The Story Behind the Story
I was the youngest of two children, born to Edythe and Bill Frady. Just two months after my birth, World War II began. Yet, in my hometown of Fort Worth, Texas, I remained blissfully unaware of the world-changing events unfolding beyond my small world.
Heaven on Earth
In the fifth grade, our family moved to Midland, Texas. However, my senior year in high school brought a transformative experience when we relocated to Boulder, Colorado. For me, 1959 was nothing short of heaven on earth. Snowfalls, mountain cookouts with friends, tranquil afternoons by rushing streams—these moments were filled with beauty, cool weather, and camaraderie. Life in Boulder made my heart dance with joy.
Sunsets and Dreams
That magical senior year, followed by a summer in Hawaii, marked the beginning of my journey into adulthood. I initially attended Abilene Christian College (now ACU) but transferred to Pepperdine University in California during my freshman year. At Pepperdine, I became a cheerleader and soon met Gary Lashley, a football star from Muskogee, Oklahoma. After my sophomore year we were married.
Joy and Sorrow
Life felt perfect. We had a son, Shane, and a daughter, Shelly. Everything seemed to align with my dreams—until tragedy struck. At just three years old, Shelly died suddenly from a brain tumor. The heartbreak was indescribable. Two miscarriages followed before we were blessed with another little girl. For a time, life seemed good again, but the loss of Shelly left an unhealed wound that divided Gary and me instead of bringing us closer. After much soul-searching, we made the painful decision to divorce, believing it was the best path for our family.
Along Came A Storm
Being a single mother was never part of my fairy tale, but two years later, I met a distinguished widower who was active in my church. We married, and life seemed back on track—until I became gravely ill. For months, doctors couldn’t determine the cause. Finally, the Dallas Cowboys’ team doctor referred me to the Environmental Health Center in Dallas, a place renowned for treating people with severe sensitivities. I was shocked to find myself among patients who looked frail and weak. Surely, I didn’t belong there—until my test results came back. I was diagnosed with severe chemical sensitivities, and the prognosis was grim.
A Place to Rest
At 42, my fight for survival began. I had to administer 19 injections a day, and our home was stripped of carpets, fabrics, and upholstery to create a safe environment. It was an arduous journey, but through God’s grace, I survived. My husband and I enjoyed many years together, but the allergies persisted. After years of caregiving for him, my immune system faltered again following his passing. As a widow, I was advised by my doctor to seek clean air to survive. “You must leave Texas,” he said. That’s when a high school friend told me about Whidbey Island, Washington. I thought a few months there would restore my health, allowing me to return to Texas. But months turned into years. The clean air helped me recover, yet after two years on the island, I craved a change. I returned to Boulder, Colorado, the place that had captured my heart years earlier during high school.
Coming Back Home
Boulder brought unexpected gifts. I reconnected with former classmates and enrolled in a Creative Writing course taught by Dr. Lee, a professor at the University of Colorado. One day, he pulled me aside and asked about my writing background. Embarrassed, I admitted it was limited to thank-you notes and letters to a childhood friend. He smiled knowingly and said, “You have a book inside you.” Three years later, I was finally able to return to Texas. Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic struck soon after, forcing me into two years of isolation due to my compromised immune system. During this time, Dr. Lee’s words echoed in my mind, inspiring me to write The Other Part of Her.