This week, I’m taking a break from doing all the writing.
Many of you already know my wife, DJ. If you’ve been part of the Duane Gomer Education family for any length of time, you’ve probably crossed paths with her—or at least heard me mention her over the years. While I spent many years teaching classes, these days I’m focused on writing and developing our courses. Behind the scenes, DJ continues to help keep everything running smoothly.
As real estate professionals, we spend countless hours behind the wheel. Our cars become our mobile offices, our lunchrooms, our conference rooms, and sometimes even a quiet place to gather our thoughts between appointments. And chances are you’ve made a few memories along the way.
I thought you’d enjoy her story.
Our Cars
“Everything in life is somewhere else, and you get there in a car.”
~E. B. White
Being in real estate often finds us in our cars – for better or worse. They are important and necessary to our profession. But how do you feel about your car? Do you consider it a reliable friend or just a means of getting you from one place to another? Are you sentimental about it, keeping it maybe too long, or is it just a short interlude until next
year’s models come out? And where do you stand on naming your car? We’d love to hear from you.
Me? I’m one that keeps their car for a long time, and the thought of naming them never occurred to me until I bought Mrs. Beasley. Here is her story.
While shopping for a new car, our requirements were simple – dependability and safety. We wanted a car worthy of transporting precious cargo – our thirteen-year-old daughter. We found both on our first outing.
There she was in her 4-door sedan sturdiness, her no nonsense solidness. This was a car that took her responsibility and lineage seriously. She was a Mercedes, and she was built to serve and protect. And serve and protect she did – for fourteen years. She was our Mrs. Beasley. Why the name Mrs. Beasley? Because as easily as the car
called to me, so did the name. It was that simple.
She saw us through family vacations, school field trips, violin recitals, and high school competitions. Date nights, play dates, and business trips that spanned the length and width of California. She ferried our daughter from middle school to the door step of college.
She drove us expediently and safely to San Diego for the birth of our grandson – precious new cargo. It was with pride and a renewed sense of dedication and determination she drove, knowing she had been called to serve and protect a second generation.
As our grandson grew, so did Mrs. Beasley’s service. It was with nary a breakdown, rarely a stumble, she made those back and forth trips to San Diego and then to L. A. – chauffeuring our grandson for weekend and summer visits.
But, as with all of us, the passing of the years began to slow Mrs. Beasley down. The occasional aches and pains gave way to longer lapses of repair time. She knew “going the distance” was soon to be compromised. We spared Mrs. Beasley the possibility of that happening. We let her out of her responsibilities gracefully. When asked if she
would like to serve a local church and their staff as an occasional means of transportation, she accepted gracefully. We said goodbye tearfully.
Our precious cargo – grandson and daughter – are all grown up and creating their own memories with their cars. As for me? I’m on my third car since Mrs. Beasley, but she holds a forever reserved parking spot in my heart. I sometimes wonder if the Grande Dame has finally retired – I like to think not.
DJ Gomer 6/24/2026
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