Remembering Felicia Woodall and Ryan Pence, victims of the 2019 Beauregard tornado
Felicia Woodall and Ryan Pence were ready to start a life together.
The couple, both 22, purchased a home in Beauregard, Alabama, on six acres of land in December 2018 and had dreams of one day building a dog boarding and training center on it.
Felicia was taking business classes online and had recently taken a secretary job. Ryan hoped to one day work in law enforcement and was also taking online college classes in the criminal justice field.
They’d discussed getting engaged sometime in the near future.
But those dreams never came to fruition.
Felicia and Ryan were killed in the March 3, 2019, tornado that left 23 members of the Beauregard community dead and multiple homes destroyed.
One year later, their families remember them as an animal-loving duo who seemed to fit perfectly together.
A heart for dogs
Felicia was a fun loving go-getter, her mother Cheryl Pentzer told the Ledger-Enquirer.
She was born on August 15, 1996, in Weatherford, Texas. For about 10 years, Felicia, her sister Destinee and their mother were a tight-knit family after Cheryl and Felicia’s father divorced. They spent most of their time together in the evenings reading and talking since Cheryl was taking classes and working during the day to support her two girls.
Felicia was constantly on the move. Throughout her school career, Felicia tried out for soccer, joined Future Farmers of America and performed as various mascots.
The family moved to Panama City in 2012 after Cheryl met and married Eric, an Air Force technical sergeant. Felicia graduated from Bozeman High School in 2014 and struggled to find her next steps.
She knew she loved animals and had a job at the local PetSmart training dogs. She even trained their family dog, Kojak.
“She could say ‘stick ‘em up’ and he would sit up on his hind legs with his front paws up and she’d say ‘bang!’ and he’d fall over,” Cheryl said.
By 2017, the family was considering a move back home to Texas but Felicia wasn’t sure. She’d met a boy.
‘He was good’
Ryan never met an enemy, a quality he inherited from his maternal grandmother, his mother Lori Pence said.
“She could go to the grocery store and know the person in front of ‘em’s life story by the time they left,” Lori said. “Ryan was the same way.”
He grew up in Wylie, Texas, four hours from where Felicia spent her youth. The two never crossed paths until 2016, when they met in Alabama.
A lover of Crimson Tide football and spending time out on the lake, Ryan was known to be a leader and gained the respect of many even at a young age.
“I traveled a lot but it was good, we were close,” Lori said. “He’s a momma’s boy and a daddy’s boy, and grandmas’ boy. He was spoiled rotten...but he was good.”
He graduated from Wylie East High School in May 2015 and joined his mother in Alabama that December, where she had moved for work. About a month later, he secured a job at the City of Eufaula Parks and Recreation Department and worked up the ranks. He landed his first supervisor job at 19.
But Ryan had bigger plans. He was interested in one day joining the Lee County Sheriff’s Office and eventually the FBI, Lori said. He started taking online courses in forensic science and had about a year left in the program at the time of his death.
After two years of living and working in Alabama, he had connected with a girl.
‘Perfect for each other’
Ryan and Felicia’s relationship started quietly. The two met through mutual friends on Facebook in fall 2016 and got to know each other through text messages and social media.
Felicia was hesitant to say much to her family about her initial feelings, Cheryl said. She had been through tough relationships in the past and was hesitant to get too excited about the possibilities.
She didn’t want to jinx things, she told her mother.
But time passed and the two grew closer. They met in person in Dothan, Alabama, and “officially” began dating on Dec. 29, 2016, Cheryl said.
“You could see his eyes light up when he talked about her, so I knew he liked her. Once I got to meet her, you could tell why because she was an awesome girl ... they were perfect for each other,” Lori said.
Cheryl and Eric started discussing the possibility of moving back to Texas, causing Felicia to finally open up more about her strong feelings: She didn’t want to move. She was set on Ryan and ready to take the next steps with him.
“That’s when she started saying, ‘I don’t think I’m gonna go,’ and I’m like, ‘What do you mean you’re not going?’” Cheryl recalled.
Her family met Ryan and felt comfortable letting Felicia move to Alabama. They even gave Kojak to the couple with an important duty.
“We felt guilty taking him away from her. We had a little conversation with Kojak and told him to protect her and we left Kojak with her,” Cheryl said.
On December 31, 2018, the couple closed on their new home in Beauregard.
The first time Cheryl and Eric visited the town was Presidents Day weekend 2019, only two weeks before the tornado came through. Cheryl called it “an absolutely beautiful place.”
The family enjoyed the precious days together that were now few and far between.
Ryan and Eric found themselves alone at one point during the weekend running an errand and Ryan used the opportunity to ask an important question.
He asked Eric — who was closer to Felicia than her biological dad, Cheryl said — if he could have Felicia’s hand in marriage.
Although Eric was surprised, he took a moment to gather his thoughts and came up with two questions.
“He just asked him what he thought marriage was and he said a lifetime commitment, and asked him if he believed in Jesus Christ and he said yes,” Cheryl said. “Eric gave him his blessing.”
Ryan hadn’t made concrete plans to propose but did ask his mother to go ring shopping. They planned on going March 9.
But Felicia knew a proposal was coming. Ryan told her about the conversation with Eric, and she discussed it with her family as well.
“It was supposed to be a secret but thank goodness nobody could keep a secret, so she knew,” Lori said.
Last day
March 3 seemed to be just like any other Sunday. Ryan grilled that morning as part of their meal prep for the week, and Felicia spent the afternoon watching the rain outside with their dogs, Kojak, Timon, Smiley and Winston.
Felicia sent a Snapchat of the rain in their front yard to her mother at 1:55 p.m. The caption read, “We are so blessed to have this place.”
Lori called Ryan, waking him from a nap, four minutes before the tornado hit to warn him about bad storms coming through the area. Then she called Felicia to make sure the two knew to keep an eye on the weather.
“She said it was starting to rain and lightning, they were going to get the dogs and go inside. And I said ‘I love you, call you guys later,’” Lori said.
The Lee County Coroner recorded Felicia and Ryan’s time of death as 2:15 p.m. None of their dogs survived the storm — the rescue team that found the couple said Kojak was on Felicia’s chest and the others were nearby, Cheryl said.
Not much was left on that six acres following the tornado, aside from the concrete slab that once supported the couple’s home.
“It’s almost like their stuff was just, just obliterated. There was nothing,” Cheryl said.
Both mothers searched the area for anything of sentimental value like photos or jewelry, but walked away with only a few pieces of clothing. Someone later found Ryan’s keys to his truck.
A year later, the two mothers say they’re now different people.
“I don’t even know who I am anymore because it’s just, different,” Cheryl said. “There’s some days you don’t want to get dressed and there’s some days that you put on a smile and go out.”
Lori echoed similar sentiments.
“I don’t look at anything the same. I still don’t even think I’ve really accepted it. I still pick up the phone and call him,” she said. “One thing I’ve learned is life is too short. Don’t stay angry, don’t stay mad. You don’t know when you’re going to be able to say you’re sorry or I love you or anything like that. Let the small stuff go. It’s not worth it.”
The property is now in the Pence and Pentzer families, but they’re in no rush to make a decision on what happens to it. For the time being, a memorial Cheryl and Lori put together near the concrete slab is enough.
“They were perfect for each other,” Lori said.
