The beginning to Hope's Ranch. A look back, though the years before year one

Thirty years, or so, before Year one

As ranch's go, this one was like any other. A humble two story, four bedroom home, with a kitchen, den, living room and one and a half bathrooms. The faded paint job was peeling from the old wood walls on the outside of the home. The paint job on the inside was just slightly better. The roof had recently been patched, and the windows were new as well. It was good enough to be a home. In fact, a family lived in it. Like many other families in the country. A father, mother and two children, both boys.

While none of the family really stuck out. In time, one of them would feel out of place. Like he was born in the wrong body. And as he would grow, many people would ignore his complaints that he wasn't a boy, but a girl. No one heard, no one but his brother, who was six years older. And his brother picked on any weakness he could find, like brothers tend to do. It was unseen by the parents. Not because they were bad parents, but that they were both busy people. Both parents held many jobs. They were ranchers, parents, pillars of the community. She was a school nurse, he was a farmer. Both had their hands full and were doing the best they could to give their kids a good life.

The ranch wasn’t special. Not yet at least. In fact it would be nearly two decades before the ranch began to be something special. Three decades until the full potential of the ranch would begin to show. Currently it was like many of the other ranches in the area and across the country. A lot of land, owned by one family. Many crops across the several hundred acres they owned. All land that had been handed down through the family. Many parcels of land were purchased when times were tough and the little family who owned the ranch had the money to expand. Not all of the land was crop worthy. Some was good for animals and some for hunting. Others to just have buildings on. Which was good.

Of course being so busy and having two young kids, the father had to hire help to tend to his fields. So he usually called on migrant workers. But the ranch kept thriving. Not turning a huge profit, but not slipping into a pit of debt and bankruptcy, like many other farmers.

Currently the ranch was just that. A ranch. A place to produce food, to raise children in a simpler way, as opposed to how kids in Reno, just half an hour away, were being raised. Or even kids in San Francisco. Yet, unknown to the man and woman in the house, their children, their ranch, even they themselves, would be instrumental in changing the ranch into something of a symbol. A beacon of hope for lost, hurt souls. A place of healing and love. A place the world would need.

None of them could see the future. Not one. If they could, they may had turned from the path, or took a different approach. But as life has a way of happening, they lived life, one day at a time. Their lives were shaped by the things that happened around them. Watergate. The Vietnam war. In time they would see Presidential assassination attempts and Shuttle explosions would become the big news. But for now, it was a country trying to get back on track.

There would be trials. Many of them, and for all who would be involved. Trials not only legal, but physical and mental. Tears and pain were destined for the future of all four people in the family, but none of them could be aware of it. Not that it mattered. The wheels of fate were already moving. Moving towards a destiny that no one could foresee. Time would march on and each would have a role to fill. One they could easily walk away from. Others would follow the ideal, like many people did. Each of them would fill a role. Protector, healer, explorer, friend, confidant. There of course would be their opponents. Detractors. Haters. As the father's Dad used to say, “Life with no bad wasn’t a life worth living. For one needed the lows to counter the highs. Evil to counter the good. Life was always a struggle. Not just between others, but within one’s own mind and soul. Sometimes, even the noblest of intentions could harm another.” And that speech always stayed with the man, even from his time in the war.

The kid's father often recalled the lessons his father taught him, while tending to the farm when he was a boy. “It is with love and hope that we are nurtured, and grow. We can grow as strong as these crops and help others grow.” And that was the lessons they planted in his children. Of course, Henry, the father, was his father's eldest. His younger siblings were a sister, who now lived in San Francisco, and was part of the dwindling hippy movement, also a lesbian. His brother had died in the war.

The mother also tired to give these lessons to the boys, Larry and Earl. She told her what her mother had always said to her. “Live life to the fullest. Love everyone like you want to be loved. Be there when you are needed. Stand by your word and defend those in need.”

Little did they know that their words would inspire so many, mostly the youngest child. And no one knew of the changes that were in store for their little family, or for other families that would join theirs. For their story was only beginning.

And once again, I am breathing life into this story.