The Spark That Started It All
My story in computing started much earlier than my career. In my early school years, two memories stand out. The first was the day I saw my first real computer. Picture a computer in your head... Go ahead... Got it? Well, that isn't what I saw. This one filled nearly an entire wall and stood as tall as I was. It was covered in toggle switches and glowing indicator lights. No keyboard. No monitor. Just pure mystery and potential. I remember thinking, "This is cool, but what can you actually do with it?"
The second memory was an assembly where they demonstrated a talking computer. Type in what you want it to say, and it would speak it back to you. If you tried to sneak in something inappropriate, it would politely substitute something more appropriate, like "sugar". I probably laughed harder at that than I should have.
Those early experiences sparked something in me—a lifelong fascination with how machines think and how people interact with them.
Formative Years
Soon after, I was thrilled to find that my school had purchased an HP-9830A. It had a full keyboard, a single-line LED display, a cassette bay for storing programs, and a thermal printer. I used it to simulate a pinball machine, wrestling with that single-line limitation. Imagine playing pinball and the screen says, "The ball is heading toward your right flipper. What do you want to do?"
I also landed two computer-related jobs while still in school. One was with a cable TV company, running nightly reports. When my work was done, I'd explore the system files to learn how things worked. Security in those days was simple—if you had access to the machine, you were trusted. They could see my footprints the next day, and they frequently told me that if I kept poking around where I shouldn't be, they'd cut my fingers off. Today they call that Security by Deterrence. When I left at the end of the summer, they threw me a going-away party with the perfect cake: decorated with hands, no fingers, and red frosting in all the right places.
My second job was with the Danish Furniture Center, where I worked alongside the owner to build information systems for the business. This was my first real programming job, and I completely loved it. I was hooked—in love with the idea that I could sit down, write some code, and get a computer to do virtually anything I wanted.
College and a Peek at AI
I worked in the computer center, tutored students, and absorbed as much as I could. The moment that stands out most was my introduction to Artificial Intelligence.
I had a professor we called Slick. He reminded us of the Absentminded Professor. He'd stop mid-lecture, mutter "This is slick", and spend twenty minutes discussing a completely unrelated idea. One day during a classic Slick detour, he began explaining neural networks. Neurons firing. Signals propagating. Activation and inhibition. The spark of intelligence through simple parts working together. I was fascinated.
My friends and I bought him a beer and proposed an independent study to simulate neural networks. We jokingly called it "Making Babies". Our computers weren't powerful enough to do anything sophisticated, but we learned a tremendous amount. I often wonder what would have happened if I had stayed on the AI path.
Information Security: Then and Now
While still in college, I built a billing system for another cable TV company. No login screen. No input controls. No disaster recovery plan. It simply got the job done, and that was enough for the era.
Today, things are very different. Half of my work involves validating input, encrypting sensitive data, checking permissions, monitoring infrastructure, poring through Burp scans and STIG checklists, and defending systems from every angle. Security is now a discipline that requires thought, structure, and constant vigilance. Earning my CISSP formalized something I'd already lived for years.
Accessibility and Why It Matters
My introduction to accessibility was probably the same as most people's: Here's another compliance issue. Does it really matter? How many people does this affect?
Then I stepped through that door. After attending the Microsoft Ability Summit and reading real stories from users, I was moved by the impact inaccessible design can have. Some people are slowed down by poor accessibility. Others are completely locked out of experiences most of us take for granted.
Once I understood that, I couldn't unsee it. Technology should invite people in, not shut them out.
Accessibility became something I champion. It's not a requirement to satisfy—it's an expression of empathy and good engineering.
Artificial Intelligence and the Future
When ChatGPT was first released, my son Charlie ran into my office to show me a tool that could write a college paper. We spent a long time exploring what it could do, what it struggled with, and how it might change the way we work. That led to one of our first real conversations about responsible use. We agreed that AI shouldn't replace our thinking—it should support it. Help us get started, spark ideas, remove friction, clear out the blank page.
Since then, I've embraced AI tools for programming, writing, and creative work. The pace of advancement is astonishing. AI can accelerate creativity and problem-solving in incredible ways, but it still has limits and must be used wisely. It can't replace human creativity, and it still needs human judgment at the helm. At least for now.
Where I'm Going
My work today lives at the intersection of secure design, accessible experiences, and intelligent systems. That kid staring at a wall of switches and lights asked, "What can you actually do with this?" After four decades in tech, I'm still asking the same question—only with a deeper sense of purpose. Today the question is: "What can we build that makes life better, safer, and more inclusive for the people who depend on it?"
Thanks for taking the time to get to know me. If any part of my journey resonates, I invite you to follow along. There's more to come.