Coming from humble beginnings, I’ve seen miracle after miracle happen, which inspires me to be a source of love and positivity in the world. As a young girl, I’d step onto the school bus and glance back at the muddy, gravel-strewn path leading to the old camper I called “home.” It was parked on my grandpa’s land so we could be near him and my grandma while my parents figured things out. I’d see the glances from other kids—whispers, avoidance, sometimes disgust—worried I’d sit by them, afraid of catching headlice or unsure what to say.
That camper wasn’t meant to be a house, just a temporary shelter hooked to a truck. But for us, it was all we had. My mom barely had a high school education, and focused mostly on trying to keep my dad around. My dad was a functioning alcoholic with carpentry talent he never fully used. When he’d disappear, my sister and I often stayed at my grandparents’ trailer—a modest, clean home filled with love, gardens, and real beds. I wished I could stay there forever.
Looking back, I was a happy kid, even though I now recognize the neglect. I missed weeks of school due to headlice and grew up in a place where strangers came and went, drunkenness was normal, and insults sometimes turned violent.
Then, when I was seven, everything changed. My mom divorced my dad and we moved in with Lew, who became my stepdad. Lew was kind, loving, and the first real example of stability I’d ever known. He’d built his home with his own hands, a concept that blew my mind. That home had a real kitchen, a pantry full of groceries, a furnished living room—and, for the first time, I had my own room.
At school, I wasn’t the poor girl anymore—I became the “Annie” of Fontana, Kansas, thanks to Lew’s reputation as the beloved owner of the local skating rink. Slowly, I began to feel safe, settled, and inspired. Lew’s example taught me what was possible. I saw the pride my mom took in making our new house a home, and I knew I wanted to build a life like his—stable, respected, impactful. But life had more in store. At age nine, my mom was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. I remember visiting her that Christmas—bald, skeletal, barely able to speak. One day, she pulled me close and gently told me she might not be around much longer.
I was terrified. Would I lose not just my mom, but my “home” again? Would I go back to the camper? Would my dad take me in—could he even take care of me?
I turned to God in a way only a child can. I found the hospital chapel, knelt at the front, and begged Him to heal her. I felt a presence, a peace I couldn’t explain. A couple of weeks later, her doctor showed our family a miracle: the cancer was gone. She was in remission.
I told my mom about my prayer. She cried different tears—tears of hope—and began reading the Bible, writing down scriptures. That moment planted in me a deep-rooted faith and a sense of purpose that continues to guide me. Of course, life hasn’t been all “happily ever after.” I lost my older sister in a car accident and later Lew to a heart attack. That loss shook our foundation, and not long after, we lost our home too. I nearly didn’t finish high school, but I earned a full-ride scholarship and worked my way through college—becoming the first woman in my family to graduate.
Along the way, I married my high school sweetheart. Together, we’ve raised a family rooted in faith, love, and hard work. I remember buying our first home—that feeling of pride, safety, and belonging. We’ve since owned and sold multiple properties, building equity and stability we once only dreamed of.
That journey is why I love real estate. It’s not just transactions—it’s about helping people find their own version of “home.” I’ve walked with clients through grief, estate sales, divorce, and first-time ownership. I get it—because I’ve lived it.
Now, both of my children are saving for their first homes. My son, like me, is an entrepreneur and is pursuing his real estate license. My daughter holds a master’s degree. Watching them build lives of stability and purpose is my greatest joy.
Through every hardship and triumph, I’ve seen the power of resilience, faith, and the human need for a place to belong. That’s why I do what I do. That’s why “home” means everything. You can hear more of my story and the lessons I’ve learned on my “LET’S GrOw” podcast—real talk, real life, real faith.
Sincerely,
Nicki Rogers
Senior VP, Executive Broker
Cell (479) 659-2631
Office (479) 636-2200
nrogers@lindsey.com
nickirogers.realestate