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Good Bad Things

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  60 years ago today, on August 1, 1964, the course of history changed. Evans Dunlap, one of the two brothers who owned, managed, and worked the Dunlap & Co empire, was killed alongside his wife in a car accident. They were headed for Michigan when a drunk driver slammed into their vehicle. Evans and Isabel, both in their 40s, were killed instantly and left behind four children ages 12 to 20. And everything that could have been, was no more. Dunlap & Co was a business that America needed, and a business that has never since come about. Imagine Sears - where you could order a two story 1,900 square foot home. But add the layer of you could customize many more aspects and a crew would come and build it. And build it well and build it fast. And imagine it’s the 1950s. That was the vision and path Dunlap & Co was on. Land leveling and clearing, foundations, lumber, finish work, contractors, to tacking the letters on the mailbox… They. Did. It. All. But then… in a blink of an ey
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But the greatest is…

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 ​As I begin to mentally and physically wrap up my year at Dunlaps, I like to take time to reflect, as I always do.  And you’d think I’d be all thoughts and feels about it regarding our 150th year.  And I am. But I’m… not. It's been a year, my friends. A long, not easy, muddled, exhausting year. Stiffed money, scammed majorly, mistreated at times by people who refuse to take ownership of their own actions. It is crazy easy for me to find the hard this year.  I always do this to myself. It’s probably why I continue to grow more and more pessimistic as time marches on, which I hate. I always play a situation up. I have high expectations and a vision for something and it falls not just some short, but so much short of what I thought it would be that I’m thoroughly disappointed.   I've been struggling a lot with understanding systems and schools of thought.  Questioning every move I make. Trying to see why there would be an option 2 and 3 and 4 in the first place. Weighing all of
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Strong Enough to Bend

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  I told myself I wasn’t going to cry anymore about this, but I may need to just one last time as I write.  It’s very good therapy for me. (Writing… and sometimes crying too I guess.) And though sharing your problems online is often frowned upon and does very little good (if any), if sharing what happened to us “saves” someone I know - or anyone, frankly - or if any positive spin I put on this grows your faith, then at least something good came from all this hassle and heartache. On April 27th, we received a call to our store for a large shingle order.  An out of town roofer from Indy happened to pick up another job while working in Morris.   Surprisingly, this happens about once a month and has for about 3 years, so this would not be an odd call for us.  We took the order, they spoke the lingo of roofing supplies, brands, and like items.  He was kind.  He spoke with a Spanish accent.  He needed a copy of the receipt email to him.  He provided an address for the shingles.  He gave us a
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