Growing up as a military brat, I never really settled down in one place. I learned to adapt and be resilient. Change was always on the horizon. In 1983 when I was a sophomore in high school, that we planted roots in a small city in Ohio.
It was a steel town with a close-knit, diverse community. Moving to a new high school was tough because everyone there knew each other. Trying to join lifelong friend groups as an outsider was a challenge.
Eventually, I found my place and focused on fitting in. So I hung out with friends and did what mid-west high school kids in the 80s do. There wasn’t much emphasis on school; it was just about getting a “C” and passing.
Then, my junior year came, and I had a rude awakening. I noticed everyone was thinking about the future—GPAs, sports scholarships, and college. I realized that my freshman year was a wash because of the move. My sophomore year was spent trying to fit in without much guidance from the counselor on my future. To me, a GPA just meant “Great Planning Asshole!”
The thing is, I don’t remember ever talking to my parents about college. Mr. Jones was an Air Force non-commissioned officer (no college), and Mrs. Jones immigrated to the U.S. and hadn’t been academically focused either. So, it never really came up. It felt like I was destined to figure it out without any planning.
For many of us who didn’t have college plans or grades, the options were limited. I call them the “Three M’s”:
- A job at the mall if you had connections,
- a job at the local steel mill,
- or if not, you just joined the military.
So, in a bit of a panic, I went with what I knew from growing up, which was the military.
In my junior year, I took the ASVAB and scored pretty well, which led me to start chatting with recruiters. All I knew was that I was a big fan of airplanes. But I also felt like I’d already “been there, done that” with the Air Force. Then came the Navy, who were really pushing their nuclear program. But the thought of being on a submarine didn’t even sound appealing to me. The Army offered me a chance to join as an enlisted person, become a warrant officer, and fly helicopters. It sounded too good to be true, though.
Finally, I checked out the Marines. Sure, they had a tough reputation, but they also offered something that seemed both reasonable and cool. I was an aircraft weapons system specialist for the F-18 Hornet fighter. They didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms, but they did offer me that.
So, on my 16th birthday, I convinced my mom to sign me up for the delayed entry program. My path after high school was clear, and my senior year was a breeze. Off I went to boot camp on September 12th, 1985, just two months after graduation, at the age of 17.
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