Albert C. McMullen
WWII Veteran
Pearl Harbor Survivor

This is the life account of Albert Charles McMullen, as known and written by his youngest daughter Lynn McMullen Brenton. Albert was born on September 15, 1922 in the small town of Monroe, Michigan. His parents were Merrill D. and Frances (Weiss) McMullen. He had 4 siblings two sisters, Sarah and Myrtle, and two brothers Edward and Jack.
He attended Monroe High School graduating in June of 1940 and joined the Army Air Corp shortly thereafter at the age of 17. He served as an administrative specialist and was assigned to Hickham Field as an instructor at the Hawaii Air Corps Technical School as a member of the 17th Air Base Group. The school was located in what was referred to as the Big Barracks also nicknamed Hickham Hotel. At the time, it was the largest barracks that the Army had ever built. It was the residence for 3200 men and had not only sleeping quarters, but fitness, mess hall, laundry, essential shopping, and training classrooms. Historians believe that its size is exactly why the Japanese targeted the building. They knew they could inflict a high number of casualties.
The intent of the Japanese was to destroy the Pacific Fleet. Six ships were in the harbor and four were destroyed. The USS Arizona was sunk and over 1000 men died in the submerged remains. The Pearl Harbor Memorial is built over this ship. It was a devastating attack on our Navy. Since the focus of the memorial is on the ships, the primary intentions of the Japanese, there is really little mentioned of the Army casualties and the destruction that occurred on base. I was fortunate to visit the memorial with a friend stationed on Hickham serving as an Air Force Major at the Pacific Command Headquarters. When I mentioned my Dad was at the barracks, he revealed that the building had been preserved and now served as his office space. The building is not open to the public. Not even the general military has access, as it now serves as the Pacific Command Headquarters. Only with proper escort, can you gain access. With my friend working there, I had that escort, and was given the rare opportunity to tour the building.
Albert would jokingly say he survived the Pearl Harbor Attack because of his modesty. He said they were awakened about 8 AM on Sunday December 7, 1941 to the sound of explosions. Everyone ran to see what was happening except him. He decided to first put on a pair of pants. The rest of the men ran out in their underwear and headed down the stairs to go outside. Just as they reached the stairs, the Japanese strafed the building, and they were all killed by gunfire. Al was only 15-20 seconds behind. Everyone in his platoon perished except him.
Touring the building put everything in perspective. My first impression was just the size, as I had no clue it housed so many. The building is not only preserved, but very well documented, with marquees describing it and memorabilia and pictures throughout. As we walked around the exterior, I could see the devastation from that attack. The roof had collapsed and had been replaced, but the concrete walls stood. However, they looked like they had measles. I was not prepared with a high quality camera but did take pictures showing the pock marks. They ranged in size from softball to the size of a small tire (pictures below). When we reached the front of the building, I was further shocked. The front had a pair of two large doors that opened out together. They led into the foyer of the building. As they opened, I faced a large (15-20 foot across) iron staircase full of holes from gunfire. I knew instantly that this was the staircase Al had talked about. It made perfect sense. There would have been men in front of his platoon and the big doors would have been wide open. Planes flying overhead would have a straight shot at the staircase. The holes were sizeable. My small camera made it impossible to get the staircase picture I wanted but I did capture a few treads to show the size of the holes. I was chilled. I walked up the steps, and at the top, thought about what Al must have seen as he approached.
