The Man, The Myth, The Granpa
Four years into retirement, former Sheriff David Shoar reflects on service, slowing down, and what matters most.
It’s been four years since Sheriff David Shoar hung up his badge, closing the chapter on more than four decades of law enforcement. But make no mistake—he takes his new role just as seriously as the last one. We caught up with him to hear what life looks like after a lifetime of public service.
David says:
Most of my days now revolve around faith, family, and soaking in the slower rhythm of Island living. I stay involved with a few close community groups and friends, and I finally have time for the things I used to put off—like reading, writing, and just being present. I’m truly blessed to have my entire family, including our extended crew, right in the center of it all.
I’ll be honest—retirement wasn’t exactly smooth. After decades of structure and high-stakes responsibility, slowing down felt foreign. But with the support of my family and some real spiritual growth, I’ve settled into this new chapter with gratitude. Funny enough, I used to give speeches on “life balance” all the time… but I don’t think I really understood how important it is, until I retired.
My wife, Laura, and I recently completed a long-time dream: building our quintessential St. Augustine Beach home. She’s lived on Anastasia Island since 1972, and I’ve called it home since 1985—so yes, we’re true Island dwellers. Our dress code reflects it: shorts, light shirts, and Kino’s (or no shoes at all).
The true heartbeat of our days now? Our grandkids. Huntly is 5½ and Hayes is 2½, and having them in our daily lives has been nothing short of transformative. They’ve brought a whole new meaning to gratitude. And I proudly go by “Poppy” now—maybe my favorite role yet.
Over the years, I held plenty of titles, but every time I came home, Laura made sure I was promptly returned to my rank as Private First Class. I married one of the world’s best ego-deflaters—and thank God I did.
We’ve spent all our married years right here on the Island. Laura’s family even ran a beloved restaurant on Anastasia Boulevard for many years. This place is part of our story. When we cross the bridge back onto the Island, everything just feels a little lighter, a little less complicated. That’s the magic of it. And for us, it’s home.
I’ll be honest—retirement wasn’t exactly smooth. After decades of structure and high-stakes responsibility, slowing down felt foreign. But with the support of my family and some real spiritual growth, I’ve settled into this new chapter with gratitude. Funny enough, I used to give speeches on “life balance” all the time… but I don’t think I really understood how important it is, until I retired.
My wife, Laura, and I recently completed a long-time dream: building our quintessential St. Augustine Beach home. She’s lived on Anastasia Island since 1972, and I’ve called it home since 1985—so yes, we’re true Island dwellers. Our dress code reflects it: shorts, light shirts, and Kino’s (or no shoes at all).
The true heartbeat of our days now? Our grandkids. Huntly is 5½ and Hayes is 2½, and having them in our daily lives has been nothing short of transformative. They’ve brought a whole new meaning to gratitude. And I proudly go by “Poppy” now—maybe my favorite role yet.
Over the years, I held plenty of titles, but every time I came home, Laura made sure I was promptly returned to my rank as Private First Class. I married one of the world’s best ego-deflaters—and thank God I did.
We’ve spent all our married years right here on the Island. Laura’s family even ran a beloved restaurant on Anastasia Boulevard for many years. This place is part of our story. When we cross the bridge back onto the Island, everything just feels a little lighter, a little less complicated. That’s the magic of it. And for us, it’s home.
Four years into retirement, David Shoar has found what most only hope for: peace, purpose, and a life rooted in what matters most. Whether he’s chasing toddlers or watching the tide roll in, he’s still serving in his own way—quietly, fully, and with a whole lot of gratitude.
Four years into retirement, David Shoar has found what most only hope for: peace, purpose, and a life rooted in what matters most. Whether he’s chasing toddlers or watching the tide roll in, he’s still serving in his own way—quietly, fully, and with a whole lot of gratitude.