The Tropic-Anas
- Carrie Harcus
- Jun 15
- 4 min read
A friendship that started at Tropicana and continues 25 years later.

Twenty-five years ago, we met at Tropicana. A few weeks ago, we stood together on a Florida beach. In between were careers, marriages, children, moves, promotions, reinventions, losses, triumphs, and countless life lessons.
Somehow, through all of it, we found our way back to each other.
I moved to Florida in 1999 for a job at Tropicana, knowing almost no one. When you're in that situation, your coworkers become much more than colleagues. They become your support system, your friends, your family away from home. Fortunately, there were several women at Tropicana who were in similar stages of life. We were building careers, finding significant others, getting married, buying homes, and eventually starting families. We worked hard, laughed often, and built friendships that would outlast our time at the company. For years, we stayed connected in the way many friendships do. Holiday cards. Facebook updates. LinkedIn congratulations. The occasional text.
Then in 2023, a group text formed among eight of us. What started as a few messages somehow turned into a reunion. Despite busy careers, family obligations, sports schedules, and college visits, women from five different states converged on a lake house in North Carolina for Labor Day weekend. And something remarkable happened. It felt like no time had passed. And yet, everything had changed. We spent a few days catching up on more than twenty years of life. We talked about our children, careers, challenges, successes, aging parents, and dreams for the future. We laughed until we cried. Sometimes we just cried. It was one of the best weekends I can remember.
Since then, our group chat has remained active, and we've managed to get together every year. A few weeks ago, we gathered again—this time in Florida. Not always all at once. Not always on the same weekend. Life still happens. But the commitment remains.
What strikes me most when we're together is how differently our paths have unfolded—and yet how many common threads connect us.
Jen Newton has remained at the forefront of the beverage industry, helping build brands at companies including Nestlé Waters and BodyArmor and now serving as a sales executive at Liquid Death. Her energy, curiosity, and passion for the industry are as strong today as they were when we first met.
Katherine Rush built an impressive career spanning consumer products, retail, and home goods before co-founding New Thresholds, helping families navigate the often-overwhelming process of downsizing and move management. Watching her entrepreneurial journey unfold has been exciting and inspiring.
Kristi Rees became our resident consumer insights expert, building expertise across both client and supplier organizations. From Tropicana to GE, Tervis, Boar's Head, Kantar, and now SymphonyAI, she has consistently stayed ahead of industry change while helping organizations better understand the people they serve.
Meghan Stout has spent her career doing what great marketers do best—adapting, learning, and leading. From agency life to consumer brands, entrepreneurship, and now as Vice President of Marketing at OdorCare, she continues to take on new challenges with enthusiasm and confidence.
Rachael Moore's career has been equally dynamic, spanning consumer products, nonprofit work, consulting, startups, retail, and financial services. Today, as Vice President of Marketing at Advanta IRA, she helps individuals explore alternative investment opportunities while continuing to bring creativity and strategic thinking to everything she does.
Sandy Lanclos started her career in consulting and consumer products before applying her talents across marketing, communications, human resources, and community leadership. Today, she's building a real estate business with Meybohm Real Estate while experimenting with Instagram and TikTok content creation—yet another example of her willingness to embrace new challenges and continue growing.
Suzanne Lewis built a career across marketing, consulting, healthcare, education, and analytics before moving into nonprofit leadership. Today, she serves as Director of Marketing & Communications for Hope Reins, combining her professional expertise with her longstanding passion for helping children, families, and communities thrive.
And me? My path has taken me through large corporate leadership roles, consulting, teaching, nonprofit board service, and ultimately the launch of StrategiSphere. While the chapters may look different, the desire to keep learning, growing, and helping others has remained constant.
As I look across this group, what strikes me most isn't our job titles or career accomplishments. It's our willingness to evolve.
We've changed industries.
We've taken risks.
We've reinvented ourselves.
We've raised families while building careers.
We've pursued new opportunities, stepped outside our comfort zones, and continued learning long after we could have settled into what was familiar.
What makes me smile is that none of us sees each other through our titles. When we're together, we're not executives, founders, consultants, marketers, researchers, entrepreneurs, or nonprofit leaders. We're simply the women who knew each other when we were figuring life out in our twenties—and who continue to show up for one another decades later.
And now, as we enter another phase of life, we're doing it again. Our children are becoming adults. Some have left home. New opportunities are emerging. New questions are being asked about purpose, impact, and what comes next. And through it all, we continue to encourage one another, challenge one another, and celebrate one another.
As I sat with these women in Florida a few weeks ago, I found myself overwhelmed with gratitude.
Grateful that a job I took in my twenties introduced me to these remarkable women. Proud of who they have become. Honored that we've been able to witness one another's journeys. And excited to see what the next chapter holds for each of us. Because if the last twenty-five years have taught me anything, it's that none of us are finished growing yet.




