Our family farm home—one that has been in our family for 72 years—was lost to a devastating fire on Christmas Eve. This is the home where my dad grew up, where we grew up, and where he spent the last 30 years building, repairing, and caring for every detail with his own hands.

He built the walls, roof, deck, and floors—even sanding and staining them. This house wasn’t just where they lived; it was the heart of our family, where generations gathered, stories were told, meals were shared, and memories were made. I remember collecting rocks in the gravel driveway, playing under the old willow tree, riding our Big Wheels down the hill, and trying to befriend the barn cats. Now our children have those same memories—running the same paths and feeling that same sense of home. This house carried our family’s past, present, and future.

On Christmas Eve, in the middle of the night, Anne woke to a fire. She and my dad escaped quickly with only the clothes they were wearing. The fire department arrived soon after, but the house was completely destroyed, including all of their vehicles.

At this stage in his life, my dad can’t rebuild again—physically or financially. And like many from his generation, he’s too proud to ask for help. He and Anne have always been givers, not receivers—two of the kindest, most loving people you could meet, deeply rooted in helping others, community, and simple acts of kindness. Asking for support doesn’t come easily to them, which is why my siblings and I are doing this on their behalf.

Funds raised will help with temporary housing, replacing essentials, and the long process of rebuilding. This home represents my dad’s life’s work—his heart, labor, love, and dedication to family. Any support you’re able to give, whether through a donation or by sharing, will help bring stability and hope back to our family. Thank you for helping us begin to rebuild what was lost.