This is the real story of how I came to be where I’m at.
I was born and raised as a practicing Catholic. We always attended church but I only found out at his funeral that my father was the devout one. He was a baker and worked early hours (5:00am to 2:00pm) and most Sundays so he appeared to snooze through the sermons. But every week we were in the pews.
I was always blessed with good luck. My parents had 7 kids total, but my older sister and I were 4 years older than the next group of kids so we were always separated from them.
Looking back on my life I just bumbled along from one thing to another but the way things looked from the outside; it looked to the casual observer that I was a genius. My sister and mother were arguing one day as I was getting ready to graduate from Notre Dame HS (class of 1968). I was looking at a couple of colleges, but really wasn’t greatly interested in going, other than avoiding the unpleasantness in South Vietnam, and was just working at McDonalds in the meantime.
My sister had gotten some Air Force literature to try to tweak my mother. Mother of course responded with “BS, anybody who was seriously looking at joining the military would be looking at the Navy, because everybody knew the training was better.” My sister responded with “Fine, we’ll go down and talk to the Navy recruiter. Come on Dean.”
To which I responded with “Huh …. Umm… OK”. I had no idea that I was being included in that conversation, but we went down and talked to the recruiter. The end result was we wound up joining the Navy on June 28th. (The date becomes significant later.) When I got to boot camp I wound up agreeing to extend for 2 years (for a total of 6) to get advanced electronic training. There were a number of ratings to select for, but if you were going to pick Communications Tech – Maintenance (CTM), it had to be first so they could start a background check. I did my standard “Ummm, OK” and picked that choice. I graduated from boot camp and immediately stopped going to church. My sole religious affiliation was ROM CATH stamped on my dog tags. I really didn’t see any real benefits, and it freed up Sunday mornings for more important stuff.
Skip forward three years. I was on a WESTPAC tour aboard the USS Bonefish (SS-582). We were scheduled to visit New Zealand at the end of the WESTPAC, but had suffered a bizarre hydraulic casualty and wound up going into drydock in Subic Bay for a couple of weeks instead. When we came out, rather than extend the WESTPAC, the navy had us stop in Guam instead. We were in port and the Executive Officer (XO) hunted me down and invited me to reenlist. It was the last thing I was expecting, but he laid out the scenario for me.
Skip forward three years. I was on a WESTPAC tour aboard the USS Bonefish (SS-582). We were scheduled to visit New Zealand at the end of the WESTPAC, but had suffered a bizarre hydraulic casualty and wound up going into drydock in Subic Bay for a couple of weeks instead. When we came out, rather than extend the WESTPAC, the navy had us stop in Guam instead. We were in port and the Executive Officer (XO) hunted me down and invited me to reenlist. It was the last thing I was expecting, but he laid out the scenario for me.
Contrary to my belief, I hadn’t extended for two years, I had signed an AGREEMENT to extend my enlistment. I was within a year of the end of my original 4 year enlistment and if I re-enlisted for more than a year beyond my agreement to extend, the Navy would cancel it. In addition, at the beginning of the current month we had swung through the war zone around Vietnam so any monies earned that month were absolved of Federal income tax – were tax-free. So the end result was I could re-enlist and extend my original commitment by 13 months and take home $7,600 bucks tax-free. I said something to the effect that it would be stupid to pass up an opportunity like that. The XO said, “I thought you would say that.” and pulled out a re-enlistment form and said, sign here, here, and initial there. “There will be a re-enlistment ceremony at the ball game this afternoon.” he added.
Skip forward to Christmas of that year. Both my sister and I had leave and were home for the holidays. We started comparing notes and it turns out her career counselor had grabbed her about the same time. He convinced her what a great deal it was so she reenlisted for the full six years to get the top bonus of $10,000. But of course she had to pay income tax. When all the dust settled she got just about the same amount of money for extending her enlistment for 5 years as I got for 13 months. She said a number of very bad things at that point. Once again I looked like a genius for planning all that out, but in reality I was just bumbling through life.
I wound up going to college (on a Navy Program) and getting married to Lindsay at a lovely ceremony in the local Unitarian church. My mother, bless her heart, wound up convincing Lindsay to convert to Catholicism via the RCIA ;so I was stuck going
back to Church, at least when I wasn’t at sea. We had some kids along the way so I was stuck being apparently Catholic again.
back to Church, at least when I wasn’t at sea. We had some kids along the way so I was stuck being apparently Catholic again.
Skip forward to Christmas time 1986. I had gotten passed over
for Lieutenant Commander the year before (a whole other story) and I knew with absolute certainty that I was going to retire on June 30th in 1988, because I had originally enlisted in June. By the time I was passed over the second time, I was within 2 years of retirement so instead of being forced out I would be allowed to retire. I would be making 2, maybe 3 more patrols and then probably get out and be a defense contractor. My life was pretty clearly laid out, at least for the next 4-5 years.
for Lieutenant Commander the year before (a whole other story) and I knew with absolute certainty that I was going to retire on June 30th in 1988, because I had originally enlisted in June. By the time I was passed over the second time, I was within 2 years of retirement so instead of being forced out I would be allowed to retire. I would be making 2, maybe 3 more patrols and then probably get out and be a defense contractor. My life was pretty clearly laid out, at least for the next 4-5 years.
