Laurol and Mason Kerby found their talents, their calling and eventually each other in the community that helped raise them. This extended interview expands on Laurol and Mason Kerby’s story featured in The Growl Magazine Read the magazine version beginning on page 26.
Somewhere in an old Wylie High School pep rally photo, Laurol and Mason Kerby are standing about five feet apart.
At the time, they were simply two Bulldogs whose lives kept circling the same familiar places. Mason was friends with Laurol’s younger sisters. They attended the same church, knew many of the same people and occasionally crossed paths at Wylie events. They knew of each other for years, but neither imagined where those connections would eventually lead.
“We were in the same circles,” Mason said. “I had no idea we would ever be interested in each other.”
Their relationship began later, when Mason decided to reach out. After they started dating and realized how often their paths had nearly crossed, he searched through old Wylie photographs to see whether they had ever appeared in the same frame.
Eventually, he found one.
“We were standing maybe five feet apart from one another,” Mason said. “I had no idea that was my future wife.”
Today, the young Wylie alumni are building a life that includes music, ministry, dance, Texas Rangers baseball and more trips along Interstate 20 than either of them once imagined.
Their story did not begin with one dramatic high school moment. Instead, it grew from years of shared connections, familiar faces and a community that continued bringing their lives together.
Their paths through Wylie looked very different.
Laurol, a 2019 graduate, joined Wylie in seventh grade after moving from Wichita Falls. She quickly found her place in the Wylie Belles. After participating in Junior Belles, she spent four years on the high school team, becoming a lieutenant as a junior and captain as a senior.
“I found what I loved, and I just poured all in for four years,” she said.
Mason, a 2022 graduate who attended Wylie from kindergarten through graduation, took the opposite approach.
He played football and baseball, performed in theater, participated in FCA and PALS, announced basketball and volleyball games, sang the national anthem and emceed pep rallies.
A typical day could begin with FCA before school, include a visit with his PALS student, continue with theater rehearsal and end behind the microphone at a basketball game.
“I overworked myself,” he admitted with a laugh. “When I think of high school, I think, ‘That was everything.’”
One unexpected turn helped Mason discover what “everything” might eventually become.
After suffering his third concussion while playing football, he stepped away from the sport he once imagined would define his high school years. With room suddenly open in his schedule, he turned more fully toward theater and music.
Wylie’s theater program later advanced to state during his junior year, creating one of his favorite high school memories.
What felt like a closed door became a new direction.
“God’s plans are so much bigger and greater than you could imagine,” Mason said. “I would have never found that out if my priorities had not shifted.”
That shift eventually led him into ministry.
During the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic, Mason began taking his faith more seriously. When students returned to campus, he sometimes brought his guitar to FCA gatherings where only a handful of students worshipped together inside a classroom.
Those small gatherings helped him understand the importance of choosing the right people to walk beside.
“Who your community is shapes who you are,” he said.
Mason later earned his bachelor’s degree through Manna University and now serves as a pastor at Beltway Park Church, where music and ministry have become both his vocation and his calling.
He credits former Wylie educators Anne Hurst and Michael Elliott with helping shape him during important years.
Hurst encouraged his faith while serving as a teacher and FCA leader. Elliott coached him and showed young athletes what it meant to grow into responsible young men.
Mason may not remember one particular speech or lesson, but he remembers how they consistently showed up, encouraged him and helped him recognize gifts he had not fully seen in himself.
Even years later, those connections remain. Hurst recently texted Mason after hearing a song that reminded her of the days when he led worship at FCA. It was a small message, but a meaningful reminder that the relationships formed at Wylie often continue long after students leave the classroom.
Laurol’s path also grew from seeds planted at Wylie.
She credits former Belles director Lin Thompson with encouraging her through seasons when she questioned whether she was ready to lead. Thompson later mentored Laurol as she became an assistant Belles director and then a director herself.
“She encouraged me whenever I didn’t even feel like I could do it,” Laurol said. “She has followed me throughout that journey.”
There were many days when Laurol would sit in Thompson’s office and talk for nearly an hour. Those conversations provided wisdom, confidence and the steady reminder that someone believed in her.
That journey recently led Laurol to Globe Life Field.
She is now in her first season as a Texas Rangers Six Shooter, performing as part of the professional dance team during home games.
