How We Got Here Part 2: Dumas Storage



On a hot day in October we tucked the blacktop conestoga into a stall at Dumas Storage  with the help of our friend, Sean. Immediately we set out to begin the next step, organizing, cleaning and filling up the place, something that had been ignored for literally, years. There were roughly 25 empty units and a 30% delinquency rate when we arrived  Nights were filled with cleaning and more cleaning of the "nice" house trailer outside the front gate, and making preparations for hunting season at Seans 600 acre ranch in Marquez. The days flew by and we really didn't have much time to ask ourselves what the hell we were doing in Houston Texas. The storages occupied a great deal of our time but we also saw our kids, cooked for folks and pretty much settled into a routine of sorts, with the blacktop conestoga peacefully sleeping behind the doors of a dark storage.

 Weekends were spent working or traveling to Marquez and back, and it was a comfortable time for all of us. Sean would show up almost every day and we'd do things around the storages, or just go grab lunch at one of the myriad of restaurants in the area. Life was status quo, things were good.


The freezer was nearing full in December and Christmas preparations were going on. Dumas occupancy was almost one hundred percent and delinquencies had fallen to less than ten percent. During the week disc golf was played, fishing was done and nascent patterns were developed. There were wings at Boondocks on Tuesday nights and trips to Jesses Boots where I'd lust after the rattlesnake skin custom shit kickers.


We were smug in the fact that we were well on the way to the grooviest gig ever. Working with our friend, getting to see a lot of our kids on a regular basis and a place to be able to renovate the trailer?.. Seemed like the pearl in the oyster.

 Sean and I had worked together the morning of December 18th, his dad's birthday. We mended a section of chainlink divider within the storage units and graded the roads outside. About midway through that chore, he shouted out to me from atop the tractor, as I stood in front of the service unit; "Hey I forgot about an appointment for a haircut at 2...wanna finish this?" We traded places and I watched him leave the gate. I finished the work, and returned to the trailer to clean up and wait for Dee who was off working. I was cooking dinner when Sean called and we chatted a few minutes like always. Dee returned and we sat down to our fish tacos when the phone rang.

 It was his girlfriend saying that they had rushed him to the hospital... they didn't think he was going to make it.

 We literally left our dinner sitting, threw on hoodies and left. I don't really recall driving out onto I-45 at nine o'clock at night to head to the hospital where they had taken him. Dee was at the wheel, and we were chatting in nervous disbelief when the phone rang. It was his Mom.

 "Sean died".  

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