My friend’s office space was at the top of the stairs, and there was documentation about his office in the hall in front of the room. It turns out the office had been the residence hall where the men slept. The marque had pictures of before and after the attack and I was able to obtain copies. I actually got to tour the room where Al put on his pants. Al also explained that the attack was in the middle of when breakfast was served. The cooks all ran into the freezer for protection. Unfortunately, the bombing resonated in the structure, and all of them died of concussions. He said survivors scrambled to the flight line directly behind the barracks. In what must have been chaos, they were given machine guns, and began firing at the incoming planes. He said no one knew who hit what. He said if there was one gun firing there was a hundred. I regret now that I didn’t ask questions. Where did they sleep that night? How did they prepare food for 3200 men with no cooks and a decimated kitchen? What did they do to clean up and put out the multiple fires? What a remarkable, unplanned and unexpected day my visit turned out to be.
Shortly after the attack, Al was relocated to Midway Island, a strategic location near Hawaii. As fortune (or misfortune) might have it, he was there on June 3rd 1942 and participated in the Battle of Midway. The U.S. Army Air Force launched attacks on the Japanese fleet from the island. The B-17E, Flying Fortress, was used to perform high-altitude bombing runs. These aircraft had tail gunners equipped with .50 caliber machine guns. Although Al never explained why, the administrative instructor found himself arming one of those guns. His short description of that experience – it was cramped and scary.
Soon after, Al was assigned as Glenn Miller’s booking agent. Glenn Miller was in England doing radio broadcasts and performing at various venues and bases across Europe. Al was arranging for Glenn Miller to perform at the Winter Gardens in Blackpool, England. The Winter Gardens Empress Ballroom, where my mother, Margaret Kirkham, was taking lessons, was where the performance was to be held.
Blackpool was an entertainment town. It was known for its seaside boardwalk with carnival atmosphere as well as its vivid nightlife with stage shows and operas. During the war, it was even more attractive. London was being blitzed and many people moved out and most entertainers headed to Blackpool. The RAF had commandeered the Winter Gardens for training during the day and then it was used to entertain in the evening. Many US soldiers were in the area also for training. Margaret lived in nearby St. Annes and took the train to Blackpool. She said the British girls didn’t like the American soldiers very much. They would hit on the women as they traveled on the train trying to get dates. She said they were cheeky and braggarts. They said they were there to “save” the British. This did not endear them to the girls, or the locals. As a result of this reputation, the Americans were not allowed to take ball room dance classes at the Winter Gardens. But Al was different. He wasn’t cheeky, nor a braggart. We know he was modest. In the process of arranging for the Glenn Miller event, he had become friends with the manager of the Winter Gardens and the lead dance instructor. When he asked if he could take lessons, they agreed. He was the only American on the dance floor. They danced in uniform so he would have stood out and drawn attention. He certainly got my mother’s attention.
A romance flourished, and they were married June 1, 1945. The war ended and Al was discharged as a tech sergeant and returned to Monroe, Michigan in September 1945. Margaret had to wait until the Army sent transport for the war brides. She arrived in February 1946 on the USS James Parker a troop transport ship.
In Monroe, Al found work as a production manager at the Coca-Cola and Stroh’s Distributorship. Later he worked at the Kaiser-Frazer plant in Ypsilanti and at Woodall Industries in Monroe. In 1951 however, he found his career as a first responder. He joined the Monroe Fire Department and retired 31 years later. He always worked a second job and was known for wallpapering, painting and hanging draperies. Margaret was a cosmetologist and opened her own shop, Queens Court, on Monroe Street. They raised three children, Carol McMullen Evans of Monroe, Kirk McMullen of Monroe, and Lynn McMullen Brenton of Mary Esther, Florida. Al was a lifelong member of the Monroe Post 1138 Veterans of Foreign Wars. He was also active in Monroe Lodge 884, Loyal Order of the Moose, and Monroe Lodge 1503, Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks. He was also a member of the First United Methodist Church. He passed away June 21, 1991 and his ashes were placed at Roselawn Memorial Park’s Chapel Mausoleum in 2024.
Al was a man of few words. His family honored that persona with an epitaph that simply reads “Irreplaceable”.

