Fir's destruction alters life's course

At age 40, Megan Edwards didn't expect her life to come to a halt and change direction.

She and her husband, Mark Sedenquist, had just started a business and Edwards had moved her grandmother's piano into their converted livery stable home in the hills above Pasadena, Calif. But in what seemed like no time at all, everything was gone, leaving the couple standing on the smoking embers of where their house -- and previous life -- once stood.

"You don't expect a fire like that. You also don't expect your house to catch on fire," Edwards said. "It was surreal."

Standing in the aftermath of the Altadena fire storm of 1993, Edwards and Sedenquist could see all the way across Los Angeles to the ocean for the first time.

"That kind of became a motto for the whole thing," Edwards said. "It burned up all my stuff, but it gave us this great view."

At that moment, Edwards knew she wanted to hit the road, even though it took Sedenquist a couple of weeks to warm up to the idea. What they thought would be a six-month trip, turned into six years. In 1994, the Internet was in its infant stage, and people -- even Edwards' editors at two Los Angeles newspapers -- were leery of its capabilities. Once they were convinced, Edwards set out with her husband and dog Marvin to see the United States, write two columns a week and start a Web site about their adventures.

All from the road.

Her book, "Roads from the Ashes: An Odyssey in Real Life on the Virtual Frontier," chronicles the trio's experiences including people they've met and lessons they learned including surviving the devastation of losing all they owned. But to relate to the book doesn't take a fire or a long road trip. Looking at the positive, which is one theme in the book, can come into someone's life at any "cataclysmic juncture," Edwards said.

"It gives them a different way of looking at things," Sedenquist said. "You should see the messages we get from people."

"Some of them make me cry," Edwards added.

Edwards' most important lesson was "home is where your dog is." Although not a physical place for awhile, home was where her dog was comfortable.

After the book was published in 1999, Edwards started on a novel with the main character a native Las Vegan. Not knowing much about the city from a local point of view, Edwards and Sedenquist came to visit, and a year later have made the southeast area home.

When she's not working on her novel, she's editing RoadTripAmerica.com and maintaining the site built on the road with Sedenquist, the site's technology expert. The site contains profiles of people they've met, submissions of funny road signs from across the continent and technology advice and advances that allow being wireless, and in touch on the road, a little easier.

Simplifying their lives began when the fire wiped out all for which they had worked. With the books and Web site, it's easy for Edwards to see where the opportunity was hidden. Staying quiet while listening to her intuition and following what it said was the backbone that eventually led them to Las Vegas.

"I realized when it was all gone, I was free," Edwards said. "It was like it cleaned out my brain as well as my house. I still don't have much stuff."

"We had to reinvent our relationship," Sedenquist added. "Your life becomes so much like stuff."

Now, she satisfies her need to redesign her house with updating the Web site.

"It's good because it all fits on a couple of CDs," Edwards said.

Edwards will be talking about and signing her book "Roads from the Ashes: An Odyssey in Real Life on the Virtual Frontier," Saturday at 11 a.m. at Border's Books and Music, 1445 W. Sunset Road, at Stephanie Street.

Those interested can call 433-6222.