I was eighteen.
Not chasing careers.
Not chasing titles.
Not chasing promotions.
I was chasing drums.
Dusty snares.
Soul samples.
Crackling records pulled from another century.
Trying to make beats like Dilla.
Trying to make words move like Saul Williams.
Trying to find myself somewhere between a kick drum and a poem.
Back then...
Hip-Hop wasn't music.
It was oxygen.
Neo-Soul wasn't a genre.
It was a compass.
And every unfinished verse felt like a map to somewhere I hadn't discovered yet.
(Pause)
Then I met Dave Haggadone.
And he changed the frequency.
Not with some grand speech.
Not with a magic formula.
Just wisdom.
Patience.
Opportunity.
At Lansing Community College, while I was staring at speakers, he taught me to see systems.
While I was listening for rhythm, he taught me how to hear responsibility.
He showed me technology.
Creativity.
Education.
Possibility.
Most importantly...
He showed me step one.
Because that's where every future begins.
Step one.
(Pause)
Thirty years later...
I'm still walking.
Still learning.
Still becoming.
But the road wasn't straight.
Nah...
the road looked more like cables thrown across a machine room floor.
Twisted.
Crossed.
Connected.
Complicated.
Beautiful.
I watched this industry evolve from two-inch reels to three-quarter-inch tape.
From M2 cassettes to servers.
From physical media to streaming media.
From hardware to software.
From racks and routers to cloud-based infrastructures.
From SDI pathways to ST-2110 signals flowing through gateways like rivers made of light.
And every generation said:
"This is the future."
Then time whispered:
"Keep moving."
(Pause)
Because technology changes.
People don't.
And somewhere in the middle of all those upgrades...
life happened.
I became a father.
A single father.
Two reflections staring back at me.
Looking for guidance.
Looking for certainty.
Looking for answers.
And if I'm being honest...
I didn't know what I was doing.
I was scared.
Confused.
Shaking in my boots.
Trying to engineer a future while troubleshooting myself.
Trying to raise children while still raising my own understanding of who I was becoming.
Some days I held it together.
Some days?
Well...
some days held me together.
(Pause)
But that's when something beautiful happened.
Friends became family.
Coworkers became family.
Mentors became family.
Strangers became family.
Because family isn't always DNA.
Sometimes family is the person who shows up when life loses signal.
(Pause)
So tonight...
I want to stop the transmission.
Just long enough to say thank you.
Derek Durst.
Brother...
we didn't always agree.
But respect isn't built through agreement.
Respect is built through opportunity.
You gave me a shot.
You opened a door.
You trusted me enough to walk through it.
And that's all love.
Always.
(Pause)
Cyndi Buchan.
Lisa LeBlanc.
Fourteen years later, your wisdom still echoes through my work.
Your professionalism.
Your support.
Your leadership.
I still carry those lessons.
Every day.
Thank you.
(Pause)
Mike Baker.
Arthur Tompkins.
Michael Schultz.
My big brothers from different mothers.
The older I get, the more I understand something simple.
Listening is a superpower.
Sometimes I just sat back.
Stayed quiet.
Watched.
Learned.
And you all taught me more than you probably realize.
(Pause)
Cap.
Charles Lelievre.
Captain.
That's what we call you.
Because that's what leaders do.
They navigate.
They steady the ship.
They help others see beyond the horizon.
Thank you for believing I could sail further than I imagined.
(Pause)
Scott Zachry.
Dwight Johnson.
Thank you for letting me lead.
Thank you for letting me fail.
Thank you for letting me recover.
Because growth isn't perfection.
Growth is trust rebuilt.
Growth is learning the lesson without becoming the mistake.
You saw something in me.
Thank you.
(Pause)
Corey Gregory.
Selah Konur.
When life got difficult, you opened another chapter.
You reminded me that a setback isn't a destination.
It's just a transition.
And in broadcasting...
we should all understand transitions.
(Pause)
And to the entire C-SPAN Engineering Team and Leadership...
Thank you.
For every conversation.
Every challenge.
Every lesson.
Every opportunity to improve.
Every day I learn from you.
And every day, you make me better.
(Long Pause)
Thirty years.
Thirty years of signals.
Thirty years of stories.
Thirty years of deadlines, technology, friendships, failures, growth, reinvention, and grace.
And after all these years...
I've learned something.
The equipment was never the story.
The tapes weren't the story.
The servers weren't the story.
The cloud isn't the story.
The standards weren't the story.
The people...were always the story.
The mentors.
The teammates.
The leaders.
The believers.
The people who reached back while climbing and pulled somebody else forward.
(Slow down)
So this poem isn't about my career.
Not really.
This poem is about gratitude.
Because I wouldn't be who I am
or who I am becoming
without every single one of you.
The eighteen-year-old poet.
The dreamer making beats.
The single father.
The broadcast engineer.
The lifelong student.
They're all standing here tonight.
On the same frequency.
With the same message.
(Pause)
Big ups.
Much love.
Deep respect.
And from the bottom of my heart...
Thank you.
For the lesson.
For the opportunity.
For the trust.
For the journey.
For helping me carry the signal.
(Softly)
And I promise...
to keep passing it forward.