From RAF Lakenheath to Leadership

Lessons From a Military Family

I was born at Royal Air Force Lakenheath in Suffolk, England, while both of my parents were stationed there. In 1983, when I was one year old, we returned to the United States, but the military never left our lives. My mother joined the Army National Guard, my father the Air Force Reserves, and for as long as I can remember, our family’s rhythm was shaped by service.

My father also worked as a civilian for the U.S. Navy at Treasure Island, and later retired from Travis Air Force Base. Every year, he would leave for TDY assignments — temporary duty away from home. Those trips were a regular reminder of what military families live with: the constant balance between service and absence, between stability and sacrifice.

My grandfather had served 30 years in the Navy, flying as a naval aviator and retiring as a Lieutenant Commander in 1975. My Uncle Bruce went Airborne with the Army, and my Uncle Michael — perhaps the strongest member of our family — was deployed almost every time there was a conflict. As a child, I remember watching the news and waiting for word of his return. He always came back, but the uncertainty was real. To me, he was a hero — larger than life, fearless, and a living example of what it meant to endure.

Service didn’t stop with them. My stepbrother rose to E-6 in the Navy’s submarine force, serving in the high-stakes, high-pressure world of nuclear submarines. A few years ago, he passed away from lung  cancer, a loss that cut deeply but also reminded me of the invisible costs of service.

Growing up in this environment, discipline and organization weren’t optional — they were the way life worked. You packed your bag the night before. You showed up on time. You kept your space in order. You respected the chain of responsibility in the home just as much as on a base. That structure shaped how I think, how I work, and how I lead today.

I never wore the uniform myself, but I carry the imprint of those who did. The discipline I saw in my father, the strength I admired in my uncle, the sacrifice of my stepbrother, and the long tradition of my grandfather — all of it lives in the way I approach challenges, opportunities, and responsibility.

November is a month when we pause to honor veterans, but for me it is also a month of reflection on family. I grew up surrounded by men and women who gave their time, their energy, and their lives to service. They showed me that strength isn’t loud, it’s consistent. It isn’t about recognition, it’s about responsibility.

That is the legacy of my family, and the foundation I try to build upon every single day.