It is an opportunity her shy freshman-year self would have had trouble imagining.
“I had people tell me, ‘You can never do it. You’re too quiet,’” she said. “If someone had told my freshman self that I would dance for the Texas Rangers, I would have said, ‘You’re so funny. No, I’m not.’”
Her years as a Belle taught her more than routines and high kicks.
As an officer, she learned how to lead other young women while still discovering her own confidence. She now recognizes that same sense of sisterhood among the Six Shooters.
The opportunity began during a Rangers game with Mason, a lifelong fan. While he watched the action on the field, he noticed Laurol watching the dancers.
She told him performing with the Six Shooters looked exciting, although traveling from Abilene to Arlington did not seem especially realistic.
Mason’s answer was simple: Try out now. Figure out the logistics later.
“If you make it, we’ll figure it out,” he told her.
She did.
Hundreds of hopeful dancers began the audition process, which included virtual rounds, in-person performances and interviews. Laurol earned one of 21 places on the team.
Supporting one another has become part of the rhythm of their marriage.
Laurol understands that ministry often requires Mason to leave home early on Sundays or attend events outside regular working hours. Mason travels to Arlington when possible, cheering for the Rangers and the dancer he encouraged to take a chance.
“It felt like a very easy role for me to be the supporter because she has always been a great supporter for me,” Mason said.
Back in Abilene, Laurol also works as a hairstylist, a career Mason encouraged her to return to after she briefly stepped away.
She loves the creativity of the work, but she especially values the conversations and personal stories shared from the salon chair.
Their schedules can be full. Some nights end with Laurol driving home from Arlington after a game or practice. Other evenings find Mason attending a church event, rehearsal or meeting.
They have learned that a busy life does not have to become a disconnected one.
“We have to constantly say no to good things so that we can say yes to great things,” Mason said.
For them, that means protecting time together, even when another event, invitation or opportunity appears on the calendar.
“We haven’t stopped dating one another,” Laurol said. “We’ve made time for each other because we need that time together.”
They still make one another laugh, too.
Despite being married to a singer, Laurol is the person most likely to burst into song around the house. Mason’s attempts at dancing are usually what make her laugh the hardest.
He is the storyteller, sometimes turning a small tale into a detailed production. She is the organized one who arrives early and handles stress with a little more calm.
They are also competitive, although Mason may occasionally let Laurol win.
She would prefer that he did not.
Their classmates seemed to recognize their talents long before the Kerbys knew where those talents might lead. Mason was voted most likely to win “American Idol.” Laurol was named best dancer.
Years later, those predictions look surprisingly accurate.
Together, they reflect two valuable lessons for today’s students.
Laurol encourages students not to place so much pressure on themselves to have adulthood mapped out before graduation.
“Have dreams and have goals, but live in the now and soak it all in,” she said. “They may not happen on your timeline.”
Mason encourages students to participate, take chances and build relationships.
“Go to the Friday night football games. Audition for the musical, even if theater is not your thing. Try out for the sport you have an interest in,” he said. “Make the most of your time here.”
Wylie looks different when they return today.
There are new campuses, new facilities, additional security and far more doors than Laurol remembers having to walk through.
Some changes are especially noticeable. During Laurol’s early years in Belles, the team sometimes practiced in an upstairs storage area without much room.
Today’s facilities tell a different story.
Still, beneath the growth, the Kerbys recognize the place that helped shape them.
“Wylie is big into traditions and keeping those,” Laurol said. “They haven’t lost their heart or what they are trying to do to affect people in positive ways.”
One of their favorite traditions is singing “It Is Well.”
For Mason, that song now carries an especially deep meaning. After the death of a former classmate, he was asked to lead worship at the funeral. At the graveside, surrounded by familiar Wylie faces, he chose the song generations of Bulldogs have sung together on Friday nights.
A school tradition became a source of comfort in a difficult moment.
It was another reminder that the community students build at Wylie can continue walking beside them long after graduation.
The Kerbys’ story is a reminder that students may not always recognize the significance of the people standing nearby, the teacher who offers an encouraging word or the unexpected turn that leads them toward a new gift.
Sometimes, the future is already there in the picture, just five feet away.
Years later, two Bulldogs can return home carrying the lessons, friendships and faith that began here, still discovering that it truly is great to be a Wylie Bulldog.







