The willow tree is still there.
Michele Hornsby will show it to you if you ask. She doesn't make you ask twice. The spot where they found Justin is shaded now, and the branches hang the way willow branches do — like they're listening for something they've already heard.
Justin Hornsby was twenty-six years old when he died by suicide on March 21, 2017, on the same thirty-eight acres where his parents still live, on Lenlock Lane in Anniston. His last words to Michele: I'm going to take a walk. I love you.
What They Did With the Land
Before that, they'd spent more than a decade trying to bring him back from whatever had its hands on him. Drug addiction. Trips across state lines. He came home. Detoxed. Was doing well for a time. Then he wasn't.
After Justin died, Ray Hornsby told Michele they ought to get some goats. Clear the back land. Give her something to do with her hands. She agreed.
It was 2020. COVID. She found seven pygmy goats on a farm she described, without hesitation, as "a dump." She got them anyway. Then more animals. Then they drove all the way to Oklahoma to buy a llama.
The llama was already named Justine.
The llama was already named Justine. Some things don't need to be argued. They need to be received.
Michele took that as a sign. Justine arrived pregnant. She delivered her foal near Justin's memorial, on International Bereaved Mothers Day. Michele named the foal Willow. The farm took its name from the journey — Redbird, for grief and the long way through it, and Willow, for the first creature born there.

What It Is Now
Redbird Willow Farm is a USDA-licensed 501(c)(3) nonprofit at 1103 Lenlock Lane in Anniston. More than 120 animals across 38 acres: llamas, alpacas, miniature horses, Valais Blacknose sheep, Scottish Highland cattle, emus, peacocks, pygmy goats, Nigerian Dwarf goats, rabbits, miniature donkeys, hedgehogs, a tortoise, a capybara, kangaroos. Michele keeps six rescue cats in honor of Justin, who loved cats. There is a joey named Kevin, bottle-fed, living in Michele's house — named after another grieving mother's son who also died. There is a raccoon named Jeffrey, born with short spine syndrome, who lives there too.
Justine the llama arrived pregnant from Oklahoma. She gave birth near the spot where Justin was found, on International Bereaved Mothers Day. This past spring, another foal arrived on May 4th — still finding its name.
She left her career in sales to run the farm full time. School groups come. Homeschoolers. Veterans. Addiction recovery programs. Nursing homes. Llamapalooza — their annual spring event — draws hundreds of people. The Calhoun County Commission honored them. CNN drove down and filmed it.
Ray erected a thirty-foot cross at the highest point on the property. It's visible from the road.

Every third Thursday, a group of ten to twelve bereaved parents meets at the farm. Not a program. Not a curriculum. Just parents who have lost a child, gathering in a place that was built from exactly that loss.
None of the programs are why the farm exists.
The farm exists because Ray and Michele chose not to leave the land where their son died. Everything else follows from that one decision.
The Stolen Alpaca
In March 2026, a three-year-old male Suri alpaca named Chappy was stolen from the farm.
The story made regional news. Michele said: "This isn't just a loss for us — it's a loss for the community. These animals are part of how we help people hold on, especially in their hardest moments."
Chappy was not livestock. He was somebody's reason to come back the following week.
What It Does
The animals at Redbird Willow will let you get close. That's the thing that surprises people. There is something in being allowed near a creature that doesn't know your name or your year or what you lost.
Carrie Sexton came to the farm after her son died by suicide. She keeps coming back. She put it simply: It's amazing how an emu can help you have a much better day.
It's amazing how an emu can help you have a much better day. — Carrie Sexton
Ray Hornsby said it this way: Our animals have caught millions of our tears and consoled us on our darkest days.
Michele has said: "We've always embraced the fact that you should run towards the things that are most frightening to be able to manage them and cope with them." And: "There is a way to feel better after such a devastating loss. It's not going to be a farm for everybody, but everybody has something that will bring them back."
The farm does not claim to cure anything. It claims to give you one afternoon where the weight lifts enough to breathe.
Redbird Willow Farm is at 1103 Lenlock Lane, Anniston, Alabama. Farm tours $10. Book at redbirdwillowfarm.com or call (256) 239-3067. All programs free or low-cost. 501(c)(3). Michele will show you the willow tree if you ask.
If you or someone you know is in crisis: call or text 988.
In 2025, two babydoll sheep named Silver and Shadow came to live at Redbird Willow after the Headley Flower Farm closed. Read the full story.
Redbird Willow Farm — July 2026
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Redbird Willow Farm — on camera




















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