The Coast Guard held a retirement ceremony for me on June 21st at our Headquarters in Washington, D.C. It was presided over by Captain Ben Davis and Captain (retired) Eric Johnson, two men I worked for and appreciated on personal and professional levels. Below is the text of my speech which a few have asked me to share. A video of the speech is at the bottom of the page. I'll note I skipped a paragraph accidentally. I did not adjust the text to reflect finally delivery. I'm also sharing the slideshow my family put together. Enjoy!~Joe
The first thing I remember was the ship’s medic holding an ice pack to my head. I knew where I was but not what had happened - and I could tell from the medic’s face that he was concerned. When the doctor entered the infirmary, the medic - trying not to alarm me - whispered something into the Doc’s ear. But then the doctor patted him on the shoulder, and smiled, and then said to the medic “No, it’s OK. His eye was already like that.”
A few minute earlier, on the deck of the Coast Guard Tallship Eagle, a half dozen classmates and I had been pulling together on a large rope in order to raise a large sail. I was the person in the front, closest to the pulley, so my job was to yell “heave” before we would all yell “ho” while pulling the rope in unison to raise the sail…I clearly had not entered my sea shanty phase, so heaves and hos was all I had to offer.
On one of those “hos” the pulley broke loose and struck me on the top of my head. I do not remember the incident except coming to with the medic standing over me in the infirmary. Fortunately, the doctor, Doc Boquard, also helped with the Academy soccer team so he knew that the pulley had not detached my retina, as the concern medic thought, but rather that I had been born with a lazy eye.
One time on the soccer field, Dr. Boquard asked me “How do you play sports with no depth perception?” I could only reply, “Not very well.” He explained how my brain probably supplements for how my eyes view things differently. Another time he asked, “How did you pass the medical test to get into the Academy?” I did not have an answer - perhaps I guessed right on the test. How interesting is the narrow knife of fate. I like to think that any school that taught both celestial navigation and surveying, skills that required using only one-eye, maybe was the right place for me.
But Doc asked a fair question. How did I get into the Coast Guard Academy? How I did I end up in the Coast Guard? The truth is I have do not have a cool Coast Guard origin story. I cannot point to a family member who served in the Coast Guard, or some childhood memory that inspired me to consider the Coast Guard. I didn’t even get accepted off the wait list until 15 days before my classmates and I reported to New London in 1997 - again that narrow margin of fate again.
And I only got on the wait-list in the first place because my New England parents knew about the school and “encouraged” me to apply. But, let me be clear, I am so much better for it. So thank you Mom - and Dad - for that and so many gifts you gave me, and sacrificed to give, to me and all your children.
Another interesting truth is that I don’t even have many cool Coast Guard stories. Classmates and colleagues spent far more time at sea, or flying aircraft, and can recount lives saved or drugs busted among their achievements. This is amazing, and I’m so proud of them - honestly. How lucky are we to serve our nation in such a noble and public serving manner…and those in operations often sacrifice a lot and in turn deserve a lot of credit.
But my career has been in support of those Coast Guard operations. My first 3 assignments were operational units, but in engineering support roles. And I spent the second half of my career in regional and national staff jobs even more removed from those front lines. In all I did naval engineering, civil engineering, environmental and safety work, real estate, IT, finance, communications, and change management. If I have one professional hope, it is that the work I did and the work I lead made the lives of our operators better - or at least shielded them from bad ideas, that often took the form of PPT somewhere in this building.
One notable thing I have done for the CG is bring my unique way of viewing things to our professional tasks. You see, in addition to my issues with depth perception, as many people here today know, I also see situations and think about solutions pretty differently. This is what happens when a rabidly curious, extroverted, and intuitive (probably ADHD) person is allowed, encouraged, even ordered, to dabble in many career specialities and projects.
I enjoy porting lessons from the various jobs I’ve done, from things I’ve read, and from people I’ve met…and using them to find a new way of approaching problems. I’m even told it is helpful, that people like hearing my new ideas…and it allowed me to get involved in some pretty interesting and highly visible work…and some of that work earned me wonderful awards and recognitions.
But, now, as I cast my eye back over 20 years, I find my proudest professional moments are actually the quieter encounters with people who I could help and in the normal routines of support and maintenance. This is the very necessary, but not flashy work, our organization depends on - and that I increasingly appreciate. And in these routine moments, in these boring trenches of bureaucracy, I came to know and admire so many good people who spend their entire careers doing that type of support, and often without the recognition they deserve.
Yes, my divergent eye and divergent mind did not find some inspirational or entertaining story to tell you about why I got into the Coast Guard, or even one from my career. It came up with preventive maintenance. This is a problem - this doesn’t make for a good speech. I'm sorry!