I was born in Mesquite, Texas and was raised on a farm where we raised cows on about 100 acres. This land has been in our family since 1928, so it’s a pretty special place.

I am the youngest sibling, I have two older sisters, but they was in their early teens by the time I was born.
Growing up, I learned how to care for cows and grow all sorts of vegetables in several gardens. When we had time, we would always to to the local creek and fish using a cane pole.
My parents wanted me to have the best education possible so they sent me to a private school. After graduating high school, I enrolled in a local Jr college. After a couple of semesters, I discovered, college wasn’t for me.

This is when I decided to join the service. Someone in my family had joined the service since WWI. My dad got drafted during the Korean War, he was a infantryman, but once over there, his command discovered he was a pretty good cook. My dad always said it was always nice being around warmth and food as it was very cold over there and it rained a lot. My dad spent 13 months over there, once he returned to his assigned base, he fulfilled his enlistment, then he came home.

My dad was my inspiration to join the service, so in 1991, I joined the US Air Force. I was a 46150 Munition System Specialist. My first duty station was Morbach Germany, our command was located in Ramstein Germany. I thought it would be pretty cool to work on bombs, but soon discovered it was also pretty dangers and could be deadly. I entered the Air Force just as Desert Storm was initiating, and when I arrived at my first duty station, I spent a lot of time preparing munitions for shipment or escorting the big rigs, transporting them to railhead. . The US Air Force had a program called Palace Chase, it allowed Airmen to get out early with no penalties. So I exited the US Air Force with intentions to go back to college. But after attempting college, again, life wasn’t the same. I missed the service, dedication and camaraderie. I went back to US Air Force recruiter to see if I could enter the Air Force again, but was denied. Next door was the Army recruiters. I went to their office and the rest is history.

I entered the US Army in 1994 as a 88M, Heavy Equipment Operator. My first duty station was Ft Eustis, Va with 7th Group, 10th Battalion. I spent some time in the motor pool, but was selected as the Battalion Command Sergeant Major (CSM) driver. During my assessment, I was selected by the Department of Defense to go to the White House Communication Agency (WHCA). I left Ft Eustis late 1996. While I was with WHCA, , I drove government tagged tractor-trailers and coach buses, also completed several additional duties. After 9/11/01 I was PCS’d to Crawford Tx to be assigned at former President Bush Ranch. My duties included all logistical requirements, management of staff buildings and maintenance of all GOV vehicles, plus additional duties that varied from week to week. I got notified that I was up for a new assignment, I left Crawford mid 2004 and was told it was Camp Arifijan, Kuwait. I was assigned to 160th Signal Brigade as Command Driver. I coordinated all air and ground transportation, assisted in providing our Brigade Chaplain transportation upon request and assisted the mail clerk with his duties. I trained all civilians who worked with the Brigade on safe operation of a GOV during their stay in Kuwait. I drove over 25 thousand miles during my 12 month deployment, I departed Kuwait mid 2005. My next duty station was with the Department of Defense Courier Service at Ft Meade, Maryland. There I transported our nations secrets all over the world. I departed Ft Meade mid 2009, headed to my final assignment, Ft Hood Texas. I was assigned to the 13th ESC/HHC/G3. During that period, we pulled everyone out of Iraq. I was assigned to work in the SCIF, we wrote all the operational orders and coordinated the casualty notifications. I think that was the hardest part of my career, knowing that we lost a brother or sister and it was up to our command to notify next of kin. Soon, after Iraq, doctors discovered my neck condition ( cervical stenosis disc degenerative disease) which caused my arms and hands to become numb when wearing my gear, due to that and several other injuries, I was medically retired in 2012.

I learned many things while serving. I think all young adults, after graduating high school, should be required to serve at least 4 years. Joining the service made men and women grow up, taught them life skills and created friendships for life. But also learned that being in the Military is hard on marriages/families. I traveled a lot, we called it TDY, and that’s different from deployments, then there was field training. A lot of time away from home, can and did cause problems. But now I’m blessed with a wonderful wife. I have 2 daughters from previous marriage and she has one son from previous marriage. We have two grandchildren, they are extra special.

No one should have to tell you why someone joins the military. When you eat dinner with your family, pause and look around, at your family. That’s what motivates men and women to serve. It’s not about pay, or the supposed glory, it’s for families, for America, regardless of color or religion, we are in it together, one mission, one fight, to protect all of our families.

Tim Pennington
SSG, USA (Ret)

Will is a U.S. Marine Corp. Veteran with 8.5 years of active service, including multiple combat deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. He has been happily married to my wife for nearly 15 years, and together they are raising four incredible children. Family is at the heart of everything Will does, and he cherishes every opportunity to spend time outdoors with them—whether it's hunting, hiking, fishing, camping, or simply enjoying nature.

