Other things I've learned from my dad aren't so simple. He taught me a great deal about preparedness; of knowing how to handle an unusual and stressful situation, and being able to react decisively. Some of the examples, such as always taking a moment to notice where the fire exits in a hotel are, have thankfully never come in handy. Some of the examples have. My dad always has a fire extinguisher in his car or truck. Twice I've put out a fire with the fire extinguisher I kept in my car; once it saved a man from burning to death.

My father has never rubbed my nose in the mistakes I've made. It's never easy to admit errors, but my dad has made it easier.

Following his example, I've learned that no person can know everything that there is to know. That might sound like a no-brainer, but I have encountered so many people who can not or simply will not ask for help, seek advice, nor invite critique. That is no way to go through life. If you think you have nothing left to learn, then you will never learn anything new.

All three of these points tie into the biggest challenges I that I've faced in my first ten years in the Air Force. Most of my work has been, up to now, technical. Investing some time and energy in researching what might go wrong in the future paid huge dividends when something did go wrong. Having a back-up plan is essential when working in a time-sensitive environment. In the past few years I have been lauded for "reading the tea leaves" and formulating a solution to a potential problem, which made life much easier when the SHTF. I owe my level of preparedness to my father. Other times I have screwed something royally. It's painful to say, "I've messed up." Without the unconditional love I've received from my dad, I might have suffered more by choosing to cover things up, or from trying to shift the blame away from myself. Finally, in every position I've held so far in the Air Force, knowing who to go to for expertise has been critical. In a culture where many would prefer to turn in a sub-standard project by themselves rather than share the credit on a superior performance with others, I'm grateful to be able to follow in the footsteps of a true team player.

The next ten years [give or take] in the Air Force present different challenges. With a pending promotion to E-6 this winter, my job is less technical and more supervisory. It is here that I will draw even more on my father's help -- past, present, and future.

What little I know about leadership I've learned from my dad. Sure, the Air Force has sent me to a "leadership" class or two, but until my assignment to Elmendorf I supervisored exactly one troop for only a few months [out of the past ten years]. In the next month or two I'll begin managing a work center of twelve first term airmen, and it's a bit overwhelming at times. I often find myself recalling things my father said to me twelve or fifteen years ago. Heck, there are things my dad told me back when I was working on my Eagle Scout project that were over my head at the time, but now make perfect sense. Previously forgotten talks we had when I first joined the volunteer fire department as a teenager now help guide my actions and reactions at work. Stories he has told me over the years take a different meaning now; what seemed like an entertaining tale to me at the time has bloomed into a lesson that -- and I've looked -- is not in Air Force Pamphlet 36-2241.

I don't want to know who I'd be, or what I'd be doing, if it weren't for my father.

Happy Birthday, dad. I love you.

jp