Born and raised in Kansas City, I met my wife, Erin, on a whim at church when I was in my early twenties. From that day forward, we spent our lives together traveling, moving city to city, including New York, where we pursued our passions. For Erin, it was under the lights of the Broadway stage and for me, it was joining the Harlem Run Club and entering competitive races.
As we were looking to write our next chapter, we set our sights on a slower pace with a warmer climate and found ourselves in Florida. After visiting Erin's parents who had relocated to Babcock Ranch, a solar-powered town just outside Ft. Myers, we were intrigued by its unique neighborhoods, tight-knit and diverse community, and sustainability components.
Even more exciting, its plethora of trails, greenspaces, and pathways were perfect for my active lifestyle. We were at the pinnacle of our lives, and relationship, when tragedy struck six months into our new life in Florida. Erin was late arriving home one night and after calling her several times, I grew concerned and decided to go out looking for her.
While driving around, I received a phone call I never thought would happen—Erin had been in a severe car accident and was in the hospital. As I headed to Gulf Coast Hospital, I drove by the scene of the crash and saw her car flipped on the side of the road. I rushed to see her.
When I arrived, the medical providers informed me Erin was transferred to the ICU and by the next morning, I received the horrific.
