One man’s journey through military service, 25 years on the road, and a dream rooted in faith and old-fashioned values.
BY CASEY DUBLER | FOUNDER, LIVING HOLLY RANCH & NURSERY | HANCEVILLE, ALABAMA
Forty Years and a Million Memories
On October 17, 1986, a young soldier stood in the back row of a platoon photograph at Fort Jackson, South Carolina.
That young soldier was me, second from the left.
I had no idea where life would take me. I certainly never imagined that 40 years later, I’d be trying to build a plant nursery in a little Alabama town.
But life has a way of taking you down roads you never expected.
And believe me, I’ve traveled a few.
A Young Man Looking for Direction
I quit high school during my junior year in 1984. Thankfully, my dad convinced me to get my GED. After that, I spent some time doing what young fellows do when they haven’t quite figured life out.
Eventually, I wound up in Austin, Texas, helping a fellow build a barn. We never did finish that barn, but something more important happened.
During the day, we worked. At night, he tutored me so I could qualify for the Army.
I passed.
I started in the National Guard and later transferred to the regular Army. I trained as a mechanic, eventually becoming a 63H tracked-vehicle repairer.
My military journey took me to Germany and later Fort Polk, Louisiana.
The Army taught me discipline, responsibility, and the importance of doing your job even when nobody’s standing over your shoulder.
But eventually, the Army and I parted ways. I received an honorable discharge and began trying to figure out civilian life.
That wasn’t nearly as easy as I expected.
Twenty-Five Years Behind the Wheel
After working as a mechanic and spending time at a lumber mill in Bend, Oregon, I saw changes coming that made me concerned about my future.
I wasn’t interested in waiting around for the ship to sink. So I made another career change.
I went to work for C.R. England and became a truck driver.
That was nearly 26 years ago.
I’ve traveled more highways than I care to count, watched the sun come up over mountains and deserts, and spent more nights away from home than I ever imagined.
I’ve also made mistakes, experienced heartbreak, and learned some lessons the hard way. I’m not going to pretend I’ve lived a perfect life. Far from it.
But through everything, there were two people whose lessons never completely left me.
My MawMaw and Pawpaw.
The Two People Who Helped Raise Me
Growing up in a Marine Corps family, we moved around. During the summers, my brothers and I often stayed with relatives.
I was fortunate enough to spend many of those summers with MawMaw and Pawpaw in North Carolina.
My grandfather was a World War II veteran who had been wounded during the war. His injuries affected his health for the rest of his life.
Pawpaw wasn’t a man of many words. But when he spoke, you listened.
Remember those old E.F. Hutton commercials? Well, that was Pawpaw.
MawMaw was something else entirely.
She worked hard, helped support the family, cooked better than anybody I’ve ever known, and somehow still found time for her garden.
And what a garden it was!
MawMaw’s Garden – Where the Real Lessons Began
I learned early that if MawMaw asked whether you wanted something, you’d better think before answering. She might ask, “Would you boys like some blueberry pancakes?”
Naturally, we’d say yes.
Next thing you knew, she’d hand you a bucket and tell you where the blueberries were.
Want peas for supper?
Wonderful!
You’d be sitting on the back porch shelling peas.
There was always work to do around MawMaw’s house. Picking vegetables, pulling weeds, helping with the garden.
And for some reason, I never really minded.
Looking back, I know why.
| She never asked us to do anything she wasn’t willing to do herself. |
She also had a way with cooking that I’ve never seen anybody match.
I once watched her make biscuits without measuring a thing. When I asked how she knew how much of everything to use, she explained that it came from years of doing it.
A pinch of this. A dab of that. Her recipes were all in her head.
When she passed away, family members searched her house looking for those recipes. They never found them.
I’ve spent years trying to find orange balls like the ones MawMaw made. I’ve found some that were close.
But they weren’t hers.
The Greatest Lesson MawMaw Ever Taught Me
MawMaw was a Christian woman, and she didn’t just talk about her faith.
She lived it.
She read Christmas stories to us on Christmas Eve. She taught me about Jesus. Hers was the first Bible I ever read.
She also knew how to make Christmas special without spending a fortune.
Handmade ornaments, a real Christmas tree, new pajamas on Christmas Eve, and presents handed out one at a time so everybody could share in everybody else’s happiness.
Those memories have stayed with me my entire life.
Years later, I asked my mother something that had been on my mind.
How had MawMaw managed to instill such strong morals and values in me?
My mother’s answer was simple.
| “She lived it.” |
Three little words.
And they explained everything.
MawMaw didn’t have to give lectures about honesty, integrity, faith, or treating people right. She showed us.
Every single day.
And Now, a Nursery in Alabama
After all these years on the road, I’ve reached a point in life where I want to build something of my own. Something that means more than just earning a paycheck.
That’s how Living Holly Ranch & Nursery came into being.
We’re starting small, with an online store, gardening supplies, plants, and a dream of opening a real hometown nursery in Hanceville, Alabama.
I want Living Holly to be the kind of place where people feel welcome. Where somebody can ask a question without feeling foolish.
Where older gardeners can find products that make gardening easier, and younger folks can discover the joy of growing something with their own two hands.
I want to bring back a little of the old-fashioned wisdom I learned growing up. Not because everything was better in the old days. It wasn’t.
Sometimes new ideas are better.
But honesty, hard work, kindness, and keeping your word never go out of style.
Integrity: The Heart of Living Holly
I’ve always believed something Pawpaw would have understood:
| “A man is only as good as his word.” |
That’s what I want Living Holly to stand for. We’re a small business, and we’re still learning. We won’t always get everything right.
But when we make a mistake, I want us to own it, make it right when we can, and learn from it.
I don’t want customers buying from Living Holly because we have the fanciest website or the biggest advertising budget.
I want them buying from us because they trust us. Because they know we’re trying to do things the right way. Even when nobody’s watching.
A Dream Worth Building
I wish MawMaw and Pawpaw were still here to see what I’m trying to do.
I’d love to walk MawMaw through our nursery someday, showing her the hollies, azaleas, tomatoes, and garden vegetables.
I can almost hear her telling me what I’m doing wrong.
And knowing her, she’d probably hand me a bucket and put me to work. I don’t know how big Living Holly will become.
We’re facing challenges, and building a business from the ground up isn’t easy, especially at this stage of life.
But I’m going to give it everything I reasonably can.
And whether Living Holly becomes a thriving nursery or remains a small dream, I believe MawMaw would still be proud of me.
Because that’s the kind of woman she was.
She loved you whether you succeeded or failed. Maybe that’s the greatest lesson of all.
Forty years ago, I was a young soldier looking toward an uncertain future. Today, I’m an old truck driver looking toward a different one.
And somewhere between those two chapters, I realized that some of the most important lessons I ever learned came from pulling weeds in MawMaw’s garden.
That’s why we’re building Living Holly Ranch & Nursery.
Not just to sell plants.
But to grow something worth passing on.
Living Holly Ranch & Nursery
Rooted in Faith • John 3:16