We at Bucket List Dreams wish to thank Will for his service. Will is a perfect example of why BLD exists. He stepped up, raised his right hand, served and returned home to live a good life. We will recognize and celebrate his life by welcoming him to our September Pheasant Hunt.

Thank you Will...

This story is personal yet simplified in this sense. I feel all people should know
who they’re about to interact with or to who their loved ones are about to be
instructed by. Why some may see this to be overbearing I’ve always taught my
students and to professionally evaluate the credentials of whom is
about to foster an environment of learning. For that I will share sensitive
information to all of you since trusting me is the foundation of learning and
synergy within a professional environment.

This will explain the struggles but accomplishments that happened within my life
but didn’t hinder me from allowing failure to manifest itself and proudly made me
into the passionate teacher and coach I am today. At a young age I found myself
already having to deal with many challenges and obstacles, however I didn’t
realize how strong I or that a human can truly be. The struggles began very early
however they weren’t any fault of my own. At the age of 13 years old my
my biological mother was pregnant with me.

At a young age I found myself already having to deal with many challenges and
obstacles, however I didn’t realize how strong I truly was until now as an adult and
being able to look back at my past. My mother being at such a young age was
already dealing with a lot of struggles, one being that she was
fostered into a African American home who was prejudice for the fact that she was
biracial, the other was for the fact that she was very young and because of her
struggles and being neglected within her home based on her race she soon started
running away from home and finding herself in situations that aren’t suitable for
someone of her age and stature. While combing the streets prior to her getting
pregnant she linked up with a 16 year old male. His name is unknown as he didn’t
later sign the birth certificate. He was a troubled teen who had many issues of his
and took it upon himself, along with my mother to make adult situations they
weren’t ready for.

Him being in constant trouble with the law wasn’t a good thing and when my
mother found out she was pregnant she soon found herself alone in this world.
While pregnant documentation that is classified along with other documents was
later given to me for my keeping and knowledge. This document declared her
name along with other evaluations of my life and the struggles I had to go through.
This document declared that while she was pregnant she was smoking during her
pregnancy with me. It also showed that she was living out of homeless shelters
with no form of a proper living environment. After she conceived me she later had
multiple attempts running away from the homeless shelters leaving me abandoned.
After many attempts of these actions she was later prosecuted by the proper
officials leaving me stranded alone as a baby within a homeless shelter.

After these actions were taken multiple times it was concluded that she wasn’t a
fit mother for myself and I was placed into the foster care system. Within this
system I faced many struggles that later concluded either I was going to end up
dead or saved by the graces of a higher power or my own determination. During
during my time in foster care I went through over 48 different homes. I was moved
around in the system so much it began to seem natural for me and seemed as
though that was going to be my life. It was later in my life that I was finally placed
within a home that I felt I would be officially adopted into, only one problem. This
home had already fostered many children and there seemed to not be enough room
for myself and it seemed that even though they loved me very much they wouldn’t
be able to afford another child within their home. This was very sad and seemed to
be another struggle upon my shoulders. After being released from that foster home
I found myself in a very scary and unsettling situation. I was placed within a home
that was in no condition for any human. Within this home I was physically abused
each and every day. This lady seemed to only want to foster me for the paycheck
she received each month. I was locked in the basement and deprived of food or
forced to eat animal food, along with other cruel actions towards myself. I
remember that while I was locked in the basement, each time I cried of fear I was
forced to move down another step which was closer to the bottom of the dark
dungeon. I also remember trying to bathe myself but not knowing how to and
putting soap and shampoo in my eyes without knowing they made tear free
chemicals in the event such an accident happens. I never knew what my birthday
was, what holidays were as I don’t remember ever celebrating them. And I would
be forced to sit on the floor while she laid on the couch as she was very
overweight and if I slumped over because my back hurt, then I would be beaten
and told to sit straight up.

