Mike Triebsch

 The first time that I met Mike Triebsch was at “The Bristol” restaurant in Louisville.   Ann Feldkamp, Tracey’s friend since their Centre College days, had told my wife that she was “in like” with Mike and wanted us to meet him.  Shortly thereafter, Mike decided to propose to Ann but he wanted to make the moment special by combining it with another one of his passions, which was sailing.  The idea was to take Ann out on the water and raise the sail.  He had written on the sail, “will you marry me?”  But it was a windy day and he couldn’t get the sail up.  Not to be deterred,  Mike proposed to Ann on the dock.  We were at their wedding and it is gratifying to know that the two had just celebrated their thirtieth anniversary.  We have known each other for so long that Ann was Tracey’s maid of honor and they were both the godparents to our youngest daughter.  I always thought of Mike as being the big brother that I never had.

In retirement, Mike became a part time handyman.  He believed that you could do anything that you wanted if you had a lot of self confidence and a little common sense.  For example, Mike removed that load bearing walls from his basement on Cowling Avenue and installed new support beams that he had bought from the hardware store.  The idea was to dig up the old floor, cart out the dirt through the back door, and make more head room in the basement.  Mike said that he spent a sleepless night listening to every creak and groan that the house made, half expecting it to collapse of itself.  It didn’t.  The support beams held and Mike earned a lot of respect for completing this demanding project.  He was always doing things like building a picnic table for use in his back yard, or a ramp for his son, or a play set or my children when they were young.  Mike dove right in on these projects with gusto.

The last time that I saw Mike was at Adam’s graduation party.  He had surgery for a blood clot that morning and he couldn’t get up from his chair.  He had such a big personality that he wouldn’t let his health stand in on a good time.   He smiled through the pain and just seemed glad to be there.

The tragedy of Mike’s early death is that he was finally able to retire after a long and distinguished career.  He had worked at the Louisville Zoo, Louisville Public Media, Olmsted Parks Conservancy, and, for 23 years, he worked in Internal Communications for Toyota.  When his job moved to Dallas, Mike had to move with it and his last years at Toyota meant commuting from Louisville.  Further, Mike had earned his Masters from Bellarmine University, saw his son get his Masters from the University of Louisville, and saw his daughter become a sophomore at Centre College.  It is patently unfair that, just when it was his time to relax and enjoy an easeful retirement, Mike was plagued with the health problems that ultimately took his life.

Mike was proud of the fact that he was a native born Pennsylvanian.  In a casual conversation he would bring up Frank Lloyd Wriight’s “Falling Waters” or talk about how General Braddock was defeated at the Battle of the Monongahela in French and Indian war.  We went skiing together at Seven Springs, Pennsylvania because that is where he went when he was a teenager.  He wasn’t a very good skier when he was young but preferred to sneak in some whiskey and drink on the slopes.  More than anything, however, Mike loved his Pittsburgh Steelers.  I had never been to an NFL game and I decided that I wanted to share the experience with Mike so, two years ago, we drove to Cincinnati to see the Bengals play the Steelers.  In fact, in my last text to Mike, I had written “Go Steelers, Beat the Browns!”  He gave me a “thumbs up” emoji on that one.  

His other interests included hunting, fishing, skiing, and Rock and Roll music.  He was so passionate about hunting that he travelled for over twenty hours to get to Nova Scotia to fulfill his life long dream in of shooting a moose.  It was such a long and desperate trip that David Feldkamp, his brother in law, exclaimed, “You must have hated that moose!”  Mike took me fishing in the back woods of Kentucky one weekend, but we were skunked in that we didn’t catch a single fish.  He said that it was alright because he had been fishing a couple of months before.  He shared a makeshift cabin with a friend.  Arriving late in the evening, he saw that his cabin mate had broken into his foot locker and stolen his bottle of whiskey.  The guy was sitting on the floor, drunk as a monkey, when Mike walked in on him.  Rather than get angry at the theft, like most people would have done, Mike sat down and shared whatever was left in the bottle.  The lesson is that he refused to let a little thing like stolen whiskey get in the way of a good time.  

In conclusion, the image that I like to have of Mike in retirement was of him and his dog, Washburn, driving around the neighborhood to go to the hardware store.  One time, when he saw me sitting in front of my condo building, he stopped to say hello.  Both man and dog looked so happy just to be out and about.  That is the kind of guy that Mike was; full of personality and the kind of guy with whom you would like to share a beer with.  And, almost as if it were scripted, the Steelers defeated their hated rivals, the Raiders, the Sunday following his death.

Four Stages of Retirement

 I heard a TED Talk by Dr. Riley Moynes about “The Four Stages of Retirement” and it really hit home because I can identify with a lot of what the doctor was telling me.  My problem with the four stages is that it sounds like they are complete and separate stages but I think that they overlap quite a bit.  In spite of that, the four stages inspired me to write my thoughts, and check in with myself, on how I am doing since I left the working world.  

My “Vacation” stage of retirement began two years ago when Tracey and I sailed up the Danube River with the U of L Travel Group.  We have taken several trips since then, to places as disparate as Germany, France, Egypt, Israel, and Spain.  Tracey retired a year before I did and, now that we have all of the time in the world and the means to do whatever we want, we decided that we want to travel.  We are planning to visit Southeast Asia, Ireland, and France in the next year and a half.   

One tangential benefit is that we have made several friends from the U of L Travel Group and have even hosted parties for them.  This is important because when I lost my job I also lost all of my friends where I used to work.  They dropped me like a hot potato with spiders on it.  Literally, I didn’t receive a call or a text or an email from anyone from where I used to work.  I didn’t take offense because I knew that once I was out of sight then my old friends would forget about me.  So now I depend on the U of L Travel Group for my social life.  Research suggests that retirement brings a feeling of loneliness and isolation but Tracey and I have found a new tribe to belong to and we can build on our new friendships.

