The Howlin’ Owls

Back in 2012 Becca and I started what we called a family band. Becca played banjo and I played guitar and we practiced nearly every day. Back then, we lived the simple life. Many of our primary heartbreaks were still yet to come. We opportunities were still forming. We were still chasing boys and messing around every day after class.

During these days we often spent our time at my (now estranged ) father’s house on Beaver Lake. Kerry and Robin, living in San Francisco, weren’t there much and I found the house to be somewhat mine for all the years I went to college in Fayetteville.

The house sat high on a hill over looking the lake. My uncle Mike had built 80 someodd stairs from the backyard down the hill to our two boat docks. Our cove, like so many others was quiet. The water was clear and especially on winter mornings the lake was almost deserted.

Before going down to the cove Becca and I would sit on that long back porch and watch the sunrise as is spread over the water.

I was always so grateful to have her there. Though she likely never knew that her place on that back porch was some of the closest experiences of family I had had in a very long time. Otherwise having spent much of my young adult life in isolation, anxiety and depression.

for a year until our life changed — “Real life” set in.

Becca started a career in mental health and moved to North Carolina. I stayed behind and pursued my coffee career and later my work as one half of The Coverlets.