My New Home

Published: Thursday, May 30, 2013 at 10:14 AM.

With their help and assistance, we made several trips back and forth in search of a second house.  Each trip back expanded the network of friends even more, solidifying our intention to find someplace, somewhere to call our own. We found it in beautiful Port St. Joe, a little cottage we now call The Blown Inn. We couldn’t be happier.

I know it is a cliché, but I guess it is true. Home is where the heart is. For me, I leave mine on the front porch of The Blown Inn every time we pull back out for Georgia. I’m pretty sure, my wife does too.

Looking back, I think about that wrong turn. I think about the time spent going the wrong way. I think about the old fisherman and his words. Then I think about how things might have turned out had we not ended up in Mexico Beach, how the timing might have changed, and how our night at the Raw Bar might have been different, changing the path that would ultimately bring us to where we are today. 

It was as I said, a fortuitous series of events, and it all started with a wrong turn. Maybe that phone isn’t so dumb after all.

 

Kirk S. Jockell

Port St. Joe



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