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Four States: My Story – Author’s Note
This book exists because there was no way to leave this story untold. For many years, I tried to do exactly that. I moved forward. I built a life. I learned how to close chapters and live with what came next. But this one never closed. It stayed with me—quiet at times, loud at others—waiting…
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Four States Prologue: A West Virginia Family Farm Story
The land doesn’t announce itself when you arrive. There’s no sign welcoming you to Four States, West Virginia—no marker to tell you that this place mattered once, or that it still does. You find it only if you’re looking, tucked along a narrow road in southern Marion County, where the hills fold inward and the…
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Four States: Chapter One – Ruby Memorial
May 17, 2006 Ruby Memorial Hospital The nurse paused at the door before stepping out, her silhouette briefly outlined in the hallway light. “What time is it?” I asked. She glanced at her watch. “Two a.m.,” she said softly, then closed the door behind her. Darkness reclaimed the room. Two a.m.? I blinked into the…
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Four States: Chapter Two – Aunt Mary
September 23, 2002 Spartanburg, South Carolina The phone rang in the late afternoon, just as a soft gray light pressed against the windows of my apartment. I had been home from college classes for a few hours, the day already winding down. My one-bedroom place was quiet, tidy, familiar. I walked over to the phone,…
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Four States: Chapter Three – The Inheritance
October 2002 We didn’t expect the farm to go to my dad. Aunt Mary had no children of her own, and no other living relatives besides my dad and his three siblings. So we assumed she’d split the farm between them. Fair, even, practical. But when the will was read, the entire 117-acre property was…
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Four States: Chapter Four – Our Furry and Feathered Friends
I used to tell people I went to the farm to visit my parents. That was true—but it wasn’t the whole truth. I was just as eager to see the animals. The farm, after all, didn’t just smell like animals and feed—it smelled like home. And home wasn’t home without them. They were more than…
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Four States: Chapter Five – Traveling Mercies
October 2002 – March 2004 I began to take frequent trips to West Virginia after my parents moved to the farm. At first, the trips were just to visit them—for holidays and breaks from classes and work—but over time, the meaning of those visits changed. As I started helping my dad more on the farm,…
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Four States: Chapter Six – A House Gutted and a Lesson Learned
October 2002 – June 2003 The hills of West Virginia were awash in the warm tones of autumn—burnt orange, rusted red, golden yellow. The air was crisp, the kind that wakes you up and makes you reach for a jacket. The farm was quiet, peaceful, and the house—though livable for the moment—looked like it hadn’t…
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Four States: Chapter Seven – What’s an Alpaca?
Spring 2003 Phone rings. I pick up.“Bob! What’s an alpaca?” No hello. No context. Just a blunt question, dropped like a brick into my Saturday morning. The voice on the other end was my brother Chris—confused, irritated, and sounding like he thought I’d failed him as a sibling. “I don’t know,” I said. “Why?” “Mom…
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Four States: Chapter Eight – Between Two Worlds
Spring of 2003 was a whirlwind. Life felt split between two worlds: Spartanburg and the farm in Four States. I didn’t see it at the time, but that year marked the beginning of a slow, inevitable shift in where I belonged. The Cold Drive North I drove up to the farm for spring break in…
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Four States: Chapter Nine – Winters of Decision
December 2003 – February 2004 If we ever needed a sense of urgency to get the farmhouse habitable, it was facing down a cold West Virginia winter. Especially when winter meant living in a 5th wheel. There was no warning when the propane ran out—no sound, no sputter—just the creeping chill that spread like a…
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Four States: Chapter Ten – The Move
Late February 2004 The farmhouse smelled like kerosene from the space heaters. Cold wind slipped through cracks in the walls, and even though the thermostat never dropped below freezing, it often hovered in the 40s, sometimes dipping into the 30s at night. My whole body carried the scent of drywall and sawdust. We stayed warm…