As I look back on my life and career, there several things I look back on and feel like they were really important. September 9th, 1980, was a red letter day for me. Any success I achieved over the last 45 years can be traced directly back to that day. It began with high winds and torrential rains from Tropical Storm Danielle over Lackland Air Force Base, where I had just completed Officer Training School (OTS) for the United States Air Force. In the 90 days since my arrival, I had been transformed from a long-haired civilian into an extremely young and inexperienced military officer - otherwise known as a 2nd Lieutenant, a "butter bars" or, if you come from OTS, a "90-Day Wonder".
The parade that had been scheduled to mark the commissioning of Officer Training School Class 80-15 was officially cancelled, so we received our commissions and 2nd Lt. insignia in the nondescript barracks classrooms and were told that we should expedite our travel plans as the weather was getting worse. There would be no fancy parade, speeches or throwing our caps into the air for us; just some quick handshakes, a few hugs, and a Captain pinning on my brand new butter bars. Then, we all packed and left for our technical training assignments. For me, that meant Aircraft Maintenance Officers Course at Chanute, AFB in Rantoul, Illinois.
I was OK with the ceremony being cancelled, as I’ve never been much for ceremonial pomp and circumstance. Marching and drill practice weren't my best skills either. My parents had offered to come down to see the parade and commissioning, but I told them it would be ridiculously hot, and they wouldn’t really see much from the reviewing stands. Lucky for them, they didn’t drive the almost 1,200 miles just to get washed out by a tropical storm.
My stint as a military officer didn’t result from a long held dream or even any great streak of patriotism. In the bleak job market of 1979 - the year I graduated from Western Illinois University - it looked like the best of several less than impressive opportunities. I could have managed a sporting goods department for K-Mart or a bowling alley somewhere in Iowa. But the call of fighter jets sounded more enticing than either of those options, or even the union carpenter job that I held in college (one, among many jobs along my path).
I had no idea how those years would shape my career as I started. My flightline years gave me leadership responsibilities that most people don’t see until at least 20 years into a civilian career. I took MBA classes from Golden Gate University at night in trailer classrooms. Uncle Sam paid for them, and I got the degree. I got to be a part of transitioning the 58th Tactical Training Wing from F-4C fighter jets to the brand new F-16’s, working with logistics experts from Wright Patterson Air Force Base and engineers and support personnel from General Dynamics. It was the most amazing engineering training curriculum you could imagine. Best of all, I got to work with, under and for, many outstanding leaders, who taught me what real leadership and integrity are. That included both non-commissioned and commissioned officers as well as civilians.
When I separated from the Air Force in 1984 (a horrible decision on my part), I left as an experienced military officer, which is the best calling card in the world when looking for a job. I remember one interview where a top VP looked at me sternly and told me that the job I was interviewing for would have a lot of stress. He asked me very directly how I handled stress. I smiled and told him that I was trained to make hard decisions when bullets were flying and people were dying. Then I asked him what kind of stress they had. He told me that was the best answer he’d ever heard. I got the job.
Every job I’ve held over the last 45 years can be traced back to a rainy day on September 9th, 1980. I am a ridiculously lucky and immensely fortunate guy to have been blessed with that incredible experience. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. To be honest, I wish that they took old bald guys. I’d go back again in a heartbeat.
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