Have you ever known that you want a change—but not what that change should be? I’ve felt that way about retirement for some time.
I’m still a practicing business lawyer. I’m working on two mergers and acquisitions deals and just helped colleagues to close three others—all at what I think is a very high level, in my unbiased opinion.
But after 38 years, I need a change. But to do what? How should I plan to spend my retirement?
My wife and I aren’t beach people or world travelers. Although I’ve always loved hiking, I think my time for the Camino de Santiago or hiking through the Appalachian Trail is long past. (Both were once on my bucket list.) Although we certainly have lots to do around the house “when we find the time,” I suspect that “time” will fill up only a few days.
The same goes for all the books I love to read. And I know I’ll continue writing and serving on nonprofit boards.
But that still leaves a lot of empty slots in the calendar.
I think I recently found possible solutions. One I’m still exploring is joining the Ignatian Volunteer Corps. I also happened to see an online ad recruiting volunteers to lead Twilight Tours in Independence National Historical Park.
That immediately caught my attention.
You see, I’ve long enjoyed leading tours of our historic area for my son’s youth groups and out-of-town visitors. Pre-pandemic, I planned and led a full-day tour that helped members of my son’s Boy Scout troop earn the Trail of Freedom medal from American Historical Trails. During that tour, I was even surprised to unexpectedly come across the grave of my wife’s home town’s namesake in a historic church cemetery.
I’ve also enjoyed programs of the Philadelphia Archaeological Forum presented by practicing urban archaeologists. The fact that they were presented in conjunction with the National Park Service may have planted the seed in my mind. Similarly, our favorite activity on a family vacation in Washington, D.C., was taking several D.C. by Foot tours, led by knowledgeable guides who were also great story tellers.
Researching and preparing for my informal tours of Philadelphia has inspired me to learn about my hometown’s archaeology. I always gave visitors my can’t-miss sites—not the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and other famous ones, but my own favorites.
I love to show how Philadelphians actually lived in Colonial times, such as at Benjamin Franklin Court and its Ghost House. The William Penn Steps take visitors up from the Delaware River waterfront and provide a glimpse of life in the late 1600s.
After the day-long Scout tour, I was proud that troop adults complimented my knowledge of the city’s sites and geography. In fact, an unplanned side trip to the Betsy Ross House on a day when Franklin Court took less time than planned led to three years of our Scouts conducting flag retirement ceremonies at that landmark. Each program featured a ceremonial burning of worn flags. Our Scouts explained flag etiquette to visitors using a script I wrote.
And what teen boy doesn’t look forward to playing with fire at a national landmark? (I’m just kidding—all of our Scouts and leaders have extensive fire-safety training.)
I also can’t discount my longtime admiration for a well-known Philadelphia columnist’s second career as a tour guide. We even happened to see him at work during one of the Scout tours, although no one else recognized him.
As a native and life-long resident, I certainly agree with his statement: “Philadelphia isn’t as great as Philadelphians think it is. It’s better.”
So perhaps his praise of his “second career” as a Philadelphia tour guide subconsciously inspired me to send my name to the National Park Service when I saw its ad. The twilight scheduling works out well for me while I’m still practicing law. I can tend to immediate client needs during the day and then go to the park in the evening.
Since the tours are seasonal, I’m not making a permanent commitment. If I am up too late, I can use a vacation day. And I can easily do extra tour preparation on weekends or last-minute reconnaissance on foot at lunch.
After submitting my name, I received information on “new-guide training” on a weekend in early May, which I attended. I’m responsible for creating my own tour, one that I’d want to take. But park staff must approve the tour, and experienced guides provide support.
Although tour stops should be of “personal interest to me,” the tour must be based on one of several themes:
Within these broad frameworks, I have many ideas. Should I focus on my personal favorites, as I’ve done informally? Or should I build on my personal familiarity with the city and its history to create a unique tour from a native’s perspective?
Certainly, I know I’ll rely on the experienced guides to get started. Their counterparts who led our D.C. on Foot tours were the stars of our vacation. But I look forward to telling my own Philadelphia stories. For example, I might combine my interests in history and archaeology to show “the places where it happened (that aren’t there anymore),” such as the “ghost house” or the Wood Street steps. Or the site where George Washington lived as president—with his slaves.
Perhaps William Penn’s well-known religious tolerance might provide my theme. My Jesuit high school traces its origins to a congregation founded in 1733. Its current 1839 building was designed with high windows for defense against the riots that burned other churches in the area.
If I sound excited, I am—I can’t wait to get started.
I may simply discover that I like being a tour guide by writing about Philadelphia more than I enjoy actually leading tours. I hope to find out. Maybe I’ll see you on the Streets of Philadelphia.