You see, those who know me also know I’ve expected to retire this summer for 8 years. It was part of our family’s plan. That’s a long time to consider what to say…and I love considering what to say. The spectrum of options included railing against our Coast Guard’s obsession with innovation theater to a full-on musical number. No I’m not kidding. Sea shanties and poems were all on the table.
But as I settled my thoughts, and that takes some doing, I knew what needed to be expressed the most, was simply gratitude. A military retirement like this is such a unique mid-life and mid-career opportunity to pause and to express that gratitude - and maybe for things not normally appreciated. That is the power of traditions. They ground you in what is necessary and what is time tested.
So it is in that mind that I speak today…with a declared love for my fellow support people in those boring trenches…and standing on the shoulders of many who have supported me. I speak to thank those on whose support I relied on over the years.
I’ll start by thanking all of you who came today - admirals, shipmates, shoremates, and friends - you are, and you represent, the many good people in this good organization that I’ve enjoyed getting to know. You’ve helped me and taught me and my only hope is I have returned the favor. May your meetings and workdays end on time…may you find time to read for pleasure, to play sports at work, to sing salty sea shanties, to appreciate birds and creation, and spend time with those you love…that’s what it is all about.
From my Academy days, I’d like to thank the wardroom staff who kept my table stocked with an industrial size container of fluff - those ladies were wonderful. And of course my classmates from 2001, with our high attrition rate at school but oddly high retention rate since then. Special mention goes to Brook Sherman who, for reason involving statutes of limitations, I MUST remain friends with. And my many classmates here today…to you, I can say confidently, that we are forever bound to each other - sorry, and thank you for your enduring camaraderie.
I’d like to thank the Chief’s and Warrant Officer, the senior technical people in the CG, on the Dependable, in Cape May, San Juan, San Francisco, and the Rescue 21 project, many of whom I still hear from. You not only taught me the craft of maintenance and support, but how to best manage it by walking around the bases and shops to really get to know the work and people. You have no idea how much you influence my own leadership style. Despite the promise of technology-enabled centralization and support streamlining, the Coast Guard remains intrinsically local and grassroots, and that type of ground-work remains key.
I’d like to thank the ladies in the Child Development Centers in Alameda and here in DC - and they are all ladies - for 8 years my day was bookended at these daycares and with smiles from the staff. Maybe it’s because McPherson children are so cute, but I must say they didn’t just watch our children while we work, they loved them.
I’d like to thank my bosses - Jerry Sgobbo, EJ, Cherian Zachariah, Steve Chamberlain, Pat McMillin, Dianna Bo, James Marquez, Steve Sabellico, and EJ again - support people everyone one of them. I truly appreciate how you let my mind and my methods meander…how you extended to me the work flexibility that all professionals deserve…I think we got some good stuff done and I hope you are proud of it too.
I’d like to thank my peers who also balance family with two careers and kids, especially the guys carrying their weight, but all of my friends who are constantly running between personal and professional lives. It turns out the best remedy to exhaustion is not sleep, but solidarity.
I’d like to thank my fellow DOL-mates, and in particular Captain Davis for not only doing today’s ceremony for me, but for epitomizing the humble support professional who quietly keep a hundred balls in the air from falling. It has been wonderful learning from you and from many other members of the command under your and Admiral’s leadership, these past two years.
And I’d like to thank my family. My siblings including James, Mary, and Anne who are here today, but also Elizabeth and Catherine who could not make it, and my parents who have always been proud and supportive of this Coast Guard journey. Please take some blurry photos. Thank you also to my in-laws who I am truly lucky to have and to live near.
Finally, to my support person…Giulia…and my little support people…Joseph, Rocco, Maria. To my kids, my little hobos - I’m amazed by your growth, your hearts, and your minds. I cherish the memories of those commutes together - most of them - and those daycare events I was lucky enough to join. You have great adventures ahead.
To Giulia, to use a civil engineering analogy that you will graciously let pass, I think we’re more like two halves of an arch…leaning on and supporting the other…perhaps even stronger under pressure…and I would have it no other way. Having newborn twins 3000 miles from family while getting an MBA at night with us both working full time should not be fond memory - but it is. Same for both of us teleworking and doing virtual school for the kids during COVID while also doing a major home addition. Stronger under pressure indeed. I’m grateful my grad-school hair was long and curly enough to fool you into liking me. Thank you for simply being you…that alone has done more good to me - and for me - than anything else in my life.
I may not fully understand how I ended up in the Coast Guard - or know IF I should have ended up in the Coast Guard with my abnormal vision. I also may not have some great story to share from my career or even some memorable lesson learned. But I do know HOW I got HERE today. I can see THAT clearly…an encouraged application, those mentors and friends, the supportive teachers and supervisors, and my family. I can see THAT and see you all clearly…and the view is amazing. HOW I got here today is simply with a lot of support. So thank you for that, and for coming today. ~
Speech video:
Career slideshow:
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