“We gotta move so we can move.”

IT MAKES SENSE. We gotta move our stuff  back to our motorhome. Until that’s done, we can’t move down the road. And what we want to do more than anything is move down the road. See the country. Meet the people. Resume our Great American Adventure. That’s what we’re about these days. So let’s get it done! Let’s pack those boxes, load ’em into Eric’s Suburban and drive it across town to Carpenter’s Campers, the RV Dealership where our rig has been hibernating for the last eight months. I want to wake it up, dust it off and get going. We’ve been dreaming about this day for months.

BUT WHO’S GOING TO HELP US. When Florence and I began talking about moving our things back to where they belong in our motorhome, we quickly came to the conclusion that we’d need some help. My doctors have all given their blessings to our plans. They’ve given their permission for me to go. They’ve even embraced our Journey and expressed their genuine enthusiasm. But they haven’t said I’m ready to begin doing everything I’d been able to do before I became so ill. Such as heavy lifting. But we really don’t know anyone who can help. Or do we?

Our friend Eric, on the job. 

SHERIFF ERIC ANDERSON. We have a friend who’s big and strong. He’s a former near-professional football player who for the last six years has been a Deputy Sheriff in Escambia County. He can move mountains, so a couple dozen moving crates would be a walk in the park. But he works long hours and got a wife and three kids. And he just moved his own family to a new home. Dare we ask him to give us a hand? It doesn’t matter the answer to that question because he offered to help without even being prompted. That’s the way he lives his life.

MARK CARPENTER. He’s the gentleman who made it possible for us to survive the tragic necessity of our stay in Pensacola. Mark is the owner of a big RV g RV Dealership in town. It’s called Carpenter’s Campers. Catchy isn’t it? Here’s how Mr. Carpenter helped Florence over a seemingly insurmountable hurdle last Fall. Specifically, my wife was trying to be at the intensive care hospital with me 24/7 as she fended off the doctors’ thinly veiled suggestions that she let me go. She had to make critically important decisions about my care after she made it clear to my doctors that she wasn’t giving up and I wasn’t either. She knew it and she made sure she did the talking and the doctors did the listening. (Thank you, Florence. If I hadn’t been in a comma I’m pretty sure I would have agreed with your assessment of the situation. LOL.)

Mark is on the left in this photo.

WHERE TO STORE OUR MOTORHOME. My wife needed to find a place for our motorhome. And it’s a big one. It won’t fit into lots of RV parks and it won’t fit into most storage facilities. So Florence needed answers to some tough questions. Where to store it? Who even offered long-term storage? And even if they did, would there be enough room? Enter Mark Carpenter. He heard of my plight and contacted Florence. Within minutes he’d introduced himself as a Christian who was going to help us. He’d store the motorhome. Indefinitely…as long as necessary. “Don’t worry about the specifics, just know that the problem of where to store the RV is no more.” And it’s been on Mark’s property in a secure spot ever since. I paid more than $200 each month just to store my jet skis in San Diego before we left. I can’t imagine what the going rate is for storage here. But Mark hasn’t even allowed me to discuss paying him.

Storage area at Carpenter’s Campers where our motorhome has lived for the last eight months. Our spot is not in this photo. It’s in a covered bay in a slightly different location. We’ve got 50 amp service which is what’s required to power our coach. So we’ve been able to run our two air conditioners while we’re unpacking. By the way, the sky looks like this almost every day. Arizona has the best sunsets, but the cloud formations in Florida can’t be beat anywhere else. 

Eric arrives at our apartment ready to give us a hand. “Damn he’s tall” Florence thought to herself.

Our moving crates easily fit inside Eric’s Suburban. Thank God for the big guy and his big car!

“Dude, you’ve made this move so easy it makes me laugh!” That’s the long and the short of it, right? 

“How about right here in front of the fridge?”

Door to door service. This is the covered bay I mentioned. 

THANKS AGAIN, GUYS. WITHOUT YOUR HELP WE’D HAVE BEEN IN A PICKLE. We may return to Pensacola for a week in November to make my doctors happy. And if we do, I want to take both of you to lunch. I just happen to know this great place for chicken gumbo, and it’s a little restaurant that you may not already know about. I’d love to surprise you and I’m sure you’d like the food. So look for us toward the end of the year. Our return visit would be incomplete without seeing you guys again.

I’ll continue my story next time. Plan to join me.