The Great Remove

I moved to Madison, Georgia, in the summer of 2005. I was not sure whether I would stay: the job that I had landed just might not be all that great. Because of that uncertainty, I rented an apartment. After one year, I decided to stay. True, the job was not all that great, but Madison was lovely.

In 2006, I bought a three-bedroom home on a quiet street. There was a fourth room that could not be counted as a bedroom, because it did not contain a closet. That room became my office. The house was perfect for the two of us: my dog Ronnie, and me.

Ronnie and I lived there, happily, for a fair number of years. In 2013 I married Kathy, and she moved in with us. Kathy is a big city girl, and Madison, with its two stoplights downtown, is not a big city. Still, she succumbed to its charms and seemed happy there.

Ronnie was very happy with Kathy. Ronnie was a Lab/Chow mix: he looked like a Lab but had the temperament of a Chow. He did not like most people, but he fell in love with Kathy, and stayed in love with her until he passed in 2018. Ronnie’s ashes are still with us. He sits on a shelf in the living room, keeping guard over Kathy until this very day.

My misgivings about the job in Madison were sound, and in 2012 I parted ways with the company. I began to work in Decatur, Georgia, at a school that was about 55 miles away from my little home in Madison. I had a choice, of course: sell the home and move back into the city, or suck it up and enjoy the commute. I chose the latter. I would leave the house every morning somewhere between 5:00 and 5:30, just to avoid the Atlanta area rush-hour traffic. Atlanta during the rush hour (which lasts approximately three hours) is surely a first-order approximation to hell on earth. Why put myself through this torture? There is a one-word answer: Madison.

Madison has a fair number of antebellum homes. There are a variety of stories as to why General Sherman (wash my mouth out with soap for saying his name) did not burn the city. I think I know the real reason, but whether I have the right story or not does not matter. These antebellum homes, the small town atmosphere, the friendly people, the great restaurants, all combine to make this a fantastic place to live. I do not know whether the city has an official slogan. The unofficial slogan is “We will not become another Gwinnett County!” For those of you who are not familiar with the disaster that is the Atlanta Metro Area, Gwinnett County, a suburban county, had at one time the highest growth rate of any county in the country. It is now a total mess: commercial buildings everywhere, houses everywhere, strip malls everywhere, apparently with no planning or forethought. The city fathers of Madison are doing everything within their power to prevent that from happening there.

Last fall, Kathy and I had a discussion about my job and our future. She was ready for me to retire. I was not. We eventually reached a compromise of sorts: semi-retirement in a bigger city. That city would be Asheville, where her two children and one grandchild reside. I informed my school, and while she looked for a suitable home in Asheville, I looked for a job. We succeeded on both counts. I am a part-time teacher of mathematics and chemistry at a private school here in town (a mere 4.8 miles from our home), while Kathy found a house that would satisfy both of us.

The Great Remove from Madison began last summer, and has just now concluded. While there are a few boxes to be sorted and only two rooms still to be organized (my workshop and the garage), the move has officially ended. I can say that because now we have North Carolina driver’s licenses, North Carolina plates on the vehicles, and new voter registration cards. Kathy has already voted, having taken advantage of the slack voting laws in the state that seem to encourage voting fraud. I, on the other hand, prefer to vote on Election Day, and not during Election Month. I will perform my ritual act of civic responsibility Tuesday, at the local Presbyterian church.

The Madison phase of my life has ended. I still miss that little town. But I am not fond of living life while looking in the rear-view mirror. I will enjoy Asheville, even as I miss Madison.