During a recent work trip to Baltimore, I experienced something beyond humbling. Our hotel was housing more than 100 veterans from Kansas who were on their Honor Flight. The lobby and bar were abuzz with red T-shirts, soft chatter and laughter. There was always someone waiting at the bar, and my coworkers and I took the opportunity to strike up small talk. We always ended with, “Thank you for your service.”

Their responses?

“If I were younger and my body was able, I would do it all again.”

“I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“It was my honor.”

They would do it all again?

That simple phrase carries so much weight. It speaks to a life of service, sacrifice and purpose. For many veterans, their time in the military wasn’t just a duty — it was a defining chapter of their lives. Saying they’d do it all again isn’t just about patriotism; it’s about identity, camaraderie and a belief in something bigger than themselves.

It made me think about my own journey — not in combat boots, but in steel-toed ones. Not on the battlefield, but in the engineering world. And it made me ask myself:

Would I do it all again?

The early mornings. The late nights. The moments of doubt. The wins that felt electric.

The people who challenged me, inspired me and trusted me.

I would. I 100% would.

Something bigger than ourselves

I am fortunate to have found a career that fulfills me. I often think back to the first time I realized that I am doing what I am meant to do. A couple of years into my career, my team served as the architects and engineers of record on a large replacement hospital in New Jersey. While my role at that point wasn’t a lead one, I had a big part in the work being done. After the hospital opened, we transitioned into Phase 2, adding on a medical office building. 

During one of the Phase 2 site visits, a co-worker and I wandered back into the hospital. We made our way up to a patient floor and were peering in the window of the unit. A nurse caught our eyes and came out to ask if we needed anything. 

After sharing our role in designing the hospital, she told us how much of a difference the new hospital has made in their ability to treat patients. She and her co-workers loved everything about it. That experience for me is what lit the fire.

This career has pushed me in ways that I never could have imagined. The COVID-19 pandemic is a great example. We were hired as part of a design-build team to turn the state fair expo center into a field hospital in 10 days. With just an hour’s notice, the Army Corps of Engineers, representatives from local hospitals, general contractors, tradesmen and women, architects and engineers all assembled at the site and started working. 

It didn’t matter at that point if you liked the person next to you; they were your partner in battle, and you set your differences aside. We all accomplished our goal of opening the field hospital on time. 

I often find myself reflecting on this experience with others in the industry who were on the team, and we ask each other: “Would you do it again?” Like those who put their life on the line in battle, we all said we would (although pray we never have to). 

What we did is not comparable to the sacrifices and heroism of serving in war, but we felt the same feelings of identity, camaraderie and a belief in something bigger than ourselves.

Sharing the journey

This is why I write.

I write this column not because I have all the answers, but because I believe in the power of sharing the journey. I write for the young engineers who haven’t found their voice yet — for those who are still wondering if they belong, if their work matters, if they’re seen.

By putting myself out there, I hope to show that they’re not alone. That the path is rarely straight, but it’s worth walking. That fulfillment doesn’t come from perfection — it comes from purpose, people and moments that remind us why we started.

So when I ask myself if I would do it again, I think of the nurse in New Jersey, the field hospital in Milwaukee, the veterans in Baltimore and the engineers just starting.

And my answer is clear:

Yes. I would. In a heartbeat.

And now I ask you:

• Would you do it all again?

• What moments in your career or life have made it all worth it?

• If you could go back to day one, knowing everything you know now, would you still choose this path?

• Was it the first time you led a project? Or the time you mentored someone who later became a leader themselves?

Take a moment. Reflect. And if you feel inspired, share your story. Because sometimes, the most powerful thing we can say is: “I would do it all again.”