1981

1981

French author and philosopher Andre Gide wrote, “Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” Accounts of brave ’81 “second (or third) acts” continue to inspire and delight us.

After working in banking, Chris “Spot” Morrison decided he wanted to try teaching. “Problem was, I had no teaching credentials. Luckily, the head of a school in Atlanta was from Framingham [Massachusetts], Being from Needham, also just outside Boston, he was happy to find someone who could understand him. He took a chance with me and I ended up teaching and coaching high school for the next 30 years. It was a great move for me. My wife says it best, ‘You teach so that you can remain a child.’ Truer words were never spoken.”

John Curtis left his business life behind at age 53 and rescued a botanic garden on the Isle of Wight off the southern coast of England. He said retiring wasn’t his goal, “working differently was.” Then, “Suddenly I had 14 ex-government employees to coax, drag, and cajole into the private sector, 29 acres, 6,000 subtropical species, and a lot of broken equipment. In many ways this second act has been more difficult and more rewarding than the first act.” His aim was not just about making money, but about “keeping the garden open for island residents and visitors and helping them understand the changing climate through the ‘living collection.’ ” He loves the hands-on approach and is “not adverse

to driving a tractor or foraging with the head gardener for ingredients the head chef can use in our restaurant.” John has restored 16 buildings and “picked hops and delivered them to our contract brewer for our Botanic Pale Ale. I have immensely enjoyed those ales.” He closes with an invitation for visits from any volunteer gardeners and can even offer garden cabins and cottages for accommodations.

Not that it’s inspiring or delightful, but I left advertising and marketing after my first son was born. Overseas for my husband’s work and in addition to volunteering and raising four children, I started writing fiction “seriously.” I earned an M.F.A. in writing for children and young adults when I was in my mid-40s. Incidentally, about half of my classmates were older—in their 50s, 60s, and 70s—all of whom are now traditionally published. Writing professionally for most of us, however, is low paying, involves long, solitary hours, and is full of constant rejection and criticism. Nevertheless, I hope to continue this act until the final curtain (so to speak). As poet Mary Oliver wrote, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Let us know.

—Ann Jacobus Kordahl, P.O. Box 470443, San Francisco, CA 94147; ajkordahl@gmail.com; Emil Miskovsky. P.O. Box 2162, North Conway, NH03860; emilmiskovsky@gmail.com