Welcome to Tallahassee

Reprint from my blog in Tallahassee Democrat. Click on title to see it there.

Man – I am too old for this. After spending my first 55 years in the same town and the last 33 years teaching in the same classroom – I moved to Tallahassee. Now if some of you might think – here comes another “snowbird” story – you would be wrong. After years of my wife marking time while I waited out my pension – I followed my wife when she was recruited for a job here in Tallahassee.

I was convinced that I would be the exception to the rule. This old dog was going to be able to learn new tricks. Now after experiencing all the pressures of being a trailing spouse – I intended to become a chameleon in Leon County.

My destiny in Tallahassee started back in 1988 when we decided to pull the kids out of school up north 1000 miles away and spend a one year sabbatical here in town. Lulu – my wife – would earn her degree at Florida State University. We loved that year in town – going to FSU games – enjoying all the neat things that Tallahassee had to offer. When the year was over – we vowed to one day return to this bright and shining city in the hills.

Fast forward several years of attending as many Seminole sporting events as we could (thank goodness for joining the ACC so we could catch Maryland or Virginia each year) – to my 55th birthday and retirement from the classroom. The hangovers from the retirement party had not even gone away – when I promised my wife that now was her chance – I would follow her wherever she wanted to go. In less time than it takes to say Apalachee – I found out where my new home would be.

I am not sure of the exact timing or how it came about – but in a few days – Lulu was invited to be a guest speaker in the capital city. When we got here – to my surprise – just like in the cartoons – a contract and a pen were offered to her and she signed on the dotted line - and my life changed forever.

At age 55 – I was going to lose all my friends – retire from my job – leave my boyhood hometown neighborhood – sell the cedar chalet (pictured) we built from a kit 30 years before – and embark to a town we knew very little about.


The kids were long gone – their college days were already past. They had spread throughout the country. Unlike their old man – who spent his entire life within walking distance of his childhood playground and Alma Mater – we now all spend our evenings in zip codes with different first digits.

So I had no excuses – but to become “the trailing spouse” for the last quarter of my life.