I surely thought at this age I was either going to end up dead or die trying to
escape such a situation. I could remember her telling me that if I said a word to
social services when and if they did their home walkthrough checks that she would
make sure I never spoke again. I dealt with this for a long time, until one day
something unexpected happened.

I was wanting to go outside and play and asked if I could due to the door being
locked from the inside from a key. She told me I couldn’t leave for the fact she
probably thought I was going to try and run away. She declined this
numerous times and upon me asking numerous times, she got mad and grabbed a
lighter. I asked her what she was doing and she proceeded to try and scare me with
the lighter by trying to burn me with it. Myself having some self taught knowledge
began blowing the flame to prevent such abuse. I quickly saw near the door she
had a wooden baseball bat which seemed to be much bigger than myself, especially
when I was nearly emancipated from neglect and being malnutrition. I had to
decide to fight or flight, so I grabbed the bat and started swinging as hard as I could
as it was my last hope.

With this situation happening and the the proper officials being called by someone
an investigation concluded that I was being neglected and abused for years within
this home with permanent scars. I later was moved back to the original house I
thought I was going to be adopted into and soon some people who are now my
parents showed up. How they arrived to come see was a story within itself. My
mother now was sitting on the couch with a broken leg from a snowstorm. Being
Catholic she looked at my father and asked “if we’re going to attempt to have a
kid, we need to do it soon as we’re getting younger”.

She closed her eyes and asked god if they were meant to have a child or if they
should save a life and possibly think about adopting a child. Minutes later the
phone range and it was social services declaring they had a child that has been
through so much and they didn’t think I was even suitable to be adopted but it was
getting to the point that I was in the system so long that this would be a free and
closed adoption, or that I would age out of the system and be left in this world
alone. My mother looked at my dad and said you’ll never believe who
was on the phone and later explained the situation to him. A few days later they
called social services back and declared they would like to see me and find out
what kind of shape I was in. Soon after I remember them coming to pick me up for
a trial weekend at their house to see if possibly their home would be suitable for a
possible adoption and rehabilitation. I remember walking into their house and them
walking me upstairs and showing me my first room that was all mine to myself.

They said “here is your room James and here is your own TV and bed”. I was
excited but had so much fear in my mind as I thought this was just another house.
Months later on July 4th I found myself in a courtroom being asked by a judge if I accept to be
adopted by them and I signed a piece of paper with the help of spelling my new
name in the courtroom. This situation was alarming and rare because The
Multiethnic Placement Act, as amended, enacted in 1994 and
known as MEPA (or MEPA/IEP to acknowledge amendments passed in 1996),
prohibits child welfare agencies that receive federal funding from delaying or
denying foster or adoptive placements because of a child or prospective foster or
adoptive parent’s race, color or national origin and from using those factors as a
basis for denying approval of a potential foster or adoptive parent. The law also
requires agencies to recruit foster and adoptive parents that reflect the racial and
ethnic diversity of children in out of home care, a process known as diligent
recruitment. So I guess this was the beginning to a blessing within itself or very
good timing for such a wrongful thing to have a law needing to be passed on it.

This was the great start to a new beginning but a journey and rehabilitation that
would never end. My parents were loving and great parents that did so much a put
up with so much to make me the man who I am today. Some of the things they did
but aren’t limited were, my mother after retirement volunteering at my elementary
school for the fact that unprofessional teachers said “this child is too far gone and
broken, he’ll never be able to graduate and further his education”. My parents went
to therapy sessions with me, even though I was smarter than I looked and declared
to the therapist that “I knew what his intentions were and that I wasn’t
going to speak of anything and who does he speak to when he has an issue”. I
told him I wasn’t going to speak about my issues unless he could teach me things I
never learned before the age of 7 for the years I lost in foster care.

