Anthony Kuhn

I think there's always a bit of that going on with me. But I think where this really started for me was about 16 years ago. I had a bit of a health scare, which thankfully I recovered from. I was also mourning the loss of my dad. And I guess you could say that I was coming to terms with this idea that there's a lot more of my life behind me

then ahead of me and I'm thinking for the first time, what do I really wanna do with the time that remains? And I became intrigued with stories of people who found ways to reinvent themselves late in life in interesting and inspirational ways.

then ahead of me and I'm thinking for the first time, what do I really wanna do with the time that remains? And I became intrigued with stories of people who found ways to reinvent themselves late in life in interesting and inspirational ways.

then ahead of me and I'm thinking for the first time, what do I really wanna do with the time that remains? And I became intrigued with stories of people who found ways to reinvent themselves late in life in interesting and inspirational ways.

And just when I was dialing into this idea, Catherine Seeley of the New York Times reported a great story about a man who began this third act journey in a really fascinating way. And that story really helped launch this project.

And just when I was dialing into this idea, Catherine Seeley of the New York Times reported a great story about a man who began this third act journey in a really fascinating way. And that story really helped launch this project.

And just when I was dialing into this idea, Catherine Seeley of the New York Times reported a great story about a man who began this third act journey in a really fascinating way. And that story really helped launch this project.

Yeah, so his name is Tom Andrew, and he worked a full career as a doctor, including 20 years as the chief medical examiner for New Hampshire, which is where I live. Tom saw it all up close, Aisha. You know, the grim toll of car accidents, of gunshot wounds, poisonings, assaults, and suicides. You name it, he saw it.

Yeah, so his name is Tom Andrew, and he worked a full career as a doctor, including 20 years as the chief medical examiner for New Hampshire, which is where I live. Tom saw it all up close, Aisha. You know, the grim toll of car accidents, of gunshot wounds, poisonings, assaults, and suicides. You name it, he saw it.

Yeah, so his name is Tom Andrew, and he worked a full career as a doctor, including 20 years as the chief medical examiner for New Hampshire, which is where I live. Tom saw it all up close, Aisha. You know, the grim toll of car accidents, of gunshot wounds, poisonings, assaults, and suicides. You name it, he saw it.

He said it was a job that gave him a particular appreciation for the fragility of life, And he remained committed to his work until the opioid crisis hit New Hampshire hard. And he told me that he watched too many kids, too many young people die, and that he didn't feel that the state was taking the epidemic seriously enough.

He said it was a job that gave him a particular appreciation for the fragility of life, And he remained committed to his work until the opioid crisis hit New Hampshire hard. And he told me that he watched too many kids, too many young people die, and that he didn't feel that the state was taking the epidemic seriously enough.

He said it was a job that gave him a particular appreciation for the fragility of life, And he remained committed to his work until the opioid crisis hit New Hampshire hard. And he told me that he watched too many kids, too many young people die, and that he didn't feel that the state was taking the epidemic seriously enough.

And eventually, Tom just had enough. And in 2017, at the age of 61, he quit. He'd done the job for 20 years, so he retired.

And eventually, Tom just had enough. And in 2017, at the age of 61, he quit. He'd done the job for 20 years, so he retired.

And eventually, Tom just had enough. And in 2017, at the age of 61, he quit. He'd done the job for 20 years, so he retired.

No, not at all. You know, he could have followed that route. He could have retired, put his feet up, cruised into old age. But instead, he goes back to school. He's a man of faith. So he goes to seminary school to become a Methodist deacon because what he wants to do is work with his local Boy Scout troop. So here's a bit of what he told me about that.

No, not at all. You know, he could have followed that route. He could have retired, put his feet up, cruised into old age. But instead, he goes back to school. He's a man of faith. So he goes to seminary school to become a Methodist deacon because what he wants to do is work with his local Boy Scout troop. So here's a bit of what he told me about that.

No, not at all. You know, he could have followed that route. He could have retired, put his feet up, cruised into old age. But instead, he goes back to school. He's a man of faith. So he goes to seminary school to become a Methodist deacon because what he wants to do is work with his local Boy Scout troop. So here's a bit of what he told me about that.

Yeah, he really, and this animates a lot of the stories that I found. He wanted to give back is really a good way to put it. And it's worth pointing out that becoming a full-fledged deacon is a long process. It involves not only seminary school, but studying and sitting for interviews with church elders. And Tom was still at it just a couple of years ago at the age of 66 when I was talking to him.