My mother was born in Radford, Virginia, my father in Ludwigshaven, Germany.
I’ve always felt deeply fortunate and blessed with what came to me from each of them (and of course at this point in life wish they were still around to tell them just what it was). From my mother’s side, the ability to laugh and joke, to run and play. Southern, if you will. From my father’s, the structure that has shaped my days. German, if you will.
And which seems to have come down to a life full of repetition. After repetition. After repetition.
Said another way: If it worked today, it should work tomorrow, and I think that’s what I’ll do.
The first was the easiest. I didn’t miss a day of school after the second grade, during which I had all of the childhood illnesses. I liked going to school.
Others have followed. I ran every day for years on end and maintain 40 minutes of some kind of aerobic, 365.
I started decades ago eating raw carrots every day as a part of lunch. Still works. As does the old apple a day.
I got to play slow pitch softball into my 60s. Loved it in my 20s when I was, you know, the fastest guy around, and loved it in my 60s until that line drive to right that used to be a double had turned into a risk they’d throw me out at first.
There are many other repetitions, but as cherished as any is the one that has brought me to this desk every day for every day this magazine has existed, beginning in the fall of 1988.
Richard Wells, our founder, owner and publisher back then, talked to me about what a regional magazine was, referred me to a few samples like Yankee and Down East, and sent Gail and me on a trip through the Southern Appalachians to get things warmed up.
At this juncture of the job, there’s no threat from right field as there was at the end of softball, and I cherish daily interactions with the magazine’s amazing writers and readers as much as ever. But I will turn 80 in the spring, and the combination of new ownership of the company — meet VistaMedia and Randy Thompson — and the talented and ready-to-roll Sarah Riddell confirms that it’s time for me to find some new rituals.
Randy and Sarah have both talked about a few “emeritus” pieces. Seems like a good transition in leaving behind the best job anyone ever had. Thanks to all who made it that, for all these decades.
The story above first appeared in our January / February 2026 issue.