So with that being said he taught me how to play the guitar as music is a form of
therapeutic rehabilitation. My mother and father fought for me through all the
aggressive moments I had, the detentions, the suspensions and fights I got into for
violence was the only thing I was brought up around and knew. I knew nothing
about holidays or even what my birthday was, for I was never explained or taught
these things in my 7 years of life before being adopted. My parents, counselors,
principals and a few teachers never gave up on me. One that changed my world to
this day was finding out how sports were away out of my anger and with that being
said they signed me up for the YMCA at Westwood in Coventry Rhode Island.
Little did I know the impact this would have on my life. My parents meet with the
camp director and spoke with them about my life and the struggles I went through
that no humans should ever have to go through.

The director was the warmest, kind hearted person ever as well reveal why later
in this biography. Soon I found myself being dropped off each and every morning
with my lunch packed with a kind note from my parents in it for day camp. My
parents and others found quickly that the only release I had that would hinder the
anger and aggression were sports. They found that through sports I would teach
myself the games and that I would tire myself out trying to perform better than
anyone else. This YMCA had weekly sports camps such as but not
limited to baseball, football, tennis, soccer, golf and much more. This YMCA had
overnight sleepovers and special events for everyone. They had the lake 2 mile
swim and mentoring/buddy sessions along with so much more. I found out
that I was so good at the sports and more developed than most which led
competitiveness to reach a level of aggression I couldn’t control for I never
understood how to.

This led me to be sent home from camp on numerous occasions but the YMCA
didn’t give up on me. The director followed me secretly around studying my ways
and thoughts. She later spoke with my parents and took me under her wing. Instead
of always sending me home for a minor infraction, I would be sent straight to her
office on top of the biggest hill I've seen, in which was a challenge in itself but I
later realized the demographic reasons for this hill. As one would walk up such a
steep hill, they would have time to think on their actions and tire themselves out
from the anger they had within. She would let me know what I did wrong and the
corrective punishment she was going to give me along with helping her with her
daily tasks.

She realized how much sports meant to me and obtaining trophies, awards and
the type of affirmation I needed within these events, so in that each infraction she
would suspend me from sports just like any other sports team would do so. I found
this to be very effective as I disliked not being able to show off my talents I taught
myself. She later saw that with my fast progression within sports that I would find
myself teaching others, which led her to allow me to foster others and mentor them
in a positive role model program. I didn’t realize what I was doing but what I was
doing was being a mini counselor in the fact that when I saw someone not grasping
the knowledge and or skill of an activity such as but not limited to fishing off the
dock, or knowing how to play a sport I would teach them everything I learned
which later progressively showed leadership skills. She was fearful of my
overnight camping explorations within the YMCA’s events but she kept a close eye
on me and allowed me to join such an amazing event and later as I grew within the
YMCA I learned how to properly act within such environments with others.

I thought I knew the manipulating ways of each and every adult trying to
rehabilitate me, however I was very wrong as this director found the exact way to
conform it to my ways in a positive mannerism so that I could grow as an
individual. I won many events and held records within the YMCA.

I was the only young camper at my age to teach myself how to swim and
complete the 2 mile lake swim. I grew as an individual within the YMCA’s
structure and took what I learned into my everyday interactions and within school.

I soon became too old for the sporting camping events and later my parents
decided to move and build their dream house in the Smoky Mountains in Bryson
City, NC where I soon found other challenges upon myself. We moved to a
primary southern atmosphere and soon after making progress in my life
rehabilitation, I found myself starting middle school within an environment that
didn't like the color of my skin. I dealt with those issues as I did at a young age
through violence but soon realized with my age and maturity that I was out
numbered and the only way to show them my ‘type” was different than how they
were raised to believe, was to impress them with the skills I’ve acquired they felt
they might be better than me at. Their good old ways were old and traditional, play
sports move up in the ranks in high school to varsity and win state championships,
and have the biggest, best and loudest truck, so that’s what I did. My parents
never handed me anything nor did I ever ask for anything. I was raised
with nothing and always fought and worked for what I wanted so I got a job and I
paid on a nice truck that was my first vehicle and was the nicest in town. I excelled
in sports and was a 6 sport athlete in high school obtaining numerous awards and
winning state championships. I never ever thought that I would make it this far in
school or sports, but I did. Sports drove my anger out of me but to remain in
them you had to maintain good grades and professionalism.

