Officer or enlisted, the question is usually the same: how did you end up a cryptologist when you had no idea what it actually meant?  What’s your story?

Here’s my story:

I was 21 years old in 1983, living in Detroit, working as a stock boy and dishwasher at a downtown hotel. The economy was collapsing, and every day felt heavier than the one before it. I had been dating my girlfriend for 11 months, and while our relationship was strong and full of hope, my future felt anything but certain. I loved her deeply, yet I couldn’t see a clear path forward—for myself or for us.

In December 1983, Detroit was hit by a winter storm unlike anything I had ever experienced. The temperature dropped to nearly 30 degrees below zero. Pipes burst across the city, including at the hotel where I worked. When the hotel finally shut down, I helped move frozen food out of the freezers, my hands numb from the cold and my mind racing with questions about what came next.

When I finished, I stood outside in that brutal cold and looked across the street at the Federal Building. I knew the military recruiters were inside. I didn’t have a plan—just a feeling that if I stayed where I was, my life would keep shrinking instead of growing. So I crossed the street.

On Monday, January 2, 1984, I walked into that massive building for the first time. The recruiters’ offices were right near the entrance, impossible to miss. The Army and Air Force were on one side, the Marines and Navy on the other. I didn’t weigh my options or compare benefits. I walked into the Navy office because it was closest—and because, in that moment, closeness felt like fate.

I told the recruiter the truth: “I need to get out of Detroit as soon as possible.”

He told me I had to take the ASVAB first.

I took the test that same day, sitting alone in his office. I hadn’t been a great student in high school, but I remembered enough from my basic electronics classes to get by. A few days later, the recruiter called me back. He offered me ET, CTM, or CTR/CTT. The acronyms meant nothing to me, but for the first time in a long while, I felt something I hadn’t felt in months—possibility.

He explained ET. Then CTM. When I asked about CTR/CTT, even he couldn’t fully explain it—only that it required a security clearance. There was mystery in that answer, and somehow that mystery spoke to me. My life already felt uncertain; I decided I could live with a little more unknown if it meant moving forward so I chose CTR/CTT.

That day, I signed the contract. Seven days later—January 9, 1984—I would leave for boot camp.

When I told my girlfriend what I had done, she didn’t hesitate. She supported me completely. On the day I shipped out, she stood there with me, steady and strong, even though both of us knew everything was about to change. I still remember kissing her before stepping onto the bus at MEPS, not knowing when I’d see her again, but knowing I was carrying her love with me.

At Corry Station, training to become a CT, we stayed connected the only ways we could—letters and phone calls. I was young, inexperienced, and far from home, but I could already see a future in the Navy. More than that, I could see her in that future. I didn’t want this journey without her.

One day in March, I was standing at a payphone on the second deck of Building 1082, my heart pounding as I worked up the courage to ask her to marry me. Just as I was about to say the words, the fire alarm blared and everyone had to evacuate the building. The moment vanished in an instant—but somehow, she already knew.

When the all-clear was given, I called her back. This time, nothing interrupted me. I asked her to marry me.

She said yes.

On November 2 1984, I graduated CTR “A” school on board NTTC Corry Station and on the 17th we married in Detroit.

Looking back now, more than four decades later, I realize how fragile and powerful those moments were—how close I came to a very different life, and how a single walk across a frozen street changed everything.

Forty-one years later, we are still married.

The Good Lord has blessed me!