I was hooked on archaeology in an eighth grade world history class where they talked about Egyptian artifacts, King Tut and the gold. A lot of people get interested, but don’t realize it’s a lot of work. It’s really difficult to get a job in archaeology. I did an eight-week tour in Crete as a photographer for a project, and I really loved it.

I did do forensic anthropology as an undergrad, and I love the science, but I got too close to my work and started thinking of the remains as a person. It depressed me so much I can’t do it anymore. Now I work with artifacts, not people.

I narrowed my niche, obtaining a master’s degree in maritime history and underwater archaeology from East Carolina University, known for its black-water diving. When you dive under something in zero visibility, you may not see it, but you know it’s there. You can hear it. It’s like a sixth sense.

I became a consultant for family members looking for lost servicemen, taking on two high-profile projects, searching for a PBJ bomber crew in Badin Lake, N.C., and going to Korea to help a man find his father, a victim of a Cold War incident.

I narrowed my focus even further into working with aircraft. There are only two or three people in the country who do that. Working with the Navy was one of the best options because the Navy protects its wrecks.

Part of my job is not only to go back through history and pick out what’s significant but to protect what’s significant. The Naval Historical Center is the keeper of the flame. Because the U.S. Navy is the world’s largest and, I believe best, Navy, we want the world to know why and what’s important about it. I am inspired by the responsibility I feel for protecting the Navy’s wrecks.

I would like to see this branch of the profession become more accepted; it’s hard to convince other archaeologists you need to preserve aircraft wrecks. Even though airplanes were mass-produced, every wreck site is unique. Each one has a story to tell.

In dealing with aircraft, it became a personal thing in meeting veterans. One of the wrecks I worked on was a PBY seaplane destroyed in the Dec. 7, 1941, attack on Hawaii. I was able to track down some of the survivors and record what they remembered, a story never put in the history books because no one ever asked them. By diving on the wreck, I was able to complete the story.

As a sideline project I teach kids archaeology in the Outer Banks and I let them map a shipwreck. One of the funniest things to me is when they first start out, they’ll ask if they can take a piece of it home. By the time they’re done they’re just astounded that anyone would want to touch their wreck. Fortunately, the finders-keepers attitudes that loot our heritage are fading.

To recover, restore and maintain an aircraft, and 20 years from now a child looks at it and says, “Wow, that is so cool,” or “I want to go into the Navy;” that’s something that will make an impact on the nation and the Navy.

Being able to help families and individuals deal with and understand losses, and solve some mysteries for them, has always been the most rewarding part of this job. I’m able to say, “This is what happened to your brother, your father, your uncle, your grandfather,” and give them some peace.