The town soon grew to love me and I was accepted within their eyes and life
was back on track. Soon my parents got tired of the retired life and ended up
buying a new house in Wilmington NC, however that had not bearing on my soon
to be a remarkable journey I never knew would happen. Midway through my high
school career the thought of being a professional athlete went through my head
over and over, however I learned quickly the odds of this happening or even being
a collegiate athlete are less than 1-3%. Later throughout my high school journey I
ended up having 16 division 1 colleges scouting me, wanting to give me a full
athletic scholarship to play at their school. I was signing a baseball athletic
scholarship to a NCAA Division 1 school of the name of Duke University and then
later transfer over to North Carolina Central University. Who would have ever
guessed that the James Jordan, the one that some said wouldn’t ever make it out
of school and make something of his life, would be going to college and under a
full athletic baseball scholarship.

My dream was starting to become reality. I found myself being moved into my
new apartment in Durham North Carolina to start my first semester of college as an
athlete but knew what was ahead of me was an unbelievable amount of work. I ended up being a highly ranked NCAA baseball pitcher that broke college records
and was a chancellor
scholar. (https://nccueaglepride.com/sports/baseball/roster/james-jordan/2610)

I was of high honors within my college and while attended found myself
not going home for the summer spring break for athletes couldn’t and because I
started working for the Durham North Carolina YMCA to put a few extra dollars in
my pocket but for the experience I once had as a young child that I’ll never forget.

I worked for over 10 years with the YMCA and was the head swim instructor,
head lifeguard and personal wellness trainer. I obtained my degree in a Bachelor of
Science in Physical Education (k-12) with a health and wellness license, a
concentration to then pursuing a Masters in Kinesiology, along with many other
certifications and health licenses, as well as a teacher license. I was invited to a
minor league professional baseball tryout which I never thought would happen in
my lifetime.

Shortly after my college and
professional career I decided to put my degree to use by becoming a middle school
and a high school teacher. I was the chair of department and later for my
outstanding teaching I was awarded 2 national recognition awards from our former
presidents, Bill Clinton and Michelle Obama for Alliance For A Healthier
Generation. Many years later after coaching and teaching. I decided it was time to
do something bigger than myself. I later decided for the future of my children, if I
were to have any, that I would join the United States Air Force and serve and
protect my country, along with making sure my unborn child never had to deal
with the struggles I had to endure. It was a true testament and challenge but another
opportunity to embark on and train so that others may live. I was a
Firefighter/Emergency Medical Responder.

I couldn’t ask for more in my life and slowly started to realize how short life is
and the many lives you can foster, teach and truly touch in a positive way.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop working as hard as I do or ever be able to get back
those 7 years of my life I lost in the foster care system, however what I can do is
try to touch each and every individual within my path of life. During my time I was
a decorated soldier and experienced many things most won't ever be a part of or be
able to speak on. While I was enlisted I took advantage of the free education and
obtained another degree in Fire Science. At the time of my enlisted contract
coming to an end I found out that I had serious medical constraints arise due to my military service. it was time to either continue or leave the military. I was
intending to continue for another enlistment contract however I ended up medically
separating as it seemed I put my body and mind through what I was wanting but
found out I pushed it to hard and that I wasn’t to the DOD standards anymore to
continue my military career on full active duty.
My family and I moved to Michigan and I went back to my original career of
teaching and coaching.

Many people ask me how do I do it, how did I do so much, how am I never tired
and always on the go? and my answer to them is, I am trying to make up for the 7
years I missed in foster care that I can never get back and that there’s so many
people out there, including students who I can teach more than just health too. I
love my career and love learning as I strongly feel it doesn’t matter what age, size,
color or ethnicity someone is, everyone including myself can learn from one
another. From a lost child given up at an early age, to a high school excelled
student athlete, to a college degreed athlete, to a professional athlete, to a teacher
and coach, then to a soldier and then back to a teacher, I promised myself to always be fair, firm and passionate. But to always have integrity, put service before
self and maintain excellence in all I do.

V/r,
//SIGNED//
James Jordan
US Air Force Veteran