“I was born and raised in Mobile, except for a brief detour in East Africa. My parents helped an orphanage in Uganda; we moved there for a few years. Our family befriended an older teenage girl who started another orphanage in Uganda to help young children. We returned to Mobile, and I recruited and guided mission teams to help get the orphanage off the ground. I tried college a couple of times. Nothing felt right. I loved baking for my family and got a job at the Atlanta Bread Company. For 12 years, I baked bread at night after the store closed.

One night, I flipped the switch to start the ovens and moved a box–I didn’t see the cutting board hit the ground. I stepped on the board and fell. Suddenly, I was on the floor and alone in the bakery with a broken leg. I crawled to my phone to call for help. My leg was fractured in two places and broken under my knee. Surgeons inserted a plate and seven screws, predicting my recovery would take two or three months. But repairing my knee became a three-year journey.

My knee refused to seal and heal; the surgeons put my case in their education file. After a fifth surgery, I finally had a functioning leg. Towards the end of the last surgery, I woke up and couldn’t see out of my right eye. The doctors were uncertain what blurred my vision, but I had eight eye surgeries over the next year and a half to fix it.

My tattoos became a part of my story. Before I broke my leg, I got Mother Teresa on my arm because she was a real woman helping and loving people every day. During my leg and eye problems, I sat in many waiting rooms with older people—my tattoo was an icebreaker. One man told me to cover it up because Mother Teresa was staring at him, reminding him about things he needed to confess. Another asked if he could touch my tattoo for good luck. It was a little laughter and connection during anxious times.
I got used to things going wrong. During that time, lightning struck the roof of our house and my room caught on fire. I was safe but tired of God giving me chances to be strong.

Life can change overnight. There was no time to heal and process the trauma of loss: I am doing that now. Knowing something else can go wrong is always in the back of my mind. I still worry about what’s next.

I have permanent vision loss, but I can walk and see okay most days. I started new routines with hobbies that bring me joy: playing music and baking. One weekend, I baked bread for friends and family. That went so well that I baked bread and chocolate chip cookies the next weekend. People told me that I should start a bakery. I didn’t want to start a business, but I needed to eat and pay my growing pile of medical bills. Baking became a rewarding, creative outlet that provided the social contact I missed when I was stuck in the house.

My second tattoo is the skyline of Mobile. It’s based on the Bible verse, Jeremiah 29:7 that says, ‘seek the good of your city. If it prospers, you will prosper’. When we seek the good of those around us, we rise together.

Mobile is a supportive community of artists, musicians, and the service industry. The Blind Mule made room for me and helped me feel safe when I couldn’t see. I worked at Serda’s Coffee part-time before I broke my leg, and my co-workers were my first bakery customers and got me started making king cakes.

Atlanta Bread Company had some of the best king cakes in town; I learned a lot from making thousands of them. The owners retired in 2021 and closed the restaurant, leaving a gap in the king cake market and a chance to try out my bakery. I worked out my own recipe with trial and error. I sold 850 king cakes this year–mostly to people I didn’t know. I worked non-stop in my kitchen, but it was fun to be involved in Mardi Gras in a different way. I want to put Mobile on the map for must-have king cakes, and I am the first baker to make one with a Mobile theme.

I named the bakery Bread by Beck Bakeshop and Carbs Distributor. My motto is, ‘Let me be your carb dealer.’ I deliver boxes of cookies downtown and meet friends at back doors, alleys or parking lots, exchanging cookies for cash. It’s dealing carbs.

I found my purpose and created a business around what I can do. I am still learning what is possible and what my body can handle. I can’t let the past and the fear of ‘what if’ keep me from moving forward. Planning ahead is still hard, but I’m getting more comfortable being unsure. I’m pushing myself to dream. Maybe things won’t go according to that dream, but that’s okay. I will figure it out.”

Beck

Here’s the link to her website:

(I met Beck right after Mardi Gras last year. I didn’t get to try her King Cake when we were working on her story. But I got one as soon as possible this year–it was so good that I had to share her story again.)