I returned back to Alaska with a better understanding and appreciation of the adversary controlling SNCT (‘He’).
My mentors in DC made the hairs on the back of my neck come to attention with their strong message to protect myself personally and physically.
Their warning held a lot of weight – a burden of weight – more precisely.
For the 10 years of knowing them, never did a conversation involve their concern for my safety. When I left DC the next morning, it was time to make a plan.
The driver for a formalized strategic plan was clear: safety. And there is safety in numbers.
I have a lot of self-confidence in a variety of situations. Heading home from DC, after not going to the meeting at the office which ‘he’ rescheduled from Friday to Sunday, made me feel like a weak failure.
I had to admit to my colleagues on the board the severity of the situation and I simultaneously had to set my own ego aside to have that conversation.
I woke up at the hotel in Anchorage after a few hours of sleep having landed at 1 a.m. from DC. I awoke from my phone ringing. It was an ER nurse. One of my teenage daughters was in the ER for drinking alcohol. My daughters were living with their dad in Anchorage at that time. (I was headquartered in Nome).
I went to the ER and talked with the nurse, who gave me a rundown on what led my daughter and her friend to being there.
I rescheduled my flight to Nome so I could talk with my girl, her friend’s parents, and her dad.
I was scared for her safety, well-being and happiness. This was new territory.