The Story Behind Bradley’s Homestead
In 2018, our world changed forever.
Our only child, Stacey Dale Bradley II, was taken from us—murdered at just 20 years old. There are no words for that kind of loss.
No roadmap for the grief that follows. We didn’t know how we’d survive it. We only knew that we were broken, and that the life we thought we were building had shattered.
Two years into our grief, in the middle of a global pandemic, we found ourselves searching for something—anything—that could hold us together. That’s when Bradley’s Homestead was born. Not as a business. Not as a trend. But as a lifeline.
We joke sometimes that it was “off-grid living” for us. But the truth is, we needed to isolate. We needed to shelter ourselves from the noise of the world. Because the journey we thought we were on was not the journey God had chosen for us. And seven years later, we still visit our son at the graveyard. We never imagined this would be our reality. But it is. And somehow, through the soil and the sweat and the tears, we’ve found life again.
It started with one garden box. Just one. Then came the chickens. The ducks. Two pigs. Some rabbits. And with every seed we planted—wrong season or not—with every box Swoosh built, we began to heal. We didn’t know it at the time, but we were planting more than vegetables. We were planting hope.
When a pepper sprouted, it wasn’t just food—it was new life. A sign that something could still grow in the midst of our pain. We worked for hours in that garden, sometimes in silence, sometimes in tears. And slowly, we realized: this homestead was healing our souls.
Grief can destroy a marriage. We’ve seen it happen. But for us, it did the opposite. It held us. It bonded us. It gave us purpose when everything else felt lost.
We still dream about our son. We always will. But we’ve found peace here. In the soil. In the rhythm of the seasons. In the life we’ve built with our hands.
Bradley’s Homestead isn’t a hobby. It’s not a trend. It’s not a movement we’re following. It’s our life. Our right now. It’s intentional. It’s our motivation. And it’s our future.
We welcome you into our story—not just to witness it, but to feel it. To know that even in the deepest grief, there can be growth. There can be healing. There can be life.
transcribed by Stacey’s aunt Shannon Bradley
Bradley's Homestead 