Kent and I were married in November of 1979. We had to cut a few corners since we had to pay most of the wedding expenses ourselves. I borrowed Danni’s wedding dress. Cathy made all the bouquets and table decorations. The food served at the reception was mainly dishes made from ingredients that Kent’s parents donated from their pizza restaurant in Farmersville.

The name of our business was Small Car Specialties, located in Anaheim, CA. Every year we held a giant car show on our premises with hundreds of customized Volkswagens on display. It was really fun putting the shows together and working with various sponsors. For several years running our annual “SCS Showdown” was one of the best-attended VW events in the country.

Once the kids began to arrive, I found myself surrounded by three wonderful little girls.  Cathy’s daughter, Amanda, and Dawn were only a month apart in age so Amanda spent a great deal of time with her cousins in Southern California. They were all three such adorable little things -- and SO much personality between them. The silliness and giggling was practically endless.

We always teased Ryan that he had four mothers: me, Dawn, Breanne, and Amanda.  Truth is, there were more like six of us. Besides us there was Celia (or “Celita” as the kids liked to call her), our wonderful friend from El Salvador who lived with us for five years. (Because Celia spoke no English, Ryan was bi-lingual when he started talking.) And then there was our dear Carol, my quasi-foster daughter.

Carol was raised in a family nearly as dysfunctional as mine. I met her through the church youth program when she was 13-years-old and already a seriously troubled teen. I could relate to what Carol was going through at home, and for whatever reason, she allowed herself to trust me. After her second trip to juvenile hall, I worked out a deal with her mother that basically amounted to joint custody. And I worked out a deal with Carol that as long as she stayed in school and out of trouble she could spend as much time with us as she wanted. Well, she ended up spending a lot of time with us. The kids thought of her (and still do) as an older sister. I thought of her (and still do) as another daughter.