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When we decided to open Gatsby's, it felt like the moment we'd been waiting for—the dream we'd talked about late into the night, planned for with every bit of hope we had, and held so close to our hearts. We'd saved what we could, we'd planned carefully, and we'd been blessed by amazing people in our community who believed in what we were trying to build. Those people—they believed in us. They donated supplies and equipment from their own businesses because they saw something in our dream worth supporting. We were determined to do this right, to prove we could make it happen without asking for help upfront, trusting that somehow we'd figure it out as we went.

But those first three weeks changed everything. Misinformation pulled us in uncertain directions. We made decisions without the clarity we needed. And then life threw us curveballs we couldn't have predicted—medical situations that demanded our full attention and care. It all unraveled so much faster than we could have imagined, and we had to close the doors we'd just opened with such hope and excitement.

What we didn't see coming was what came after. We started with loan debt from the beginning, and we still carry that burden. Our own savings are completely depleted. And those generous people who believed in us enough to stand by us—we're left here trying to figure out how to move forward, how to make things right and repay their faith in us.

I'm reaching out because I've learned something that's taken me time to understand: asking for help isn't failure. It's survival. It's honesty. It's knowing when you need the people around you. Right now, we're working to recover from this and rebuild what we lost, but we can't do it alone. If you've believed in what we were trying to create, or if you simply want to support two people who are trying to find their footing again, we would be deeply, truly grateful for whatever you can give.

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