain link fence to the right. I squinted my eyes and thought, “Am I really seeing what I’m seeing, and why is it just sitting there in this torrential downpour?” Just then, a loud thunder sounded, and the three of us ducked. I looked back for the cardinal, but it was gone. When I got back in the car, I remembered a friend telling me that when you are visited by a cardinal, it is actually a visit from a loved one who has passed on. It was a few days later when my sister reminded me that it happened on Mother’s Day

“Where the River Curves and Courage Rises”

As I was leaving Kanab, Utah on my way to Florida, I stopped by a place I’d seen in pictures many times as a kid and always wanted to visit in person: Horseshoe Bend. I pulled into the parking lot and noticed a line. I didn’t think there was a fee, but when I got to the gatekeeper, he said, “$10 please — and it’s dog friendly.” I figured, hey, I paid the money, might as well give it a shot.

As I got out of the car, I noticed there were a lot of people. I was really concerned about how Faith would act around the crowd — this was the first time Winston had been on the road, let alone in a crowd. The guy said, “Just follow the trail,” so we did.

The walk was about a mile and a half round-trip, and with the temperature at a pleasant 70°, it wasn’t bad. We finally reached the bend and got to look down and take a picture. There were different elevations you could climb up to, with railings for safety, and I managed to get a good photo considering how many people were there.

We turned around and made the trip back up the hill, stopping a few times along the way at shaded shelters placed for people who needed a break from the heat and the walk. We sat next to a couple and their baby, and both dogs did wonderfully.

We finally made it back to the car, and it felt like a real accomplishment — conquering my fear of adventuring alone, and watching the dogs meet strangers with calm and curiosity. Now I have a photo of a place you’ll see on most screensavers. Well worth it.

“We Can, We Will”

Back in 2021, we found ourselves checking into a motel in Poesta, Iowa. It was built in the shape of a U, with the driveway leading up to the center of the second floor. As I was walking toward the lobby, I looked over and saw a little stuffed dog rolling and spinning in circles. It was due to the shape of the building creating a vortex of wind.

I thought to myself, If I see him in the morning, I’m gonna grab it. Sure enough, that morning, the little stuffed toy was still rolling around the grass, just as he had been the day before. So I took the dogs out to go to the bathroom and headed toward it. I picked him up—he felt like he had been tumble-dried for days. We kept him and gave him the name Vortex.

As I was about to head for the car, I looked down and saw a grocery bag of different toiletries spread out on the grass. Just then, I noticed a brown coin with the name of the 9th Cavalry Regiment on it. I looked up the value and saw it was only worth $10. The 9th Cavalry Regiment was one of the original Buffalo Soldier regiments. Their motto was “We Can, We Will.”

At that moment, I thought of my mother, who loved carrying touchstones and could use a bit of symbolism for life, so I gave it to her. Then in 2023, after losing her and inheriting her car, I thought it would be perfect to keep the coin in there as a reminder of our adventures.

Three months went by, and some no-good people broke into the car and ransacked it. They took all of her paperwork and threw it everywhere, even smashing a giant apple snail shell we had found and she had been keeping. The coin was the only thing they stole, probably thinking it was valuable. What they didn’t know was that it was priceless to me.

Then, two years later, my twin sister surprised me with another one—an incredible, heartfelt gift.

Don’t Forget The Room Key.

In May 2023, on the morning of the fourth leg of our memorial trip in Madison, Wisconsin, we faced an unexpected challenge. It was Faith's first cross-country adventure, and I was a bit wary of how she'd react. While checking out of room 114, I started by carrying my bags to the car parked just outside the door. I hesitated—should I take Faith on her leash, or just close the door behind me, making it look shut but not locked?

I decided to take a chance. I slowly shut the door and ran with my bag toward the car. Suddenly, I heard a slam. Faith wanted to come too; she took a full run at the door, jumped up, and slammed it shut violently. I felt a surge of relief, knowing I had the room key in my pocket and could open the door to get her.

But when I turned the door knob, I pushed my shoulder against the door it had only opened an inch. Faith’s slam had caused the metal lock to shift, allowing the door to open only a couple of inches. There she was, her lovely face poking through, barking as if puzzled about what was wrong.

I ran to the office to explain the situation. The staff member came down to help but couldn’t open the door. They even debated removing the window to get inside. Eventually, maintenance was called and said they’d arrive in 30 minutes. It was past check-out time, and all we could do was wait.

Then I realized—Faith’s leash was still on. Maybe we could lasso the metal lock and pull it back. Holding the leash over the latch, my sister shut the door again, forcing the latch to flip back and unlock. Faith was free!

Since then, I’ve taken two more cross-country trips with Faith, but I’ll always remember the time she locked me out of the room right when I was supposed to be checking out.

In memory of…

The picture of the swallow is not the bird in the story but one of a barn swallow I took some days later. As I was leaving town on another adventure, I was driving on a bridge high above Coeur D’Alene Lake, where many tree swallows were swooping and flying, most likely catching mosquitoes or other insects. Just as I came up the hill, there was a swallow headed straight for my car as if it were a kamikaze fighter. At the last moment, it zigged and I zagged, letting out an “aaaah” of relief.