My “Lost and Loss” stage began when I stepped back from being a traditional history teacher to becoming the permanent substitute teacher.  Eventually, I had to give up on my job as a substitute for several reasons.  First of all, I was afraid of falling asleep in front of the kids.  Although this would have been bad, an even worse fear was that I would pee myself in class because I would sometimes work three to four hours without a break.  This scenario never happened because I learned to limit my intake of fluids before the school day began.  My final reason for giving up my job as a substitute was that I had run out of things to do to fill the time.  More and more, I found myself playing games on my iPad and I began to lose respect for myself.  It was time to leave the working world.

Another aspect of the “Lost and Loss” stage was when I lost my career, and self image, as an athlete.  I ran my last half marathon two years ago.  The reason as to why I had to stop running was because whenever I exerted myself, it felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest.  The palpitations began within the first two blocks of the thirteen mile race and it took me about four hours to finish.  It was pure misery and I decided that my racing days are over.  Don’t get me wrong; I had a good career as an athlete, participating in eleven Ironman competitions and over twenty half marathons and felt lucky to walk away unscathed.

Barbara Walters was once asked what it was like to grow old and she replied that “you have to get used to a sense of loss.”  She meant that as you get older you will lose family, friends, and even some of your physical abilities.  I know what she meant because in the last three years my two best friends (Tod Knight and Mike Triebsch) and my sister (Cheryl Burnett) have died.  In sum, I have lost my career, my best friends, and my identity as an athlete.  The “Lost and Loss” stage has been tough but I can take solace in the fact that other people my age are going through the exact same feelings during this stage of life.  

My “Trial and Error” stage began two years ago when I was fired from being the permanent substitute to becoming a substitute on a per diem basis.  I reinvented myself by reading the Bible, writing three books, and reading fiction, something that I would have regarded as a waste of time before I retired.  But, suddenly, I had the time to waste.  I gave up the Bible after working my way through most of the Old Testament because it was repetitive and boring and I wasn’t getting anything out of it.  I don’t write books anymore because no one will read them, so what would be the point, but still keep up a journal and a blog.  I remain an avid reader, however, and subscribe to three newspapers and read a lot of books.  Just because I am retired doesn’t mean that I have to stop learning and I still enjoy the written word.

The “Trial and Error” stage was difficult for my because I failed to develop a  began “Plan B” in my career choice.  IfI had to do it all over again I would have gone back to school to become a counselor or would have picked up a side job to have something to fall back upon.  Instead, I chose a career that gave me no room for advancement or personal growth.  When the principal called me into her office to tell me that the school could no longer afford to keep me around as a permanent substitute, I knew that I was too young to retire but too old to start all over again.  I had to start all over from scratch and am still trying to figure out how to fill the days and nights in retirement.


During the “Rewire and Reinvent” stage, retired people often describe themselves as feeling useless or worthless.  I understand the sentiment but I don’t feel that way.  The thing to do is to avoid the trap of isolationism and depression that often comes with retirement.  Many people find purpose by working part time or volunteering but I don’t want to do that for the same reason as to why I didn’t switch carriers when teaching didn’t pan out; I couldn’t find anything else that I wanted to do.  For now I can satisfy myself with my daily trips to the gym.  These trips keep me socially active and, tangentially, keep me in shape for our next river cruise.  My job is to keep myself up for the long term so that I can be ready for whatever comes next, whether that means grandchildren, buying a dog, or volunteering.

I could not have lived like this ten years ago, just in the same way that I could not do the hard years in my present frame of mind.  It used to be that every minute of every day was scheduled but now I have become used to having ambiguity in my day.  My typical day is to get up early to read and write.  Next, I drive to the gym at 5:00 am to swim for an hour and a half.  This strenuous exercise wipes me so I can calm down, relax, and enjoy the rest of my day.  I’ll drive back to the condo, eat and nap and read the newspaper, and prepare myself for my second work out for the day.  The Louisville Zoo is about a six mile round trip and, when I walk it, the trip takes me about two and a half hours.  That means that four hours of every day is made up of exercise.  Tracey and I go out to eat and then we watch television and that is about it.  But we are both happy.

My “Rewire and Reinvent” stage will be successful if I can suppress my controlling personality and stop worrying about what other people think of me.  I am lucky in that I still have my health and my mind is still sharp.  Where I used to be driven and had to fill each minute of every day with being productive, I can now lose myself in this limbo that I have created for myself.  I have no purpose or direction and I am learning to be fine with that way of life.  Being driven and living a life full of stress almost gave me a heart attack so now I can satisfy myself with taking care of myself and my wife.  My only job is to relax and enjoy my life for as long as the good Lord allows me to live.  Hopefully I will have another 30 years

In conclusion, I have learned to accept my new life and to separate myself from what I like to call “The Hard Years.”  These years were when the kids were young and needy, when we had to put my mother into the nursing home against her will, and when I was going through the process of being fired from a job that I enjoyed.

Finally, I read an article that stated that once retirees get to be 70 then they are over talking about the end of their careers and death.  Old people simply want to enjoy their remaining time on this earth.  I think that Mel Brooks put it the best when he was asked in a recent interview how he spends his time.  Brooks is in his nineties and his succinct reply was “I still enjoy eggs and toast for breakfast and roast beef for dinner.”  That’s it.  That was all that it took to make Mel Brooks happy.  The lesson to be learned from his response is that we don’t need a lot of things in retirement and our attitude should be to appreciate the simple act of living.  And maybe to share our joy with a friend or two.