Fond Farewell

Because our house in Daphne sold so quickly, for the last few weeks Diane and I have been living in a friend’s guest house in Fairhope, very close to the Mobile Bay. My morning walks have improved considerably; I now walk down the bay to the Fairhope Public Pier, then down the pier. The sun is just rising from the east as I walk back, reminding me, once again, how breathtakingly beautiful this place is. 

It’s easy to take all this for granted. I grew up in Mobile. During my teenage years, my good friend had a bay house on County Rd 1, south of Scenic 98. They had a pier that stretched out 400 feet over the water,  with a covered landing at the end. We spent many weekends there, fishing, playing music, sailing, laughing and teasing. That was nearly 45 years ago, but the memories come roaring back as I walk alongside the bay each morning and soak it all in. Something about the open water brings us full circle, calming us and slowing us down.

I will miss this place. I will miss its beauty and southern charm. I will miss the kindness of strangers, who engage you in friendly “hello’s” or small talk as you  pass them by. I will miss the oak trees, draped in Spanish moss, and the sounds of laughter and faint music, which carry across the water from some unknown source. I’ve learned that retired people love their dogs, and can be seen at all parts of the day, out walking them.  There’s indeed a “peaceful, easy feeling” here. No one is in a particular hurry. 

My first impression of Plano is different: More traffic, a much younger town, with people in their mid-careers, successful,  hustling to get ahead. Things are just busier there, and it’ll take some getting used to. But we believe it’s where God wants us, for now. My daughter is there, with her four daughters, ages 6, 4, 3 and 1, and we don’t want them to grow up without knowing us. 

And perhaps, though I am conflicted about this, it’s time to move on from St. Michael as well. It’s been an incredible joy ride these last seven years to start this school with the people of Baldwin County. I’ve been able to take all my best ideas from leading two other Catholic high schools for 26 years, propose them for this school, and see them flourish. Our success has been astounding on every level: enrollment, philanthropy, test scores, A.P. results, athletic accomplishments, and real advances in the arts, music and band. The life of faith here is vibrant and strong. I am proud of the school we’ve created together. 

But there does come a point in every school, I believe, where the “cutting edge” ideas experienced by the first wave of students and parents become the “status quo” ideas by the second and third wave. Storefronts need occasional make-overs. So do schools, and the easiest way to do that is change out the leadership. “Letting go” is tough for the founder of any institution, even when that person senses, deep down, it’s time to do so. From that release comes a grace and a humility (not my strong suit) which is good for the soul. I’ve felt the peace that comes with that, especially these last few weeks. 

So, “onward and upward.” I’ve used that phrase to close out my weekly communications with our parents and friends ever since our beginning. I mean it to suggest we should keep our gaze focused on our future (onward) but also on the Lord (upward). 

I’ve been asked hundreds of questions about our success here: “Why are donors so generous?”  “How do you have such great A.P. scores?”  “How did you land Philip Rivers as your coach?”  “What accounts for your strong enrollment? “ "How did you get such wonderful teachers?" In the end, the answer to all those questions is the same:  “God’s grace.” If we remember that, with humility, if we listen carefully to Him and have the conviction to go where He leads,  this school will continue to make a powerful difference—an eternal difference— in the lives of its students and families. 

May it always be so.