PETROGNANO, TUSCANY— Since 2017, over 1,350 people have traveled with me on more than 55 trips to seven European countries and 40 European cities. What started as a single, one-off trip hosting a few people interested in the people and places I had discovered in Tuscany has turned into a second business that occupies almost four months of my year. That’s 14 weeks spent hosting American travelers in Europe—an incredible blessing I never take for granted. It’s work I’m deeply grateful to do.
Whenever I tell my friends I’m going overseas to work, they smirk a little and say things like, “Yeah, sure, it’s work.” Those who’ve traveled with me over here understand it’s steady work—seven days a week, around 80 hours a week.
If you’ve got to work somewhere, this isn’t a bad place to do it.
Enjoying the work was never in question. Turning folks on to the things I’ve discovered in my years of travel abroad is one of the highlights of my year. What I never expected was to make such lasting friendships along the way.
Most of the people who travel with me are “my people.” They come from the South, with Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia making up the lion’s share. But there are always folks from Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, Arkansas, and Texas, too. Every now and then, someone signs up from as far away as New York, Pennsylvania, Washington state, or California.
People fascinate me. Always have. There’s something about learning who they are, where they’re from, and what matters to them that keeps me engaged. Getting to know people was one of the great surprises of this travel gig. But it’s not just about meeting them. It’s about hearing their stories.
That’s how I met Andy Anderson from Rolling Fork, Mississippi. He’s with this current group. We were talking over dinner last night when his story emerged—a testament to resilience, grit, leadership, and unwavering faith in the face of unimaginable hardship.
At 8:04 p.m. on March 24, 2023, Rolling Fork, Mississippi, was devastated by an EF4 tornado that packed winds up to 170 mph. The damage was complete and far-reaching, leaving the community with almost nothing. But Andy, along with four others, started a nonprofit called Rolling Fork Rising to help rebuild their town from the ground up. When a place like Rolling Fork—a town located in one of the poorest counties in the nation—gets knocked down, it’s an uphill climb just to get back to level ground.
Resilience comes in many forms. Building something from nothing—whether it’s a business or a town left in ruins—takes the same stubborn determination to press forward. Andy’s fight for Rolling Fork recalled the lessons I learned while trying to get Extra Table off the ground. Those early days taught me the importance of showing up, even when the road seemed impossible. Like Andy, I’ve had to lean on the kindness, wisdom, and hard work of others to keep moving forward. It’s a reminder that none of us do anything worth doing alone.
But Andy and the folks in Rolling Fork face an even steeper climb. Renters—who make up around 67% of the town—have been left out of most government recovery housing assistance. They had little to no relief, and many of them will never be able to return home. The people who once owned homes are now renting, and those who rented before (the 67%) are left with nothing. It’s an unfair reality for too many people.
Rolling Fork Rising is trying to change that. They aren’t just rebuilding homes—they’re creating pathways for people who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance. Most of the effort is aimed at helping renters who lost everything. And they’re not just handing out houses. Each applicant is assigned a Survivor Advocate or Case Manager who helps guide them through a rigorous qualification process. It’s a model built on accountability, commitment, and opportunity.
Applicants must complete several steps before being offered a home. They go through financial literacy training, homeowner education, and emotional and spiritual care classes. Only after completing these requirements can they be considered for a home. Rolling Fork Rising has already built four homes and plans to have another twelve completed by the end of the summer. The homes are sold at a discounted price with 0% mortgages, paid off over 20 years. It’s a model that others around the country could learn from, especially in rural areas like Rolling Fork.
The night the tornado hit, Andy raced to open doors to relieve the atmospheric pressure before huddling in a tub with his wife and 75-pound dog. The storm tore through just 250 yards away, flattening houses two doors down. His home stood. The devastation all around was beyond words.
But Andy wasn’t focused on what was lost. He couldn’t say enough about the outpouring of help that came in the following days. Farmers showed up from all over the county, chainsaws buzzing and bulldozers clearing roads through the night. They were out there for days, doing what they could to help clear debris and restore some sense of normalcy. It was the same in my hometown after Katrina.
First Baptist Church in Rolling Fork has played a critical role, housing volunteers and hosting prayer services for the community as early as two days after the tornado. To this day, they still have 50 beds filled with volunteers. Andy got emotional while speaking about how the community has come together in ways he never expected.
And it’s not just Rolling Fork. There are people like Andy Anderson all over Mississippi. It’s something I’ve seen time and time again. After Hurricane Katrina, and after the EF4 tornado tore through Hattiesburg years later. In Mississippi, when the chips are down, neighbors and churches step up. When disaster hits, this state responds better than anywhere else I’ve ever seen. No headlines. No fanfare. Just Mississippians breaking out the chainsaws, rolling up their sleeves, and doing what needs to be done.
Andy, a banker by trade, is the kind of person who keeps the lights on long after the rest of us have gone home. He’s out there, every day, working to bring his town back from the edge. Folks like him don’t ask for help lightly. But they deserve it. And if you feel moved by their story, consider helping Rolling Fork Rising. It’s not about giving charity. It’s about joining something worth believing in.
Meeting people like Andy is one of the best parts of this work. It’s never just about sightseeing or fine dining. It’s about the friendships made along the way and the remarkable stories people share when you take the time to listen. People like Andy Anderson remind me of the goodness that exists all around us—the kindness of strangers, the generosity of neighbors, and the resilience of those determined to rebuild against all odds. Every trip I host adds another thread to this fabric of connection and gratitude. I’m blessed to meet people like Andy, and even more blessed to share their stories.
Onward.
To support Rolling Fork Rising and the people fighting to rebuild their community, visit rollingforkrising.org.
