09/24/2026
🇺🇸 Forty-two years ago today, I left Parris Island, South Carolina, for the last time as a Marine.
Eighteen months of my young life were spent on that island—first as a recruit, learning what it meant to become a Marine, and then as a Marine myself.
I can still remember that day. My friend, Cpl. Chaz McGarvey, gave me a ride to the airport as I headed home to Indiana, knowing that before long I would be on my way to Okinawa, Japan.
Another friend, LCpl. Pilly, once told me something I’ve never forgotten:
“No matter where you’re from, Parris Island will always be your home. And when you leave, you’ll always be homesick.”
Forty-two years later, I understand exactly what he meant.
A lot has happened since that day. I’ve grown older, life has taken me in directions I could never have imagined, and many of the Marines who shared those days with me have gone their separate ways. Some are no longer with us.
But somehow, that young Marine is still a part of me.
Parris Island taught me things that have stayed with me for a lifetime—discipline, perseverance, responsibility, and perhaps most importantly, the meaning of belonging to something bigger than yourself.
I don’t think you ever really leave Parris Island.
A part of you stays there.
And a part of Parris Island comes home with you.
Forty-two years later, I am still grateful. Still proud. Still humbled by the privilege of having worn the Eagle, Globe and Anchor.
🇺🇸 Semper Fi, Marines.
🦅🌎⚓
