I moved around a bit as a kid.

During my early years, I lived in a few places near Huntsville, Alabama – and then spent my formative years in Charleston, South Carolina.

But my hometown – my true hometown – is Mooresville, Alabama. Mooresville is a picturesque village on the edge of the Tennessee River, just east of Decatur. Population 47 (as of 2020). The place looks like a postcard from 150 years ago. The town was founded in 1818.

My father’s parents were married in the Brick Church there, which still stands today. Across the street from the house where my parents lived is the oldest still-operating post office in the state of Alabama. It opened in 1840. 

If you’re ever driving along I-65 between Birmingham and Nashville, take a quick detour and drive through the town. It’ll blow your mind. Stop for ice cream at Lyla’s Little House and tell her Samuel Wilson sent you. 

I lived in Mooresville until I was about 5. My first memories are from there. And many of those memories are of one of my mother’s best friends at the time. I’ll call her Madam Mayor.

Madam Mayor was, fittingly, the mayor of Mooresville in those days. I doubt the job was very difficult, for a tiny village like Mooresville. But I’m sure she handled her civic duties with diligence and care. 

Madam Mayor was very close to my family. Her daughter was the first babysitter for my brother and I. It seemed like they were always around. We saw them nearly everyday.

I always admired Madam Mayor and hung on every word she said. She was so stately and astute. So graceful with how she carried herself, always with a twinkle in her eye. In many ways, she was like my mom – just a little bit older and more refined.

One thing I remember from those days is that Madam Mayor spoke French – a rarity for someone living in little ol’ Mooresville. My recollection is that she had lived as a student for a time in Aix-en-Provence. 

She always spoke fondly about the south of France. The weather. The food. The gentleness of the people. It all sounded so dreamy. Somehow the idea got planted in my head as a little boy in Mooresville that I too would one day live in the south of France. 

In 8th grade, I started learning French in school. I took it seriously and excelled. I took my first trip to France the summer after high school – on a school trip. On the TGV between Paris and Nice, I remember staring out the window when we passed Aix-en-Provence and thinking about Madam Mayor.

The next year, during my first year of college, I visited the study abroad office. Having fallen in love with Nice – not so far from Aix, on the Cote D’Azur – I asked about study abroad programs. I ended up spending my junior year at the Université de Nice Sophia Antipolis, now called Université Côte d’Azur.

While in Nice, I thought a lot about Madam Mayor and the seed she planted in my head all those years earlier. I felt proud that I had duplicated her journey by studying in France. It felt like a connection we shared.

One day, after I returned from France, I sat with Madam Mayor talking about my time in Nice and all the interesting people I met while living there. 

She said to me, “From each chapter of your life, take one good friend along with you. That’s all you need.”

I never forgot those words, and all these years later realize what sound advice it is. 

My life has taken many twists and turns. I’ve lived in multiple countries, numerous cities. I’ve written several chapters in my book of life. And as I look back, I realize that from each place – from each chapter – I always took one good friend with me. That one good friend keeps the memories alive, grounding me when I revisit those old places in my mind. 

And when I think of Mooresville, I think of Madam Mayor. My lifelong friend and mentor, from my hometown.