I was a department head, the Strategic Weapons officer aboard a Trident submarine. What that meant, among other things, was that the last human act before the missiles left the tubes, on launch, would be me holding down the Weapons Control Officer (WCO) firing key. I remember the first training countdown at Strategic Weapons Officer School and feeling a chill run through my body as the first (simulated) missile left the tube.
We got in off patrol in Bangor WA, just before Christmas and we would start training just after New Year’s Day. We had gone to midnight mass in Silverdale, WA and it was packed. My 4 year old son was asleep on my lap. I was idly sitting through the sermon just like always when it happened.
It’s difficult to explain but it felt like a 5000 watt spotlight was shining down and I felt the Holy Spirit express extreme disappointment, in me, personally. Then the moment passed and everyone around me was going on with the mass like nothing happened. My initial response was “What the hell? Why didn’t my parents tell me that God was real and that he dealt with real people in this day and age? “. Ignoring the fact that I went thorough catechism classes, off and on to parochial elementary schools, a Catholic high school,
and they spent close to 20 years of practical modelling of what it meant to be Catholic.
and they spent close to 20 years of practical modelling of what it meant to be Catholic.
The next couple of days passed in a daze while I considered what had happened and what I felt called to do. The message I got from that one blast of insight was that He was unhappy with me and unhappy with what I had chosen as a career. The idea of me being involved with strategic nuclear weapons was not good. It was intensely personal, however, the idea that the rest of the navy was going on patrol didn’t bother me a bit. But my participation in it definitely did. So I had to decide what I was going to do about it.
My initial thought was that, well we hadn’t launched in almost 30 years of deterrent patrols, the odds that we would be called on to launch in the next 18 months was pretty slim, I could just do nothing and fake it through to the end of my career and retire. There was even a Personnel Reliability Program to give people like me a
way to be identified and separated from duties on submarines, but one of my collateral duties was as the PRP Officer who administered the program; so it was not a problem!
way to be identified and separated from duties on submarines, but one of my collateral duties was as the PRP Officer who administered the program; so it was not a problem!
But then I thought about Jonah and how he had tried to avoid a call by God. And the idea of going to sea already swallowed up by a big metal leviathan wasn’t so appealing. So, I came up with what I thought I should do and decided to talk it over with my wife, Lindsay. We were getting ready for bed a couple of days before New Year’s and I said “Lindsay, We need to talk.” As an aside: DO NOT DO THIS! I then spent the next 30 minutes talking her down from the ledge. “No I didn’t have a girlfriend”, “no, I wasn’t looking for a divorce”, “Yes I still love you”. “No you aren’t going to be left with 3 kids and no husband and a diagnosis of MS”. When I got her calmed down, we talked through what I felt called to do and she agreed.
We would start training for the next patrol cycle Jan 2nd, so the night before I called the Executive Officer (XO) and told him I needed to talk to him before we started the training cycle. I went over to his house and we sat down in his den. I had typed out a two page explanation of what I felt, leaving out the whole message from God thing, but just that I felt that Strategic Weapons were wrong. Oddly enough I didn’t have reservations about the 60’s era nuclear torpedoes, or ASROC and SUBROC, or nuclear armed Tomahawk missiles; just strategic missiles. As he read it I saw his jaw drop, he looked at me, and looked back and continued reading with his mouth hanging open. I remember thinking, “Huh, I just thought
that was an expression”.
that was an expression”.
I recently dug out the statement of beliefs and it has reinforced my belief in divine guidance. I hadn’t looked at it in about 15 years and is was a surprisingly cogent statement of what I believed.
The next morning I was hustled out of the off-crew building and sent over to Group 9 while they tried to figure out what to do with me. The end result was that they dragooned some poor weponeer who had just reported to the Training Facility to train up with the crew and make the next patrol (in two and a half months). After about 6 months of busy work as the Navy ground through it’s process I was
transferred to the Trident Refit Facility and finished out my career at as the Assistant to the PMA (Production Management Assistant) and retired.
transferred to the Trident Refit Facility and finished out my career at as the Assistant to the PMA (Production Management Assistant) and retired.
Then nothing. My life had been completely upended, but I retired, went back to UW to graduate school, got a Master’s Degree in Computer Science and went to work for Intel. But from God, nothing much. I felt like I had embarked on a great mission, but then nothing. I read that Mother Theresa went through something similar after starting her mission in Calcutta. I worked for Intel for almost 13 years, got let go, and started going to this crazy little Church at PCC Rock Creek.
What I discovered that having gotten my attention with a 2by4 to the head, the Spirit went back to gentle nudges to direct what I should be doing. By prayer and reflection I could figure out what I should be doing. A couple of nudges were a little more dramatic, when I was being stubborn, but mostly it’s a matter of being open to what God wants for me.
The bottom line for me is that God is real, and that whatever His plan is, it isn’t what man would plan and doesn’t have to make a lot of sense to us. If you want to be a part of God’s plan, great, do his work. And pray and be open to what he wants you to do. He will let you know.