Impending poverty. That’s what I jokingly say when folks ask why I moved to Prescott. There’s a lot more to it, though. Some call it serendipity, some say it’s the hand of God at work in my life, some think there should be twilight zone music playing as the story is told. I’ll let you decide which it is.

Sourdough is a uniquely Alaskan term. Most people think it refers to a grizzled old prospector, holed up for the winter in a tiny wilderness cabin. It really means someone who is sour on Alaska but doesn’t have enough dough to leave.

My wife, Cathleen and I spent 15 years up there. Not together, but 15 years apiece. We were just waiting to meet each other, although, we didn’t know that at the time.

Cathleen was a bank manager and I had a successful real estate business, selling properties, owning rentals and such. Cathleen would close loans for me at her bank, and I fell in love with her great smile. I asked her out for 3 years and the answer was always, “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that”. Harumpf! It was during that 3 years in the early 1980s that the oil industry collapsed and with Alaska being an oil based economy, I lost about $1 million as Alaska slipped into a depression. When Cathleen finally said yes it was my first ray of sunshine in a long Alaskan winter.

Read and blog about your own Prescott living experiences here!

A few months later we decided to move and cruise off into the sunset as a result of a short conversation about other places we liked. Now, you have to understand how unusual this decision was. I had a business with several hundred clients, properties I owned, and obligations to fulfill in statewide leadership positions in 3 organizations. I never dreamed of moving from Alaska! I loved it there! Whitewater rafting, fishing most men can only dream about, midnight sun. But in an instant, a decision had been made to leave Alaska and all those things that seemed so important. Then I realized that all those clients had not afforded me a living the past couple of years, the banks wanted the few properties I still owned more than I did, and I really resented having to go to some organization’s meetings virtually every workday. The change sure felt right.

To be sure, we had a few obstacles to overcome before moving. Cathleen owned an over-mortgaged mobile home at a time when they were boarding up trailers and hauling them to storage yards because they couldn’t be sold. We had no real plan about how to move or where to go. And being true sourdoughs, we had no money. Details, details, details.

But in a matter of a few weeks, we sold Cathleen’s mobile home, I sold an apartment building and we were able to buy a good used motorhome for no money down. Things were falling into place so fast I could scarcely believe it.

Cathleen and I spent 6 months on the road, full-timing it in the motor home. We traveled through Canada, Montana, over to Seattle and California before finally discovering Prescott. It was the first place in 13,000 miles that had felt homey at all. The only negative thing we heard was that good jobs were hard to find in Prescott. We went on to explore Sedona, Flagstaff, Albequerque, Santa Fe and Taos before we decided to turn around and take a second look at Prescott.

We arrived back in Prescott on a Saturday night. For some reason I blurted out “Hey, let’s go check out that little Unity church we saw”, which was really out of character for me, because I had never been churchy at all up to that point in my life. But to church we went, since it was all part of the great adventure we were on.

About 12 hours after arriving back in Prescott, at church, I was offered a job as a municipal bond broker by a man I met there. Let me see, the town has an idyllic setting, great character, wonderful weather, and the only negative on our list was just eliminated. Hmmm. Maybe we should get serious about Prescott. On December 21, 1986, we became Prescottonians.

At our second time back to church, we turned around after the service to greet the folks behind us. Imagine my surprise when, sitting behind us was Ramona, a friend from Alaska! A year before, Ramona had closed her health food store, moved to Hawaii, gotten married, and moved to Paulden the same week we moved to Prescott. Small world, huh? Well, it gets smaller. Keep reading.

After reuniting with Ramona, neither of us felt compelled to continue on at the little church. The energy just wasn’t there any more so we drifted away.

Ramona, was also a minister, and Cathleen and I, after a year of “traveling in sin” were planning a wedding, so, we asked Ramona to perform the service a few months down the road.

In the mean time, the minister at the little church we visited quit with no notice, and a church board member who knew me, and knew I had a minister friend, called to see if I could arrange some help for the church. I gave her Ramona’s phone number, and when the board member called, Ramona said, “I’m not a Unity minister, but there’s one here visiting me. Would you like to speak to her?” And she proceeded to hand the phone to Rachel Hepburn. (Cue the Twilight Zone music)

Rachel had just graduated from the Unity School of Christianity two months earlier and was taking the summer off, traveling and relaxing before looking for ministerial work. Until that point, I had been the only Hepburn for hundreds of miles around, and now there happens to be a Hepburn here visiting, who just happens to be a Unity minister, and just happened to have been introduced to Ramona that day by a mutual friend when the momentous phone call came in. When I later realized what had transpired, I got goose bumps.

Rachel agreed to speak at Sunday Services for a few weeks while the church regrouped.

But there is more to the story. The week before the wedding, our friend Ramona got stranded 1,000 miles away when her car engine died. She called and told us she could not make our wedding, and we needed to find another minister. During the intervening months, Rachel Hepburn had been offered the permanent minister’s job and was slated to speak on her first official Sunday as minister, so we went back to church to hear her talk. We were so impressed with this powerful woman, that in the reception line after the service, I said “Hi, I’m Will Hepburn. Will you marry me?” After Rachel’s initial shock wore off, I pointed to Cathleen and added “to this girl over here?” So Rachel’s first official ceremony was to marry Cathleen and me the next week.

Over the next two and a half years, Rachel proceeded to get us involved in the church, Cathleen doing music, and me on the church board. In the process, we became known quantities around the place when a member really changed our lives by telling us, “My daughter is about to have a baby and is not in a position to keep it. Would you two like to have a baby?” Now, Cathleen and I were 42 and neither of us had ever had any children, so this was more than a casual decision. We said we’d think about it.

The previous October, some friends from Alaska had come to visit us with their adopted baby girl and were encouraging us to get one ourselves. That weekend was the most time I had ever spent holding and caring for a baby in my entire life. Something inside me said, “I’m ready. I can do this.” But being 42 and jealous of our time, we didn’t do anything about it. But, when we realized that the baby we were being offered was conceived the same weekend our friends were here, we sort of looked up to heaven and said “Ok! Ok! We get the message!”

Rachel resigned about this time to care for a dying brother, but not before she christened our son, Matthew, in her last official ceremony in Prescott. We had no idea when we chose the name that Matthew meant “gift from God”. We thought that was nice touch when we found out.

Are all these happenings serendipity, or the hand of God at work in my life. I say “Yes” to both…

I could have stayed in Alaska, and hung on by my fingernails to things and circumstances that weren’t meant to be. But Alaska had stopped being fun, and lacked the good feelings I have here. I could have stayed, but if I had, I wouldn’t have the wonderful business I have now, or my family, or the clear understanding of how things can work in my life if I just open my eyes to the possibilities.

Why did I move to Prescott? Because I was supposed to!

And every morning, I wake up thinking “OK, I’m ready. What’s next?” So, I know I’m still in the right spot.