Good NEIGHBOURS

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THE SUNSHINE MAYOR

BY Cathy Free FROM THE WASHINGTON POST

ALMOST EIGHT YEARS ago, Al Nixon decided to begin each day from a bench with a spectacular view of the St. Petersburg, Florida, waterfront.

“I call it ʻlife rising' because watching a sunrise makes me feel centered before starting my day," said Nixon, who works for the city's water department.

A year later, a woman stopped to say hello, and she said something that changed his perspective on his daily ritual. "She said, “You know, every morning when I see you sitting here, I know that everything is going to be OK,” Nixon recalled. “That's when I knew: I needed to pay attention to the people walking past. I needed to make eye contact and let people know that we mattered to each other."

Instead of staring straight ahead at the waterfront, Nixon started smiling at people and striking up conversations. And pretty soon, more than a few early risers began joining him on the bench, sometimes unburdening themselves, asking him for advice about relationships, careers, and personal problems.

“I was happy to listen,” Nixon, 59, said. “I wanted them to walk away knowing they didn't have to feel alone. When you're in your 50s and 60s or beyond, a lot of people feel their purpose hasn't been fulfilled. At this stage in life, this is definitely my purpose.”

So, every morning, weather permitting, Nixon, who has three grown children and a long-term significant other, rises at 4:30. He puts on a fedora, sips a cup of coffee, then drives seven miles to the waterfront, where he'll stay for two hours. His presence and his openness to listen have led some to nickname him the Sunshine Mayor.