This was one of our dad’s favorite sayings for us growing up. Our dad had several sayings that I’m sure Leanne and Steve will share in the coming chapters. (Spoiler alert: my favorite was “Don’t major in minors.”) But in many ways, “No guts, no glory” has been an ongoing theme in the lives of the Ford family.
Let me tell you, Steve and Leanne have some major guts. As the oldest of three kids, I had a front-row seat to many of Steve and Leanne’s “adventures,” and naturally, our childhood had a profound impact on the people we are today.
I tend to field a lot of questions about our childhood. As the older sister, I am the one people ask about what Steve and Leanne were like when we were growing up. Did we always get along? Were they always creative? How did they get a show? Steve is so tall! How tall is he? Why does Leanne love white paint so much?
I can tell you that growing up in the suburbs of Pittsburgh in the ’80s and ’90s, we had the blessing of being raised in a loving home where creativity was encouraged, rules were set, and faith was the foundation. In many ways, our parents made us feel that the Ford family was a team. While friends are important, family is everything.
I’m three years older than Steve, and one of my favorite memories of him was playing on our driveway on a blistering hot summer’s day. Steve was around the age of four, and he taught himself to ride a bike without training wheels. A bunch of older neighborhood kids were watching in awe as Steve defied the odds by riding a two-wheel bike at such a young age. Steve was, and still is, in constant motion.
As a kid, Steve was always building and taking apart his toys, playing in the woods, building go-karts, riding his BMX bike, building ramps, climbing trees, and doing what boys did in those days. Steve and I loved pro wrestling’s Hulk Hogan; the movies E.T., Star Wars, and Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure; and watching The Dukes of Hazzard on Friday nights and Pee-wee’s Playhouse on Saturday mornings. We’d play Mario Bros. and Contra for hours on his Nintendo.
I remember being little kids in our church’s kids choir during an annual Christmas performance. I was around ten years old; I was dressed as an angel and was singing my heart out. Steve, age seven, would lie across the risers out of boredom, refusing to sing in the choir. The choir director would get so mad at him, but every Christmas concert it was the same deal. The director finally got smart and made Steve one of the wise men, so he’d make his appearance and then disappear into the wings.
One of my favorite memories about Leanne was when she was born. I was six, and I was beyond thrilled that “we” were expecting a baby. It was like a little-kid dream come true. I distinctly recall insisting that we name the baby Bongo. I have no idea where that came from, but it seemed like a good idea to my six-year-old mind. I remember my parents calling us from the hospital when she was born; we were at our Grandma and Grandpa Williams’s house. When I found out they had named the baby Leanne and not Bongo, I was a bit brokenhearted. But that disappointment quickly melted away and was replaced by pure joy of having a new baby sister.
Steve and I were literally jumping for joy on my grandparents’ screened-in patio that night. We celebrated with fudge sundaes, and it was a night I’ll never forget.
My parents came home from the hospital with Leanne on July 4. I was so happy and felt like the fireworks we saw that night were in celebration of Leanne’s arrival.
Leanne was the shyest kid I ever knew. We’re talking painfully shy. For the first four to five years of her life, she really only talked to my mom. We would have babysitters, and Leanne would cry in the corner to protest my mom leaving. I could try to console or distract her, but it was no use. She was as stubborn as she was shy.
I also remember the time that, at age five or so, she was playing in the basement with a neighborhood friend named Greg, and they came upstairs for a snack and to show off their new “haircuts.” Leanne had given herself and Greg new “bangs,” and wow, it was awful. Leanne’s bangs were so short in patches, and Greg’s hack-styled hair had a similar vibe.
I’m not sure if Greg’s mom ever recovered, but my mom didn’t lose her cool, and I was impressed. Leanne went on to get a mullet haircut, and all in all, I remember being shocked that Leanne would do such a thing—with safety scissors, no less! While she was quiet, Leanne was always a little rebel in her own way.
While I have so many fun memories of us growing up, our favorite shared experience was our yearly summer tradition of going to a family camp called Deer Valley YMCA Family Camp for one week each summer. The camp is nestled in the hills of Pennsylvania, and for our family it was a slice of heaven.
Steve would do a countdown before we’d go to Deer Valley each year. The night before leaving, Steve wouldn’t be able to sleep; he’d be so excited. And it’s no wonder. Deer Valley was awesome. On any given day you could go sailing, fishing, rock climbing, hiking, and horseback riding. The camp had a community feel, with camp counselors and the families who would come year after year. It was a safe place where we could be ourselves.
At Deer Valley, we got messy. We could hike and swim and do tie-dye or throw a clay pot, all in the same day. These types of adventures would require us to get outside and be creative, and they would be messy. Our parents didn’t mind in the slightest. They knew that getting dirty was just good, clean fun. At Deer Valley, we would be silly. We didn’t care the least about being cool. Family camp included singing camp songs, eating together in a dining hall, and all sorts of group activities—and we loved it! Most important, at Deer Valley, we could be together as a family. There was no television, and there were no video games or distractions from the outside world.
Steve, Leanne, and I ended up working as counselors in our teens and early twenties, and we still enjoy going to this day. Deer Valley is a magical place, and it is a big part of who we are and what we love.
Cut ahead to the past five years, and life certainly got more interesting when Steve and Leanne started to collaborate on restoration projects in our hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Leanne had a lived-in style that was fresh and inspiring and breathed new life into the most dismal of spaces. Steve had the ability, skill, and grit to turn Leanne’s grand vision into a reality (no small feat). I knew they were onto something special.
I wasn’t totally surprised when Leanne told me that she was having discussions with a production company about a possible HGTV collaboration. Leanne was always meeting interesting people and doing interesting things in her career and as a part of her artistic pursuits. She had a knack for connecting with people, and people seemed to be drawn to her.
What surprised me was that Steve was part of the pitch. Don’t get me wrong; Steve is awesome, and he is beyond talented—but he is a man of few words. I called Steve and said something along the lines of, “You know you need to talk, a lot, if you’re interested in doing this, right?” But he was game and intrigued about the opportunity. Steve was always fearless as a river guide or skiing on the slopes, but this business of doing a brother/sister show for a major network was certainly blazing a new trail.
When I look back, it seemed as if it took years for Restored by the Fords to become a reality. Steve and Leanne had interviews and conference calls and did “sizzle reels,” whatever that is, to see how they would come across on camera. I didn’t tell anyone what was going on until the Restored by the Fords pilot episode aired in December 2016. I knew the odds of a show coming to fruition would be one in a million, but I believed in Leanne’s innovative vision and Steve’s creative contracting.
The first episode of season 1 aired on a bitterly cold Tuesday night in January 2018. Family, friends, workers, and clients from the season gathered in a former gymnasium at the Ace Hotel in Pittsburgh. The show was projected on the wall, and we watched with nervous anticipation—laughing together at Leanne and Steve’s on-air antics, joking with each other during the commercial breaks, and applauding during the big reveal at the end.
Happiness swept over me that night. The home they restored on the show looked amazing, and the client seemed thrilled. I expected that. But what really got me was the show captured Steve and Leanne—not just their work, but their personalities, their demeanor, and their authentic selves. Pittsburghers are as real as they come, and to me, that was the mark of success.
Steve and Leanne’s journey hasn’t been easy, expected, or typical. But they are the hardest-working people I know. They have inspired me in so many ways. While their story is still unfolding, they have the guts, talent, and bravery to follow their own paths. The glory, for them, is the ability to do what they love, and love what they do.
Michelle Ford Faist
Written at Deer Valley YMCA Family Camp
July 3, 2018