For 19 years Danny and Dylan have worked in this garage making memories and building or repairing cars, racecars, mowers and more. It burned down on the morning of June 25th. Thousands of dollars in tools, a racecar that was nearly complete, two mowers, and two decades of memories lost. Please consider donating to help replace some of the tools and the structure so new memories can be built.

A Post from Amy, Danny’s wife, describing their thoughts:

- "At least it wasn't the house"

- "Things can be replaced, people cant."

- " At least you and your family aren't hurt.."

- "It's just the garage."

These are all statements that have been made to me by friends and they have been statements I have made to myself and to my family. In all the gloominess they have seen today, they need that glimmer of hope.

But this afternoon, I walked down to the garage on my own when the dust had settled and it was quiet.

It is NOT just a garage.

To the naked eye, that area may look like a heap of burned rubbish. But to me and to my family, it marks the end of 19 incredible years of overloaded testosterone, car parts, oil, racing equipment, and pure unapologetically blood, sweat, and tears. 19 years, because that is how long we have lived here.

Danny was racing before he met me in 2000. I fell in love with watching him have so much fun with it. Racing has always been in the family blood whether it be stock cars, drag races, dirt track, circle asphalt, etc. The list goes on with multiple family members who have participated in this sport one way or another.

My kids LOVED watching their father race, especially Dylan. He was in the stands hollering for his daddy when he was just 5 years old. Fast forward to him being 16 and able to race himself. Now he's almost 21 years old and still going strong at it.

That garage has been their man cave. I don't go down there often because I know how much that time together means to the both of them, even in that tiny space.

That garage has been a place where secrets are kept. Where tears have been shed and hugs have found one another after something devastating had happened to the family. It's where they drank beer together and didnt have to walk up to the house to get one, because they had their own fridge. It's where they had multiple chairs set up so if a friend came over to watch or help, they always had a place to sit.

That garage may have been built poorly on the outside, but what happened within those walls was nothing but spectacular.

It's where Danny collected tools one by one throughout the years. Its where he would get mad and yell at anyone who didn't put those tools back in their rightful space. It's where he collected car signs and aired up our tires and cussed at the tires that wouldn't come off. It's where our oil was changed and where you might have been clean when you walked in there, but you certainly weren't when you walked out.

It's where they stood when the weatherman told us all to head to the basement because a tornado had just been spotted. It's where I left them laughing as I literally did go to the basement.

It's where we had parties and showed off the love that had been poured into those cars.

It wasn't just a garage. It had a purpose. A soul. And if those walls could talk....

Ah man. It wasn't MY garage but it had meaning to the men I love, so walking around the rubble this afternoon, truly gutted me.