Some places live in you long before you ever realize it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a little boy growing up in Missouri, my summers were spent visiting my father in Texas. He lived in Houston then, and among many chapters of his life, as a nurse, a hairstylist, and so much more, he spoke of being a beach lifeguard. I remember the long, hot drives we’d take from Houston down to the island, the Texas sun beating down, and riding in the bed of a pickup truck, something that probably dates me a bit. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
What waited at the end of those drives felt like freedom.
The sun.
The water.
The fishing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Galveston is where my sister and I learned to swim in the beach. We\u2019d spend hours fishing off the pier until the heat became unbearable, then we\u2019d jump in the water to cool off. Countless trips. Endless memories. Those summers planted something in me long before I understood what it was. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life, of course, took me many places after that. As a child and teenager, I lived with my father and his partner and traveled extensively, from Texas to California to Florida, always within reach of the coast. Growing up near the water gave me a deep respect for nature and its power. I learned early what it means to prepare, to adapt, and to help your neighbors when things get hard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve\u00a0lived through hurricanes, tropical storms, evacuations, floods, food and gas shortages, and long stretches without power. Some of you may remember Hurricane Alicia in 1983 and the devastation it caused throughout Galveston and the greater Houston area, with\u00a0billions of dollars in damage.\u00a0That storm affected my father, and\u00a0he\u00a0spoke of it often.\u00a0In Florida, I experienced countless storms, including hurricanes Katrina and Wilma in 2005. While many evacuated, my family stayed. We planned. We prepared. We tied ropes from one neighbor\u2019s front door to the next so that if the wind caused catastrophic damage, there was a lifeline to safety.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve gone weeks without electricity, and I can tell you with confidence: coffee made on a grill is not gourmet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Along the way, I also experienced the rise and fall of economies firsthand. In Florida, driven by an entrepreneurial spirit, I owned my own tech company until 2008 took it. When clients stopped paying, I spent every dime I had to make sure my employees still received their checks. I wish I could say that sacrifice was rewarded with immediate success. Instead, like so many others during the Great Recession, I faced bankruptcy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was painful. It humbled me. But failure was never an option. My responsibility was to provide, and I did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then came Massachusetts, which introduced me to a whole new kind of resilience. Nor\u2019easters. Feet of snow. Relentless shoveling. Parking bans. Commutes that turned a 30-minute drive into hours. Did I mention shoveling? In Massachusetts, life doesn\u2019t stop unless there\u2019s 12 to 24 inches of snowfall, and even then, the expectation is that you show up. That mindset stuck with me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I finished school at the University of Massachusetts while working for a major global military defense contractor. Around that time, I also had to make space for my physical and mental health. What started as a single yoga class turned into a passion for bodybuilding. For the past 15 years, I\u2019ve maintained a disciplined lifestyle, clean eating, training six days a week, and competing in bodybuilding competitions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The summer of 2021 marked another pivotal turn. I moved back to Texas and began training at\u00a0Metroflex\u00a0in Arlington. That summer was full of competitions and multiple first-place finishes.\u00a0Along the way,\u00a0I\u2019ve\u00a0been fortunate to meet and learn from legends in\u00a0the sport\u00a0and to build friendships I deeply value. These days, my joy comes less from personal accolades and more from helping others prepare, grow, and believe in themselves. Still, something was\u00a0pulling at\u00a0me.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt a constant tug to return to Houston, to the Heights, to the places I once lived with my father. I lived just a mile from downtown for two years. It was close, but it wasn\u2019t home. For months, I found myself driving to Galveston almost every weekend. And every time, something happened just before reaching the causeway. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The air changed.
I could breathe.
The tension melted away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My heart knew before my mind did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when I understood: Galveston wasn\u2019t just familiar, it was home. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today, we live on the Seawall, where I watch the sun rise and set over the same ocean that shaped my childhood. I now bring my grandchildren to that very beach, the same one my father once took me to, and it\u2019s become part of their story too. Maybe one day, they\u2019ll feel that same pull and find their way home here as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Galveston is more than a destination. It\u2019s a living, breathing community. A place where people work, raise families, weather storms, and look out for one another. My commitment is to help preserve not just what makes Galveston beautiful for visitors, but what makes it livable, resilient, and welcoming for those of us who call it home. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This island gave me perspective, strength, and peace when I needed it most. Serving this community is how I hope to honor that gift. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Next, I’ll talk more about what living here has taught me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Some places live in you long before you ever realize it. As a little boy growing up in Missouri, my summers were spent visiting my father in Texas. He lived in Houston then, and among many chapters of his life, as a nurse, a hairstylist, and so much more, he spoke of being a beach…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-133","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n