Posted on March 27, 2024

About 37 years ago, I thought I was at the beginning of my story. I walked in as the new guy on the 14th floor of the FBI building in downtown Birmingham, all of 19 years old. Of course I (thought I) knew more than all the Special Agents, and couldn't wait for the completion of my college degree to join the ranks. Still in my first year with the Bureau, a trusted mentor and senior FBI Agent secretly informed me that the higher-ups were discussing how to remove the newest know-it-all. He offered a solution; A leave of absence that would legally protect my job until my return. He was a life-changer. I didn't want to get fired, but the Navy was a bit of a crazy notion - and then life-changer number 2 - another senior FBI Agent who was the king of ego-driven, narrow-minded, better than you Agents. He was on a mission and the smart-alecky kid didn't call him "sir" enough. Hello, U.S. Navy. After 'basic' in Orlando, I spent 3 months in Intelligence "A-School" in Virginia Beach. There, I met two men, one black and one Jewish. That's important my path only because I recall our many deep and personal conversations about life, religion, racism, and all other things you're not supposed to discuss. I loved those guys. Unlike our entire class, we were Reservists, headed back to our real lives, not war, after training. Perhaps that led to a lesser stress level for us. It seems like we had more fun than any of the others. And somehow, we ended up ranked 1, 2, and 3 in grades. As was customary for A-School, the leader picked his/her assignment. I don't recall if it was Jeff Sweitzer or Gerald Mason that was 1st or 2nd, but I know I was third. I also know both sailors passed on the opportunity to enlist and take their assignment of choice. And then I did. All the paperwork was completed by the base recruiter, whose job it was to get poor young suckers to extend or enlist. I had another couple years in college, and didn't know if I'd survive the power tripping agents back home, so I decided on a new, 4 year commitment that would begin at the U.S. Embassy in Morocco. The recruiter asked if I had any final questions and I said, yes, could I use his phone to call the FBI and inform them of the change. He laughed and asked, "Did you plan on working for the FBI?" I told him I did in fact already work for the FBI. He rifled through my file to pages I guess he hadn't seen about my onboarding. Without a word, he tore my enlistment papers in half and simple said, "Go back home, son."

Crossing Paths

I know the second of the two FBI Agents hasn't thought about me in years, and the first only after the periodic check-ins. Neither know how they altered my life. I don't even remember the recruiter's name, but with his 15 minute interaction, he too, altered my life. I want to be a person who mends and creates paths for the good of others. I want to share my experiences so that people might consider how a brief moment in time, and a brief encounter might make a difference in someone's life. And maybe one day, even if it's at my funeral, similar stories might be shared of a positive thing I did or shared that altered someone's journey.

Connecting Through Shared Experiences

The driving force for my love of speaking isn't what I share, but what I receive. The look in an attendee's face that says, "me too!" or "That happened to me," is an incredible and motivating experience. Even the dumb things I say and wacky thoughts I've had and been brave enough to share sometimes hit a mark if only to encourage thought and to solidify one's opposing view.

Reach out to me at (205) 413-0600 to learn more about how we can work together to unlock the transformative power of storytelling. Let's connect, let's transform, and let's make a difference – one story at a time.

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