We honeymooned in the Mammoth Lakes area. We went on hikes and explored earthquake faults. We enjoyed the countryside together. Then I suggested we play “horse” at the basketball court where we were staying. She destroyed me on the court. That set the stage for me to know she would never back off to stroke my manly ego.

After our return home, we moved into the Rose Street house near Lakewood Boulevard that we had rented from a woman in her 90’s. Then there were the realities of early married life and renting. Once, when our roof began leaking, our landlord’s husband and his older brother came to replace the roof. We thought there would surely be at least one death up there on the roof. But no one died, and the leaks stopped. 

Another time, the bathroom faucet began leaking. The husband also made that repair. He did not bother to shut off the water supply when replacing the faucet. Water poured everywhere and generously beyond the bathroom and into the living room. Once he finished up, we spent the next several days drying out our floors and ridding ourselves of the musty smell. 

Once, as we were leaving a hardware store, someone was giving away a puppy. She was cute and fluffy and came home with us. We named her Scamper. She became a neighborhood favorite, and we were known as Scamper’s parents.

We soon moved next door to an identical house but with a different landlord. We could remove our things from one home and place them in the same spot in the second house. Our new landlord was a long-time family friend who had a rule against pets in the house. We managed to sneak Scamper inside sometimes. Our landlord liked her and looked the other way when she made it inside. He owned the catering business that catered our wedding. We often worked at his catering gigs to make extra money.

It was a humble yet great start, and our first experience flipping a dilapidated home.

We were young, broke, and naive, but we had a goal: to stop renting and start building. With a teacher’s salary and my entry-level accounting wages, the math didn’t add up. Most people saw a budget that couldn’t buy a house; we saw a challenge. Dorothy Benson, our realtor, didn’t just find us a house; she found us a mission.

That 900-square-foot fixer-upper on Artesia Court was our first lesson in providence. We weren’t just slapping paint on walls; we were learning that when you are willing to do the hard, messy work, doors open. We replaced the electrical, the roof, the carpets, and the landscaping. It was back-breaking work, but it was also the first time we realized that we weren’t alone in our struggle. When family and friends showed up to paint, it wasn’t just manual labor—it was community. We started to see that God’s “goodness” wasn’t a sudden miracle that dropped a house in our laps; it was the strength He gave us to work for it, and the people He placed in our lives to help us carry the load. We bought it for $17,500 and sold it for $33,000, but the real profit wasn’t the money. It was the unshakable realization that even in the face of impossible odds, we could overcome. This was a huge victory for us as a united couple, backed by family, friends, and the kindness of God.

My ongoing passion for cars provided some of our earliest lessons in teamwork. While living on Artesia Court, a body shop across the street had put a 1963 Porsche 356 for sale for $3,600. I wanted the car, and Kathy thought I should buy it, but I ultimately passed because I felt the interior was too small for my height. In good condition, it would be worth well over $100k now. Maybe I should have just accepted being a little crowded, though with my history of vehicles, I likely would have moved on to another project anyway.

Kathy taught for three years in central Los Angeles. A new school principal came in her third year, who thought that only African American teachers were capable of teaching African American students. He took every opportunity to criticize and embarrass her and the six other non-African American teachers at his school. She had been excellent with the kids, but her principal didn’t want her in that neighborhood. She burned out from the fight and decided to work elsewhere after the year ended. She planned to return to teaching but needed space. But her experience with the students here affected her as an educator for the decades to come.

Seeking a fresh environment after the burnout of teaching, Kathy transitioned into corporate manufacturing, taking a position as a buyer for a manufacturing company. She was a great buyer but felt out of place. There was a time, though, that they asked her to order 100 washers. She ordered 100 pounds of them instead. She was teased about that for the rest of her time with the company. That’s a lot of washers. They may still have some of that stock.

While building our foundation, our deepest desire was to become parents, but every pregnancy ended before reaching the three-month mark. Kathy’s patriarchal blessing promised children, making these repeated miscarriages an agonizing test of our faith. In those dark moments, we had to trust that Heavenly Father’s promises never fail, even when His timetable differs from our own. Four years into our marriage, the Lord answered our prayers when Kathy carried Melissa to full term. Welcoming our daughter safe and healthy reminded us that through every heartbreak, God carries us through and delivers blessings far greater than our sorrow. And we were given time to prepare for this day when Kathy chose a career as a homemaker.

Our little house would not hold three people, so we started looking. I had graduated from college by then, and we were able to afford something larger. Parenting was a role Kathy and I had long hoped for.