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Marion C. Blakey President and CEO Acceptance Speech for the NAA’s Wright Memorial Trophy Aero Club of Washington Washington, DC December 13, 2013 I am humbled tremendously by this award, by your presence, and by your comments. I want to thank the National Aeronautics Association for this great honor, the Washington Aero Club for hosting this wonderful event, and our terrific sponsors – all of whom have made this evening possible. Frankly, the trophy should be inscribed with the word “We,” because it recognizes not just me, but the work of teams of colleagues and mentors that I have had the privilege of working with over the course of my career. And, there are far too many of you for me to recognize individually this evening – so let me simply just say, thank you. Indeed, the foundation of a good career in Washington is often proximity to independent, creative minds and talents. And in this regard and so many others I’ve been blessed. But I owe a special debt of gratitude to the smallest team of all – my family, my husband, Bill, my daughter, Mona, and my sister, Leslie, who have provided unfailing support, encouragement and understanding. Recipients of the Wright Trophy all have been united by a love of aviation expressed through a variety of experiences and career paths – test pilots, astronauts, engineers, business executives, political leaders, and much more. Two former recipients are here with us tonight, Secretary Mineta my mentor and friend and Bob Stevens, Executive Chairman of Lockheed Martin, former Chairman of AIA and a great counselor to me. As those two know, virtually all previous trophy winners were united and inspired by a desire to contribute to the security, prosperity, and vitality of this great country. Teddy Roosevelt spoke famously of the “man in the arena” to describe those individuals who as he said, “strive to do the deeds; who know great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spend [themselves] in a worthy cause.” Tonight, I am reflecting for a moment about the blessings of an unexpected career. However, I worry that today when it comes to public service Teddy Roosevelt’s arena is becoming a gated community with ever-rising walls – barriers that too often repel talented citizens from serving their country, a community whose residents often do not get the respect they are owed. I come to this view after a career in public life that began in a rather unpromising way – at the bottom rung of the civil service ladder. I was first hired as a GS-3 clerk. You hear about the bad old days when women joining the work force – no matter what their education or qualifications – were always asked if they knew how to type. Well, I didn’t 1 know how to type. And while there may have been a lower rank than GS-3 clerk it sure wasn’t apparent to me then. Nonetheless, during those early years as a civil servant I learned to appreciate greatly those who choose to make a vocation of government. I never forgot this as I transitioned from being a communicator to an administrator, from civil servant to political appointee. Over the course of my career, I’ve had the opportunity to move in and out of government – to the private sector and then back. Each time, my public service experience, exposed me to new challenges, and prepared me for the ones to come. You know, in this respect I’ve always been struck – and moved – by the story of the two Army Delta Force troopers who fought in Somalia 20 years ago this fall. This will be familiar to some of you who read or saw Black Hawk Down. During a mission in war- torn Mogadishu, a U.S. helicopter was shot down. The pilot was Michael Durant. Because of heavy fire, there was a debate about sending any rescue teams. Enter some Delta snipers who wanted in and wanted in now. Here's a look at the life-and- death decision about to be made by sergeants Gary Gordon and Randy Shughart. Gordon was sniper team leader of the Army Special Forces Command. [video clip] It turns out that Gordon had already requested permission to go in twice and was refused twice. He wouldn't accept no. His third request was granted. What happens next is the stuff that heroes are made of. Upon arriving at the scene, they learned that only Durant was alive. In the ensuing firefight, these vastly outnumbered soldiers sacrificed their own lives to rescue the pilot they'd never met. For their efforts, Gordon and Shughart were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, recognition for valor beyond the call of duty. And Durant eventually was released. But that's not where this story ends. After coming back home, Mike Durant was invited to Gary Gordon's hometown in Lincoln, Maine, to speak at a memorial ceremony. This was tough because the first day Durant laid eyes on Gary Gordon was October 3, the day the sniper would die while trying to rescue him. What do you say in these circumstances? Durant thought, I'll tell them about the Medal of Honor, a bit of a history lesson. So Durant went to the town library. You can practically smell the dusty, musty books if you think about it. Now that he'd done some research, Durant felt better. After all, he now had a book about the Medal of Honor right in his hands. He was just being prepared. But, you know, there are some things for which you just can't be prepared. Permit me to read a couple of paragraphs from Durant's autobiography, In the Company of Heroes. This is Durant talking: 2 "I got a book on the Medal of Honor from the local library. The book was full of interesting historical facts, and its record of heroic deeds was quite overwhelming. But when I got to the back of the book, what I found truly astounded me. There, located in a small pocket, was the library checkout card." "Apparently, the book had been checked out only a few times since its publication, and the last reader had taken it home almost 20 years before. The last person to sign out that book on the Congressional Medal of Honor would in fact become the next recipient of our nation's highest military award. It was a young teenager named Gary Gordon." Gary Gordon knew what it meant to be prepared - even though he probably didn't realize it at the time. Because when all is said and done, it turns out that some of our ability to be prepared happens as we make our way through life even when it isn’t necessarily apparent to us. Public service helps provide that preparation. It exposes you to people and circumstances you would never otherwise have encountered; it helps shape you, and encourages you to take on new opportunities and risks you never envisioned and contribute to the common good. Making a difference in the life of our country can happen in or out of government or better yet, in my view, some combination of both. In 1908, a young Donald Douglas saw the first public demonstration of the Wright Brothers aircraft and was so inspired he later put his wife’s savings, then a massive sum of $2,000 into building airplanes. In June 1942, it was a squadron of Douglas dive bombers at the Battle of Midway that in six violent minutes turned the tide of the war in the Pacific. Douglass was one of the captains of industry – many of them called “dollar men” working for no salary – who built the arsenal of democracy that won World War II. Then during the Cold War titans of aerospace, manufacturing and transportation – figures like Norm Augustine, Charlie Wilson, George Packard, and my FAA predecessor Najeeb Halaby – stepped up to take critical posts in national defense and civil aviation. We had a better sense then that the challenges faced by this country – and the world – required people from every walk of life, at whatever stage in life. As my old boss Ronald Reagan liked to point out, Moses was 80 when God commissioned him to public service. Unfortunately, a number of recent trends have impacted the perception of public service and some of them not for the better – most exacerbated by the budget austerity that threatens America’s security and infrastructure as well as the viability of our defense industrial base. First, there is often disparagement of those who serve in federal government employment at all levels dismissing them as “bureaucrats” or worse – often by politicians who are trying to win elections by maligning the same government they aspire to lead. A second, and related, development is the growing barrier to those seeking to apply their skills from the private sector in the public sector – and, in some cases, back again. Today, the misbehavior of a small, very small minority, of folks has 3 produced a cumbersome vetting regime as well as complicated, duplicative financial disclosure requirements that deter too many talented citizens from serving. As AIA president I come into contact with numerous people in the aerospace and defense industry; talented leaders, engineers and scientists who’d be willing to take a significant pay cut and put their skills to work in government. But many are repelled by a system that assumes private sector experience – especially expertise gained in a profit-making enterprise – is to be treated with suspicion. I know what attracted many of you to aerospace and defense was the sense of mission and daring that pervades so much of the enterprise.

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