Some time had passed, and we pulled into a Montana rest stop when a lady walking toward our car—who had intended to proceed to the restroom—stopped. Bent over slightly and squinting, she stared directly at the front of my car. I automatically thought, “Oh no, we both zigged and a collision was the result.” She looked at me, and as I was about to get out of the car, made a motion with her finger and thumb about an inch apart, moving them back and forth as if doing charades.

I got out and said, “Dang, I did hit him.” There were two wings jackknifed into the grill. Her husband walked over, and she said, “Look.” He replied, “What, did someone give you the bird?” as he pulled the little body from the grill. Surprisingly, it came out in the shape of the space where it was jammed. As he walked over and put the poor bird in the trash can, I said, “Thank you.”

A Cat Named Sam

When I was visiting the cemetery located in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, with my 6-year-old nephew, we happened upon a cat inside the cemetery walls that appeared injured. My nephew asked me to please contact someone to help him. Before we left, Jesse—my nephew—ran back in to tell the cat that everything would be okay and that we would be sending help.

I reached out to the local cat rescue, Save A Gato, for assistance, and they promptly set out to rescue him. In the meantime, a German tourist had also met Sam and highlighted him on the Save A Gato website. We started a text conversation about how Sam felt like a little angel when you saw him.

After staking out the cemetery, Save A Gato managed to take him into their care.

When I got home, I reloaded an app called Flickr, which I hadn’t visited in a few years. Upon signing in, I noticed there was one picture I had favorited long ago. It was a photo of an orange cat in Old San Juan, sitting in the sun on one of the walls that surround the city. I promptly contacted the photographer, who turned out to be an astronomy teacher, orchestra leader, and photographer. He told me he had been on vacation in Puerto Rico and was captivated by this orange cat, so he took its picture. It was the only photo he took of a cat on an island full of cats.

We compared pictures and identified him as the same cat.

Excited by the odds, I searched YouTube for “orange cat Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.” There was one short video taken years earlier—and there he was, much healthier but with the same identifying ear marks.

Save A Gato contacted me and told me that if I wanted to adopt Sam, I was more than welcome to bring him home. As I was considering the idea, a few days later they explained that his injuries were due to skin cancer from sitting in the sun too long. A kind man named Cesar told me that Sammy was in his care and that he would stay with him until it was time for him to be escorted over the rainbow bridge.

Sam will be forever in my heart.

Save A Gato later posted a memorial to Sam on their Facebook page, where people from around the world shared their condolences.

Blog Post - The Story

Back in 2016 my mother and I decided to drive across the country and meet up with the rest of the family in Florida. Being from Spokane Washington it would mean driving an estimated 5,000 miles round trip with my German shepherd named Karma and my Great Pyrenees mix named Albert Einstein. Most people said, “you’re nuts” or “you will end up killing each other by the time it’s over.” To our surprise we had an incredible adventure. A lot of what we experienced was activities that needed to include two big dogs, with a few ‘human-like’ things. Six years later and five trips taken, on my birthday in April of 2022, Karma lost her battle with time and passed away at the age of 14 1/2. We left for the sixth trip three days later. With the loss of Karma on my mind we took our time, driving the long way and headed straight down the middle of California to Yosemite and then on to Texas then Florida. It was the longest of the six trips we had taken. Mom knew I needed the time to reflect and relax before heading back to life. So, the return trip consisted of driving up the east coast feeling blessed for what I still had with me and mourning the loss of my best friend, Karma. As we hit Virginia, we decided to take a left and make it back to Spokane for my youngest nephew’s birthday. For the next three months my bond with my other dog, Albert Einstein, grew deeper. When suddenly one morning I woke to find him having a full blown seizure. After rushing him to the pet emergency, it was later determined that the seizure was caused by brain cancer. With my mom and sisters by my side I had to make the ultimate, heart-breaking decision and have Albert Einstein put to sleep so he would be out of pain. I went dogless for a month only to come across a Craigslist ad for a Siberian Shepherd with no pictures. Spontaneously, I emailed him and asked if he had any girls available, to which, a short time later he responded. After seeing one picture of three girls I was quickly in ahh of one in particular. She had the most mesmerizing heaven and earth eyes, one blue and one brown. I decided to go for it. When deciding what to name her, I figured it should be one of the two things that got me through losing my two best friends. Her name was going to be Faith, either that or antidepressant. So, with my twin sister and mom in tow, we drove to Seattle and I adopted one of the most beautiful and energetic puppies I’ve ever laid my eyes on. While training the new puppy, I asked my mom, “So, do you want to do a seventh trip across country with this energizer bunny?” Her reply, “We will see, she should start to settle down at nine months old.” That being said and with fingers crossed, we started to plan the seventh adventure that would include the last eight states we hadn’t seen yet. This time with Faith as a new road trip companion. Then, with roughly two months to go, mom had a terrible accident on the stairs and bumped her head. Ending in an emergency surgery for a brain bleed caused by the blood thinners she had been taking for 35 years. We held vigil by her beside praying for a miracle. Unfortunately, on Valentines Day 2023 mom passed away. Left with the utter grief and shock of losing my three adventure buddies within a year, my brother-in-law made a unique suggestion. Why don’t the remaining family members go on that seventh trip and see the last eight states, all while leaving a little of mom’s ashes in each. Then we would proceed to Florida for her last wish, to be buried at sea.
This is a story full of sadness and loss, blossoming into grateful hearts coming together for mom to honor and memorialize. her. Family, learning how short life can truly be. Please consider following along for what is to come.