Archive for the ‘tioga george’ tag
I frequently read the blog by ‘Tioga George.’
Tioga George is a pseudonym made up from the brand name of the recreational vehicle he lives in full time concatenated to his real first name.
For 8 years he’s been traveling full time in his Class C RV he calls ‘Ms. Tioga.’ He writes his blog almost daily, connecting to the Internet via Hughes geosynchronous satellites using his MotoSat brand Internet two-way dish, like the one I had on my my MCI bus conversion I sold in January, 2011. Note I removed the MotoSat dish before I sold the MCI so that I can recycle it on my RTS bus conversion I’m in the middle of building.
George makes a substantial part of his income from Google AdSense advertisements that appear alongside his blog posts about his travels. I admire how he has turned his passion for full time travel into a dependable income. It’s also been a dependable source of new friends and new adventures, as he often meets his readers in person after they’ve gotten to know him via his blog posts.
On April 11, 2011, George wrote an entry that illunimated his life more than any other post he’s written. I feel that I understand him better having read this post. The post was so moving that I’ve decided to share it with you here by copying it verbatim. I have also linked to it as well. If you read this account, please click on the link so George will get the traffic as well. I chose to copy the text so that more of my readers read it, and to make sure that I have it here for decades to come, in the event George’s blog should go offline. I have emailed George asking for permission to reprint his post, but he writes that he’s terribly backed up on replying to emails. I will delete his text below if he later replies and for some reason does not grant publication permission. I consider George to be a friend, and we’ve exchanged occasional emails for years, so I’m pretty sure he will welcome my republishing his moving remarks.
Monday, April 11, 2011:
A couple of mornings ago I was lying in bed and thinking about 1995. That was the year that I went to live in my son David’s home. I was dead broke, and desperately in need of help. David’s home was tiny in 1995. He had foster kids living with him and no bedroom for me. So, he gave me some space on the floor of his dining room. My son David helped me several times since 1995. David let me use his home address for my home address. When I became an RVer, David received my mail for seven years while I was on the road. David let me stay with him whenever I returned to California. He never refused to help me.
It took me almost a year after moving in with David in 1995 to get on my financial feet once again. I got a job in a cabinet shop as an apprentice cabinet maker in 1996. At 58 years old, I was an apprentice once more. I rented a room in a home a couple of blocks from the cabinet shop and lived there for five years. During this time I lived like a monk, saving all the money that I could. By the time that I had overcome cancer in 2003, there was enough money to buy and equip MsTioga.
Yesterday I wrote to you that on March 28, 1984, my life fell apart. Actually, looking back at that date, this was the pinnacle of my life to that point. My wife and I owned two fast food restaurants. I managed one, she the other. We owned a lovely home in Walnut Creek, California. But I had a screw loose someplace, and that screw caused me great difficulty in relationships with others. On the morning of March 28th, some kids went by my home on skateboards knocking over garbage cans as they went down the street. I took after them on my bicycle, wearing only my pajamas! When I caught up with these kids, my bike’s front wheel hit a sprinkler head which leaned over the sidewalk. I somersaulted over the handle bar and landed in the street. I had broken my hip and wrist!
Everything went downhill after that accident. My wife divorced me several months later. And I went into a funk that lasted ten years. Wow! Because I did not attend to my restaurant business properly, the business began to lose money. I was forced to sell first one restaurant, and then a few years later the second was sold. I got a job selling AutoCAD software and did really well for about two years. But during the recession of 1991, the company I worked for folded. I remained unemployed from 1992 to 1996.
I wanted to share this part of my life with you to put into perspective what my son David’s support meant to me. And why David’s passing has impacted my life so very much.
George’s son David committed suicide last year, and George remains devastated.
I am sorry for his loss.
George, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for your tragic loss. Thank you for sharing the story that so effectively explains the man you have become. I’m sure Dave and your living son are very proud of you.