By Bill Johnson

I spent over 35 years working as a civilian engineer for the Navy.  At the beginning, my work was centered on surface ships.  Later I moved over to submarines where I spent the majority of my career.  My office was located in the same building occupied by SEA 08…Admiral Rickover’s kingdom.  Every day my wife and son would make the trek from Dale City to Crystal City to bring me home from the day’s work.  By 1900, I would wait for them while standing on the sidewalk outside the NC2 door.  Invariably a middle aged man in civilian clothing, for active duty personnel would forgo uniforms while in Crystal City in those days, would walk out the door and past me.  He was usually lugging several thick briefcases.  Several minutes later this man, who I later learned held the rank of Commander, would return.  He would drive up in a full sized car which would be left parked in the street outside the door.  He would  pass me again while reentering the building.   Shortly afterwards he would  return to his car with a “kindly old gentleman” in tow.   The gentleman always wore navy work blues with no insignias. He would look at me and wave…always smiling.  He would then turn North and give  a more exaggerated arm wave.  I was told he and his wife lived in the Buchanan House just down the block.  I had assumed he was waving to his wife.  One of my more senior colleagues later told me that the Admiral’s ritual was to face the Pentagon, gesture with his arm and say “Phooey”.   I always admired the Admiral.  He got things done.