I grew up in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area from the 1st grade onward. I was an ordinary kid with average grades in what any 5 year old would believe to be a normal household. By the time I hit the 7th grade my parents divorced and I began to realize my situation was a bit different. My brothers and sister were significantly older, so it was mostly just my mother and I from that point forward.
I kept up a solid C+ average throughout high school before attending Wake Forest University on an athletic scholarship in 1985.
After two years of beating my body and brains on the football field, I decided there had to be a more enjoyable way to pay for college. Weeks before the mandatory return date, I informed my position coach that I would not be returning for the 1987 fall semester or, for that fact, any other semester in North Carolina.
I sat out of classes that fall and worked for Ogden Allied Aviation Services at Washington National Airport. That daily tarmac grind hastened my return to collegiate life in the Spring of 1988. I enrolled at George Mason University with high hopes of dictating my life, free from the rigors and requirements of division I athletics.
A funny thing happened, though.
The Wake Forest football routine was so engrained, that tempo spilled over into my George Mason University academic life. I structured my days around a strict schedule of classes, study times, a job, and workouts. But it was my routine, not what somebody else forced me to follow.
And low and behold, my academic achievements at George Mason were the highest I’d ever attained. Not to mention, I actually enjoyed the whole process. I graduated in the summer of 1990 on the dean’s list with a B.A. in Psychology and a member of the Psychology National Honor Society, Psi Chi. A step up from my high school academic mediocrity.
I flooded the job market with resumes, but truly wanted to work in law enforcement. I didn’t want to sit behind a desk and I thought this was a field where I could truly make a difference. After a long series of applications, tests, and interviews with a variety of agencies, I landed a job with the United States Marshals Service.
A few years later I also landed my wife of 26 years.
I’m pretty certain I would not have mustered the courage to create this website or think anybody would remotely care about my thoughts posted on the worldwide web without her encouragement, advice, and support. Together, we’ve traveled down a road with our share of obstacles overcome, lessens learned, and victories achieved. Most importantly, she gave me 2 amazing, smart, and gifted children.
For the past 30 years I worked for the US Marshals in a variety of positions and places. As that tenure nears its end, I’ve rekindled the fire of writing. Although a Wake Forest professor effectively squashed my initial passion of earning an English degree, I find myself hammering away at a keyboard, while sharing stories and quirky observations.
I hope these stories speak to you. I hope they make you laugh. I hope they make you think. And I hope maybe every once in while they move you to tears.
And that would be, as legendary basketball coach Jim Valvano put it, “one heck of a day.”