Ten Years as a Savannah Tour Guide: What I’ve Actually Learned

Ten years. Somewhere north of a thousand tours. Probably fifty thousand people through the streets of this city — give or take — since I first put on the kilt and picked up the mic in a professional context. I’ve done this in August heat that would make a sensible person weep, in January cold that Savannah locals act personally offended by, in rain that turned the cobblestones on River Street into something approaching a luge run.

Here’s what a decade actually teaches you.

The best guests ask the questions they’re embarrassed to ask

Every tour has someone who’s clearly dying to ask something they think sounds dumb. It never sounds dumb. “Why do the streets go in that pattern?” “What’s the deal with all the Spanish moss — is it actually Spanish?” “Why do so many buildings have those little doors up high with no stairs?” These are great questions. Ask them. Your guide will light up. The people around you will be relieved you asked.

The city is the guide

The best thing I do on any given tour is shut up at the right moments and let Savannah speak. A well-timed pause in the right square, the sound of the river on a still night, the way the light moves through the cemetery oaks at dusk — no amount of storytelling beats letting someone actually feel where they are. My job is context. Savannah’s job is the experience.

The paranormal element is real, but it requires patience

I’ve been a paranormal researcher since I was sixteen. I came to this work skeptical and I remain rigorous. But after a decade of active investigation in this city — on tours, on private investigations, on solo midnight research sessions — I’m convinced Savannah is genuinely anomalous. Not in the pop-culture ghost-show sense. In a quieter, more consistent, harder-to-explain sense. The city has layers that reward serious attention.

The kilt is a conversation starter. It’s also a filter.

I wear a kilt every day. Have for years. It started as a practical and cultural thing and became, in this context, a useful tool. The people who are immediately put off by it were probably going to be difficult tour guests anyway. The people who immediately want to know the story are almost always the ones who make a tour worth showing up for. Authenticity recognizes authenticity. Savannah runs on that principle too.

Savannah keeps teaching me things

That’s the final thing. Ten years in and this city still hands me new information on a regular basis — a document I haven’t seen, a building I hadn’t looked at closely enough, a local who remembers something that never made it into the official record. The research never stops. The city never runs out of material.

I can’t imagine doing anything else. Which, if you’ve been on one of my tours, probably doesn’t surprise you at all.