The first time I visited Raleigh was in April 2012 for a job interview.On the drive to my hotel from the airport, I noticed how light the traffic was on the highway. The hills were covered in trees and reminded me of Pennsylvania. I saw groups of deer running parallel to the treeline. As we got closer to my suburban hotel, there were trees everywhere. Trees canopied the street. Trees lined the commercial sidewalks. Pine trees shielded the hotel from the main road. It was spring so there were puffy white blossoms, pink puffballs, and bright red flowers blooming. The air smelled sweet. It was cool enough for a light jacket.
It was the smell in the air that got me. It smelled like home. Home, as in the small town of Tamaqua, PA where I was born. Home, as Squirrel Hill where I’d stroll along tree-lined sidewalks walking my dogs to Frick Park. Home, as in where I belonged.
The next day I woke early and exercised outside in the hotel courtyard. The air was cool and crisp, with a slight dampness that fogged my breath. Lovely.
Instead of taking a shuttle, I walked a mile up the hill to the office for my day of interviews. My day started with a panel interview followed by 6 or 7 one-on-one interviews. Then I joined a four-hour management meeting before we headed out for a group dinner.
The sun was setting in the evening sky as I got out of the car for dinner. The sky was bright blue, dotted with white, puffy cumulus clouds and fading to pink at the horizon. I looked around and everything was covered in a soft, golden hue*. I could smell the pine trees surrounding the parking lot and the flowers blooming on the crepe myrtles.
I knew right then that I wanted to live in Raleigh. This was where I belonged.
I was offered the job a month later and accepted.
My wife and I flew up for a 3 day weekend to find a place to live. I had connected with a realtor online, Vicki Robinson. She was great. I gave her our specific requirements. She helped us to narrow down the neighborhoods and identify a handful of suitable homes.
When we walked into the 3rd home, I knew it was the right one. It reminded me of my Aunt Essie’s home. It had hardwood floors and wood trim everywhere. It felt warm and cozy. It had a flower garden in back, a magnificient red maple in the front yard, and was on a cul-de-sac off of a private road hidden in the woods.
I loved it and so did my wife. We made an offer that day.
We stayed in Raleigh for 4 years.
I absolutely loved living there. Spring and fall were long and beautfiul. Summers were sunny and hot. Even winters were surprisingly mild and sunny except for a few weeks in February.
The people were so friendly. We had good neighbors. Strangers stopped to chat with us. In traffic, people let you merge in or enter from a side street.
It never felt unsafe anywhere. I wasnlt worried about break ins. I wasn’t worried about my wife being mugged or hit-n-run on the road. There weren’t nightly news stories about murders 7 days a week.
We left Raleigh to return to Florida after 4 years.
My wife missed seeing her son. He would visit us once a year, but she wanted to see him more. I had changed jobs and was then working from home. It occured to me that my wife was getting older. I considered that realistically she probably had another 5-10 years of good health left where she’d be active, physically capable and mobile enough to really enjoy herself.
Her best friend in Raleigh moved away to be near her grandchildren. Then her son (my stepson) told us he was planning to marry his girlfriend and have babies.
That was it.
We sold our home and moved back to Florida for the 3rd time.
Post script
I was sad to leave our Raleigh. It was the nicest place we ever lived and was in the absolute best location. We had spent $25K replacing the carpet with hardwood floors, installing new windows, painting the interior, fixing the garden and making it the perfect home for us. I regret leaving our home in Raleigh.
We ended up buying a home in Plantation FL. It wasn’t as nice of a home or neighborhood as we had in Raleigh. It never felt like home the way Raleigh did, but we made it work.
I don’t regret moving my wife back to be near her son. Over the next two years she saw him almost every week. We had dinners together, celebrated holidays, helped him with his car and she even took care of him when his back went out. Even though he broke up with his girlfriend and the possibility of grandchidren faded, I did right by my wife. She was so very happy to be a short drive away from him.
Sadly, my concerns about my wife’s health proved to be prescient. After two years in Florida, she was diagnosed with lung cancer and died 8 months later.
When I went on my road trip, I thought I would live in the wilderness for years – possibly forever.
I mapped out forest, mountain and desert campsites in New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, Texas and California.
I planned a grand loop around the US, hitting the Pacific Coast Highway, Orgeon, Washington State, and Vancouver before heading east to hit Maine and Vermont before heading south to visit PA and the Alleghenies.
I figured I would see the entire country while living in my micro camper. If any place called to me or if someone offered me a job, I could settle down anywhere.
When I ended my road trip after two months, I only considered three places to live:
- Florida – for the weather and to be near my stepson
- Pittsburgh – because I had friends and family there and still had fond memories of the last time Ellen and I lived there.
- Raleigh – Because it was my all time favorite place to live.
I’m really glad I returned to Raleigh.
*That soft golden hue from my first visit to Raleigh wasn’t a figment of my imagination. It was pine pollen! Every spring for a few weeks, Raleigh is covered in it.