The last time I beat the pavement looking for a new job, I was still considered a young guy, married a short time and two small daughters. Our country still found itself licking its wounds from 9/11, and the world as I had always known it was in a period of transition into what can only be described as dysfunctional change.

This morning over breakfast, I said one blanket goodbye to a remarkable group of folks. One last moment to express my deep appreciation for what they mean to me.

Monday morning will be a new time. A time to put my years of public service into the new world of the private sector. I have no delusions, or grandiose visions about what lie in store for me. The challenges and stress that will be upon me as I enter this new phase are understood, recognized, and as much as anyone can be, I am prepared for the whole chaotic mess.

Honestly, though I love my current work family and love what we do, I will not miss the governmental and political aspect. During my tenure, I have witnessed some pristine land vanish forever under a housing development or business park. I have been a reluctant party in turning a farm that I once knew well into a roundabout and a landscaped sign. The farm was modest, but it was a testament to a simple life. A life where each day held challenge, but the pace and rhythm of the place and the work they created was not hard from the perspective of mental anguish brought about by traffic jams, street lights, and eighteen wheelers on a never-ending flow. And in those rolling boxes are boxes of product from places that have never been to the area and have zero vested interest other than product and cash. That part, I do truly hate.

But on the other hand…

How about the Hispanic gentleman who just needed a place to do business that would also allow his family to live on sight to save money? Or how about the young man who just lost his grandfather and needed advice on what to do with the land willed to him. Or the person who was told in beaurocratic terms how they could proceed with his/her plans and needed my council?

People. A sense of place. A better community.

Now that I am stepping away, I can say without fear of political repercussion that sometimes the best use of land is to just leave it alone, and the very thing that people around here use as a bragging point (beauty, open space, the mountains, well kept farms), is being arbitrarily consumed by folks who have zero vested interest in the property. It is a product for profit, not a place with a history.

Every afternoon as I come down the hill into Riverdale, I pass horse farms, churches, small family farms. And in the distance I see the Smokies in all their glory. Herds of deer, flocks of turkey, rabbits, foxes, bald eagles, and occasionally the nomadic ramblings of a bear. Life is everywhere you turn. Peaceful and holy, the land holds deep history. The wildlife have always been there without much fear of displacement. To me, Riverdale is life. Riverdale is community. Riverdale has become over the years, my haven, my healing, my home.

Goodbye Knox Planning. I hope I have served you well.

Hello Michael Brady, Inc and I will be ready to dive in on Monday.

The wild adventure continues…but it always returns to Riverdale.