Walking out the door

Walking across the brow of the ship that has been your home for the last 4 years for the last time. Leaving that base that owns so much of your blood, sweat, and tears for the last time. Landing that aircraft for the last time on land after so many landings at sea, knowing that part of your life is done. These are all experiences those in the military have experienced to one degree or another and will continue to experience at 2 year, 3 year, 5 year, or maybe longer intervals. Change is constant. A new duty station, a new job, a new set of folks with whom you will live and work. I always remember that saying that if you don’t like your boss, don’t worry because you will have another one in a year or two. There was always that slight tinge of fear of the unknown as you began the transition and especially when you reported aboard that new submarine. Am I ready? Have I done everything I can possibly do to prepare myself to be where I am right now? How long will it take to earn these folks’ respect? Do I really want to be here? Which you answer with a “Hell yeah!“ I always looked forward to the challenge, but hey, that was part of it. With each new duty station, you learn and grow.

Civilians don’t necessarily know this feeling. Mainly the old guard. The professionals who grew up in the 50s and 60s and who entered the work force in the 70s. They went to college, got a good job with good benefits, and gave their loyalty to that company. They say that those of us in the 30-40 age range can expect to change jobs an average of 3 times over a career. Not these guys. They stayed with it for the long haul, experiencing ups and downs, the good times and the bad. Knowing that they were part of a great company that not only allowed them to perform to their utmost, but a company that was also a part of the fabric of America, about which they cared deeply. Just as it is necessary to have those who stand on the walls to guard freedom, it is also necessary to have those who create industry, those who develop miracle drugs, those who trudge to work day in and day out, performing jobs for which they may never receive recognition.

About 200 of these guys I have come to know and with whom I have worked over the last 7 years will walk out the door for the last time tomorrow from a great company (my area of the company numbers around 900, and a lot more are leaving across the company; if you live in SE Michigan, you know what I am talking about). A company that has lost its way and is slowly digging its way out. Most have at least 28 years with the company and some well over 30. This is all they have known their entire adult lives. Some are moving on to other jobs, some are just retiring. They helped make a great company great, a company that has helped make America great, and they will be missed. No, most of them never put on a uniform and stood out on the walls. Not everyone can. Nevertheless, they performed a necessary and vital part of what America is.

And today I salute them as they experience that feeling of the unknown, that feeling of change. As we say when one leaves a Navy command, “Fair winds and following seas.”

UPDATE:

For some more information on the goings-on this week, go here and here.