Home > Wilson Stories > home from the holidays

home from the holidays

Beth and I have made our return to Jackson following our epic two week Texas road trip.

Here are the stats:

  • 13 days
  • 1800 miles
  • 4 cities
  • 2 sides of our family
  • 12 college friends
  • 5 college friends’ babies
  • countless Christmas gifts for baby Abbey

It was a great trip and we were disappointed to have to make the long return drive home.

As we got closer and closer to Jackson, our apprehension began to mount.  If you know us, you know we have a history of misadventures when it comes to road trips.

Broken down cars, exploding clutches, lost lugnuts and (almost) lost tires, flat tires, and that is all before we actually get home.  Once we arrive home we have had to battle floods and homeless people.

You will understand, then, why the Mississippi River and the Jackson city limits were not relieving landmarks as we made our return from the West.

Amazingly, we arrived to a perfectly sound house – no floods, no vagrants, no broken in windows, no problems!

flat-old-louisville

In honor of our long history of traveling disaster, I have elected to re-post/rewrite our greatest “away from home” misadventure – ‘Junie’s House’

To set the scene, Beth and I were living in Louisville, Kentucky about two and a half years ago when the following events unfolded:

Beth and I moved into this unbelievable “B&B/Pimp My Apartment/Penthouse/Seriously Phat Pad” in late July (2006)

The place is on the 4th (top) floor of our building, so we decided to do a two weekend move from our old apartment to the new place.

The first weekend (July 10-12) we decided to have all of our stuff packed up and invite our incredible friends from school and church to load the boxes into cars and then haul fourteen carloads of our stuff (including my six bookshelves jam packed with books) up four flights of stairs.

It went well and we did not loose any of our friends because they are gracious.

Along with all those boxes, we brought along our futon mattress and spent the following week sleeping on the floor in our new and cavernous apartment.

At this point you may be wondering, “why a two weekend move?”

For one, we are cheap and did not want to pay for a moving truck and, secondly, we knew that we would absolutely lose friends if we tried to do it all in one weekend.

The really difficult thing about the move was the staircase situation.

There are two sets of stairs up to our place. The back staircase is a plain jane, relatively narrow set of stairs that is great for everyday use, but not for over-sized couches, desks, and entertainment centers…which leaves us with the front staircase.

This is the tricky part.

Our front entryway is a spiral staircase, which meant that we would have to haul 4 truckloads of furniture up three flights of stairs and then manually lift all of our stuff from the third floor to the fourth (like I said, we have good friends).

But, I get ahead of myself a bit…lets not forget about Junie.

At the end of our week of sleeping on the floor in the new place Beth and I went to our old apartment to break down some of the furniture for the final moving day – but when we tried to go in through the front door we discovered that the door was locked…from the inside!!!

I circled around to the back door and discovered that it was wide open.

Inside the apartment I found a bizarre scene.

Chocolate melted into the carpet.  Candy everywhere.  Office covered with my childhood memorabilia I left behind in an old cedar chest.  Someone had brought in a pot and cooked everything that was in our refrigerator. “Kevin” written in sharpie on the counter top.  Someone had individually burned approximately 300 kitchen matches randomly throughout our apartment.  Our bed was slept in and there was a slinky under the covers (!?!?).  In our bathroom – a wet washrag, bar of soap, and somebody’s clothes were in our closet!

Long story short, we ended up calling the cops (who were basically worthless) and when they showed up, all our neighbors came out of their apartments to see what was going on.

We stood around telling them the story and sharing in the shock of our discovery.  When we got to the end of our list of discoveries, they were really curious about the clothing we found.

Indulging their curiosity, I grabbed the shorts, t-shirt, and black tennis shoes.  As soon as the shoes came into eyesight, one of the neighborhood kids eyes lit up.

His mama saw the flicker of recognition and she dug into him.

By the time she got done with her son, we had learned that the shoes belonged to a 14 year old runaway foster kid who had been living in the hallways of our apartment complex.

We will forever think of that apartment, our first home as a young married couple, as Junie’s House.

To round out the story, we were able to move all of our things the next day, nothing had any substantial damage, and we had the  delight of schlepping all of our remarkably heavy things up three flights of stairs and then vertically lifting it about 15 feet to the 4th floor.

Amazingly enough, at the end of all that, compensated only by pizza, sandwiches, and some good laughs and stories, we still have the same friends and we have not been kicked out of Hunsinger Lane Baptist Church for straining the backs of the guys in the Men’s Ministry.

I hope you are still enjoying our bizarre and hilarious experiences here in Louisville…there shall be more to come.

. . . . . . .

Update: As was recently pointed out by Beth’s mom (on our post ‘consider yourself . . . compromised‘), it would seem that we did have a minor catastrophe/ adventure during our road trip after all.

While the details remain shrouded in law enforcement induced mystery, our credit card number was poached – in all likelihood – around the time we were in Texas for the Holidays.

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Categories: Wilson Stories Tags: ,
  1. Brandon
    January 4, 2009 at 11:46 pm

    Such a good story. Never gets old.

  2. Cami
    January 5, 2009 at 10:02 am

    No doubt one of my favorite Wilson stories…simply unbelievable. It’s not too late to consider Abigail June instead of Abigail Ruth in honor of Junie’s House…just think about it.

  3. Julie
    January 5, 2009 at 11:07 am

    I too, love the Junie story–and vote with Bethancourt that Abigail June does have a nice ring! I can’t wait to meet her!!!!!!!

  4. leewilson7170
    January 5, 2009 at 2:29 pm

    Julie, if you want to go ahead and use June as your Abigail’s middle name – feel free, you won’t hurt our feelings a bit.

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