From an early age, I’ve always had an interest in mechanical things. My father was a machine tool technical representative, servicing the midwest automotive trade. At the point where I was beginning to think about what I wanted to do when I grew up, dad observed that almost every time he made a sales call, the purchasing agent would have a metallurgical engineer attend the meeting. Thus, dad concluded that metallurgical engineering must be a decent profession.

I was interested in what dad had to say and wrote to the Metallurgical Engineering department at Purdue. They inundated me with information and invitations to visit. It all looked good to me and the next thing I know, I’m in college and enrolled in metallurgical engineering.

During my senior year, we went on a tour of U.S. Steel’s East Chicago plant. Ugh!  That tour and the Vietnam War made graduate school an attractive next step. Next on the list was a research thesis. With the help of one of my graduate committee members, I went on to the equivalent of a post-doc at what was then the Aerospace Research Laboratory at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. 

I went on to my first real job at Babcock and Wilcox’s (B & W) Lynchburg, Virginia, research center, doing things I’d never imagined. This center supported B & W’s commercial nuclear power business. I started out designing and running in-reactor experiments on ceramic nuclear fuel.

I have to say that, when I first started out, I didn’t have a clue how to carry out the assignments I’d been given. But, with the help and mentorship of colleagues (which was priceless), I muddled through and became something of an expert. The opportunities were exciting beyond compare. Along the way, I spent many days camped on the edge of a spent fuel pool near Clemson, South Carolina, making detailed measurements on pre- and post-irradiated fuel assemblies. I was put in charge of B & W’s hot cell facility, and oversaw the shipment and disassembly of discharged fuel assemblies.

Then came the Three Mile Island event, and the nuclear industry went into decline. B & W company officials said, “Let’s move Mike to Washington DC to seek funded energy and defense research and development projects.” Being a country boy from Indiana, I did not find that prospect to be exciting. Regardless, I made the move, and it resulted in me finding the Institute for Defense Analyses (IDA). IDA is a federally funded research and development center—sometimes known as a think tank—that supports the Office of the Secretary of Defense.

My apprenticeship at IDA coincided with the initiation of a Materials and Structures Office within the Strategic Defense Initiative. My work dealt mainly with the development of various lightweight, low-thermal expansion composites for large space platforms.

Ten years ago, as my hair was slowly turning gray, I was asked to serve as deputy director for IDA’s Science and Technology Division, and began the move into IDA management. That move was completed six years ago, when I became director of the division.

When students begin interviewing for jobs, the questions they get are likely to include: “Where do you want to be in five years,” or “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

 I don’t think I ever gave an answer to one of those questions that remotely resembled what actually happened. The best I can suggest to people at the beginning of their career is do the best they can and be willing to tackle new opportunities.

Also, keep in mind that it sometimes pays handsomely to listen to your dad.

Mike Rigdon