A motorhome carries special memories for three generations of an RVing family.
By John Johnston, Associate Editor
October 2020
Merriam-Webster defines an RV as “a vehicle designed for recreational use, as in camping.” There’s more to it than that, of course, as Linda Brady, F259876; her daughter and son-in-law, Alora and Ryan Fisher, F259876D; and their children Cate, 15, and Spence, 13, can attest.
They know well what an RV is, what it does, and how important it can be. They’ll tell you that it nourishes relationships and cements family bonds; that it opens up a world of adventures and outdoor experiences. And they’ll tell you that while an RV can harbor painful reminders of loss, it also can carry happy, heartfelt memories of a loved one.
Spencer and Linda Brady in Alaska.
Such is the case with a certain 2003 Monaco Windsor motorhome. The 40-foot coach once belonged to Linda and her husband, Spencer Brady.
Spencer grew up in a family that loved to camp. The Bradys started with a homemade rig and then bought a small Shasta travel trailer, which they towed behind a station wagon. In the mid-1950s, Spencer, his two siblings, their parents, and their dog took the Shasta on a cross-country trip to California.
When Linda and Spencer began dating, the Bradys invited her to accompany them on camping trips. By then, they were on their second Airstream travel trailer. But it was not until Linda and Spencer had married and their only child, Alora, was in college that Spencer and Linda bought their first RV, a 1999 Monaco Diplomat motorhome.
Starting from their Alabama home, they loved heading west to visit national parks. “Sometimes we wouldn’t even make plans,” Linda said. “We’d know the general direction we wanted to go. (Spencer) enjoyed the adventure of the trip – the unknown, what we would find that we weren’t expecting.”
The motorhome named Windward at a campsite.
When Alora decided in 2003 to pursue a law degree, her parents told her they had the money set aside. “She said, ‘I won’t need it; I’ve got it covered,’” Linda recalled. “And we said, ‘Oh, new motorhome!’”
That’s when Spencer and Linda bought the RV of their dreams, the 2003 Monaco Windsor. They customized the interior in nautical decor and nicknamed the coach Windward. When the couple retired in 2009, they built a home in Maplesville, Alabama, to house them and the motorhome. That place also has a nickname: Barndarosa.
For years, Spencer and Linda took Windward on the road every spring and fall. They dreamed that Alora and her family someday would experience similar RV adventures.
In spring 2017, Spencer and Linda invited Cate and Spence to accompany them to the Grand Canyon. Alora also came, but Ryan was unable to get away. The nine-day, 10-state adventure “was one of those trips that was magical and beautiful,” Alora said.
Two days into the journey, Ryan texted that he had bought a 40-foot travel trailer. That was a surprise, but not a shock, as the Fishers previously had been RV shopping. The news thrilled everyone, because it meant the Fishers and Bradys would be able to go camping together. As a nod to Windward, the travel trailer was nicknamed Second Wind. “We were at the point where everything was kind of clicking,” Alora said.
Then came heartbreak. Spencer was diagnosed with an aggressive form of bladder cancer. He was 71 when he died in March 2018, a year after the Grand Canyon trip.
Alora Fisher and her children, Cate and Spence.
Linda and Spencer had been married 50 years. Every time she looked out her kitchen window, she saw Windward and was reminded of the life she and Spencer once enjoyed.
Cate and Spence also grieved. The grandfather they called Pop had taught Cate how to fish with a cane pole and how to make s’mores. He had passed his football knowledge on to Spence, who played the game knowing Pop was his biggest fan.
In the months following Spencer’s death, Alora, Ryan, and the kids camped several times in their travel trailer. Returning home from a trip, they were rear-ended by a careless driver. No one was injured, but the RV was totaled.
“We still say that Dad did it deliberately from heaven,” Alora said. “That was his solution to the problem.” The problem of what to do with Windward.
Linda felt the motorhome was too big of a responsibility to handle alone. Alora did not want it to go to someone else. “That would have been like losing Dad all over again,” she said. “We weren’t ready to say good-bye to that huge aspect of his life.”
Cate and Spence adored their grandfather, Spencer.
So, soon after the travel trailer’s demise, Linda called Alora and suggested the Fishers become Windward’s owners.
“Inheriting her was not an option for us,” said Alora, who describes herself as “vastly independent.” Instead, she and Ryan agreed to buy the motorhome.
Taking ownership of her father’s prized possession was emotionally draining for Alora. “I told Mom, for a while, ‘I just don’t think I can do it.’ Because I was still grieving the loss of my father. Still am. And Mom kept saying, ‘Redo it. Make her yours.’”
That wasn’t easy. Everywhere in Windward were reminders of her father’s meticulous and organized nature, from a laminated list of amperage draws to spare parts he had tucked away. On the walls were black-and-white photos from her parents’ adventures. In cabinets were potholders from places they’d visited.
“It went from a point where it was very difficult to take her over, to a point where it was very comforting for me,” Alora said. “I still open a medicine cabinet, and in the corner are little things Dad had in there that I didn’t have the heart to throw away.”
Ryan Fisher with Cadence, the family’s Braque Francais.
The Fishers live in Prattville, Alabama, which is just 36 miles from the Barndarosa. They keep Windward there, parked next to a 16-foot Airstream Sport travel trailer that Linda bought last year. Mother and daughter enjoy planning family camping trips and menus together.
Alora said the time will come, maybe when Cate and Spence are in college, when she and Ryan will be ready for a new RV. Until then, there is no better vehicle to satisfy their wanderlust than Windward.
“There hasn’t been one single trip in her that I haven’t cried,” Alora said. “But they’re a different type of tears now. They’re good memories.”