LETTER #16
Sam Shelton, Mechanical Engineer & Olympic Torch Designer
In the summer of 1996, I moved from Portland, OR to Atlanta, GA. I was 32 and ready for a change of cities. My Aunt Sharon and Uncle Sam kindly offered for me to land at their place for awhile and see about making their city my new home. So, I grabbed my guitar, some clothes, and a box of journals. I packed up my Chevy—recently inherited from my beloved Granddaddy who died that spring—and hit the road with an attitude of 'I am Woman, Hear Me Roar!'
I listened to Indigo Girls on repeat and cried every time ‘Secure Yourself to Heaven’ came around. I stopped along the way to visit my Aunt Be and my first-cousin-once-removed Beverley. One thing I know about Southern families is they tend to stay in touch; they know exactly how they are related to each other; and they are always ready to offer a meal or a place to stay.
Sam and Sharon lived in a high rise in Midtown. Living with them was a massive change from the one-bedroom apartment I shared with my boyfriend Tyler and four cats at that time. The window in the bedroom they offered me looked out on the bright lights of downtown Atlanta. I felt like anything was possible! The Sheltons provided me a soft landing for this new chapter in my life.
Uncle Sam engineered the Olympic torch that year and my Aunt Sharon was in charge of the volunteers. So, I had the opportunity to volunteer for a few events and attend several with the Shelton family. Atlanta was buzzing. Athletes were everywhere—on MARTA, in the restaurants, just making themselves part of the city. At one point, I stood in line at iHOP next to Kareem Abdul Jabbar!
It was magical. And it was also the year of the Centennial Olympic Park bombings. I’m not going to get into that here. I do have stories, but this is a dedication to my Uncle Sam, who is truly an inspiration.
In addition to the Olympics, that year the Matisse exhibit from New York’s MoMA was at the High Museum, right across the street from their building. We spent time there. I loved his cut paper pieces The Swimming Pool and most especially, Nuit de Noel. So, I thought I’d try my hand a cut paper art and made this card for Uncle Sam.
There are two lessons that I learned from him:
“Every decade gets better, so stop worrying about those numbers”. Your 30s are better than your 20s, your 40s are better than your 30s, your 50s are better than your 40s, and your 60s are better than your 50s—I have to say he is correct about that so far in terms of my lived experience.
"Make a choice and just do that thing. If it doesn't work out, you can always make another choice." I fully lean into this! I can commit to a decision, and if things hit a wall or the energy required to push through feels as though I am forcing my agenda rather than letting events unfold naturally, I stop, assess, and make another choice.
Those two simple lessons have shaped how I approach everything—from career changes to relationships to trying new things that scare me. Uncle Sam didn't just give me advice; he modeled a way of being in the world that's both optimistic and practical. At 88 now, he is living with Parkinson’s and dementia in an assisted living facility. My cousins are supporting him in this last phase of his life. My mom talks to him occasionally. I wonder sometimes if he remembers those lessons and how they apply to him today.
The generation ahead of me is in their last season. We've lost all the grandparents and many aunts and uncles. On my mom's side, she, Aunt Be, and Uncle Sam are the last of their crew, with us seven cousins next in line. That summer in Atlanta was supposed to be about finding a new city, but what I really found was a blueprint for living—one that embraces change and believes every chapter can be better than the last. Twenty-eight years later, I'm still following that blueprint, and I hope those lessons have taken root in the generations coming up behind us too.
This letter is part of a weekly series called Analog Connections. Each week I create and handwrite a letter to someone that is on my mind and post it here. I hope you enjoy getting to know some of the amazing humans in my life!
THIS!! "Make a choice and just do that thing. If it doesn't work out, you can always make another choice."
You've certainly lived an interesting life so far, Mel! I resonate with each decade having been better than the last. Speaking of which, Matisse started making his paper cutout artworks quite late in life when he could no longer wield a paintbrush -- and to my personal taste, those works are the most appealing ones he ever did. He turned limitation into inspiration. I have a poster print of one of his cutouts on my wall, and in fact it's the only work by a "famous artist" that I have in my house.