Let me tell you a story—part miracle, part fairy tale.

Long ago, in the late 1800s, a family in East Texas named Bruce raised eight children with hearts as big as the land they called home. Two of those children, Mamie Ross and Victor Bruce, grew up, started families of their own, and passed down a legacy of kindness, laughter, and love.

Their children—Victor’s daughter, Carole Sue, and Mamie’s daughter, Linda Ross—were cousins who spent their childhoods playing and making memories, even though they lived nearly ten hours apart. As life does, the years moved on, and each of them had daughters—Anne and Sherri. They, too, knew of each other but grew up in separate worlds, connected only by family stories.

But when they were little girls, before time and distance took them in different directions, Anne and Sherri played together beneath the warm Texas sun. Summers were filled with barefoot adventures, laughter echoing through the tall pine trees, and the sweet scent of ripe blackberries. They picked them by the handful, their fingers stained purple, their giggles carried on the breeze. And after long days of gathering, they’d return home to enjoy warm, homemade blackberry cobbler—a taste of childhood, family, and simple joys.

Then, as if written by fate, Anne and Sherri each had daughters of their own—Caroline and Lindsay. Unbeknownst to them, the thread of family history was quietly weaving its way back together. At Baylor University, these two young women met, became fast friends, and unknowingly rekindled a bond that had been waiting to be rediscovered.

And then—the moment of magic.

At a sorority event at Baylor University, in a room full of hundreds of singing and chanting college girls, Sherri and Anne found themselves standing side by side. They exchanged polite greetings, then familiar names surfaced, stories unfolded, and suddenly, the past and present collided in the most beautiful way. The puzzle pieces fit perfectly—Caroline and Lindsay weren’t just friends; they were family. And so were Anne and Sherri, who had last seen each other as little girls.

In that moment, it felt like their ancestors were smiling down from heaven, some might even wonder if they orchestrated the entire thing. Their hearts had to be full, as the family story continued. What was once distant became close again. A friendship was rekindled, a family was restored, and a new tradition was born.

Fast Forward to today ….. Anne and Jason and Sherri and Mike enjoy spending time at the Beach House and love sharing it with others. They enjoy sharing it with their kids and telling the stories of family from so long ago.

And so, in honor of sweet summer days, of the laughter, the memories, and the bond that time could never break, a name for the beach house was chosen: Bruce Berry Bungalow—a place where family gathers, where stories live on, and where love, legacy, and a little bit of fate continue to unfold. We hope you’ll stop by and say hello, stay a while, enjoy some sweet tea and of course, blackberry cobbler.