Mike Schultz
Mike Schultz’s story is a Florida story as much as it is an Army story.
Born and raised in Chicago, he grew up with service modeled at home—his father was a Chicago police officer. In 1985, when his father retired, the family relocated to Dunedin, Florida. Mike finished his last two years of high school at Dunedin High (1985–1986), and from that point on, Pinellas County became home. He considers himself a “native” in the way many long-time locals do: not by birthplace, but by spending his entire adult life rooted in the community and always returning to it.
Right after graduating in 1986, Mike joined the U.S. Army. What started as a decision by a young man who felt “a little lost” became a 34-year career that spanned active duty, the Army Reserve, and a return to active duty—always with a consistent gravitational pull back to Pinellas County, where his parents, friends, and life ties remained.
Why he joined
Mike describes his early post–high school period in very human terms: he didn’t have clear direction, started a semester at what was then St. Petersburg Junior College, and found himself spending too much time at Clearwater Beach and not enough time building a future. The Army, for him, was a corrective force—structure, discipline, and purpose. In his own words, it was the best decision he ever made for himself.
MOS and the decision that shaped everything
Mike served as a Military Police Soldier—MOS 95B (Military Police). That job wasn’t an accident.
He originally walked into the Marine Corps recruiting office intending to enlist as an MP. A cousin in the Air Force gave him a piece of practical advice that became a turning point: make sure it’s in writing—make sure it’s in the contract. When Mike asked the Marine recruiter if MP was guaranteed (assuming he scored high enough on the ASVAB), he was told it was “99.9%.” Mike recognized what that meant.
He walked next door to the Army recruiter, asked the same question, and heard one word: guaranteed. He took the ASVAB, scored high enough, and that guarantee carried him for the next 34 years—he stayed in the same MOS his entire career. Looking back, he still wonders what might have happened if he had gone Marines, but he has no regrets about the choice he made.
NCO identity
One of the clearest themes in Mike’s interview is pride in being an NCO. He had the education and later the opportunity to pursue a commission, but he chose to remain enlisted because he respected—and enjoyed—the role of the NCO: leadership close to Soldiers, standards, discipline, and daily mentorship. That identity is central to how he describes his service and what he’s proudest of.
Deployments and the “best and worst” of military life
Mike deployed multiple times, including to Iraq and Afghanistan. He frames deployments as seeing the military “at its best and at its worst”—the pride and cohesion on one side, and the grief of losing Soldiers in combat on the other. Even with that cost, he is clear: he would never take those experiences back because they shaped him as a man and as a leader.
Mentors who set his foundation
His first assignment after basic training and AIT was Germany in the late 1980s—Cold War era, with the Berlin Wall still up. That environment exposed him to what he calls “old school” leadership: Vietnam-era NCOs who didn’t talk a lot, but led by presence and example.
Two mentors stand out:
1SG Strickland (his first sergeant in Germany)
SGM Sanders (a sergeant major at Fort Meade)
What Mike remembers most wasn’t speeches—it was how they carried themselves, and how invested they were in Soldiers and families. Those early impressions became a template for his own leadership style.
He also identifies his father as his “number one mentor,” not because his father pushed him toward the military or law enforcement, but because he modeled calm, quiet, consistent leadership.
Awards that mattered
Mike mentions major career recognitions, including:
Distinguished Service Medal upon leaving service (recognizing the full arc of his 34-year career)
Two Bronze Stars from deployed service
But the award that emotionally “stuck” with him most was an Air Force Achievement Medal earned in Iraq (2006). The reason is telling: it wasn’t about combat prestige—it was about joint service problem-solving.
In 2006, Mike worked alongside an Air Force platoon that had been converted into convoy security gunners on the main supply route. Together, they tackled something that sounds small but mattered hugely to warfighters coming off the road: improving rest conditions by securing new mattresses for truck drivers. After multiple days on patrol, a clean bed is not a luxury—it’s recovery, morale, and readiness. That “small” win represented what Mike valued: taking care of people, logistics that directly improve performance, and effective collaboration across branches.
Active duty → Reserve → Active duty again
Mike’s career also includes a transition path that gave him unusual perspective:
Active duty Army to start
Left active duty to finish college
Served in the Army Reserve while building his civilian career
Returned to active duty later (a move he notes you don’t see often)
While in the Reserve, he worked 15 years with Tampa Police Department, aligning with his family’s law enforcement legacy. During that era, he also had to navigate a difficult personal chapter: he married young at 18, divorced after two years, and became a father to his son, Anthony. He describes his early transition period (early 1990s) as rocky and scary—there weren’t robust transition programs then, and it often felt like “thanks for your service—good luck.” The Reserve, for him, became an “anchor point” that kept structure in his life while he built stability through school and policing.
Later, he returned to active duty—his “true passion”—and that mix of experiences across components helped him understand and support Soldiers from multiple angles.
Coming home to Pinellas—and still serving
Mike ultimately settled in Safety Harbor, which he describes as a perfect fit, while still feeling that all of Pinellas—Palm Harbor, Dunedin, the whole county—feels like home.
He retired from the Army in 2020, but retirement didn’t end his leadership role. He went to work for the Pinellas County Sheriff’s Office, where he helped stand up a Leadership Academy (for deputies and civilian staff). After about 1.5–2 years, he moved into work that pulled him right back to what he calls his “calling”: helping Soldiers, families, and veterans.
He now works as a program manager focused on employment support—helping Soldiers transitioning from active duty into the Reserve, Reserve members who are unemployed or underemployed, and veterans as well. His team’s footprint spans time zones (including Germany, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico). The work is personal: it’s the kind of support he did not have when he transitioned in the early 1990s, and he takes pride in making today’s system better than the one he experienced.
What he wants remembered
When speaking directly to the camera, Mike anchors his legacy in people:
His son and two daughters—the “three biggest things” in his life—whom he says he’s proud of for their growth and who they’ve become.
The mentors, friends, and family who invested in him, corrected him when he drifted, and helped him find the right path.
His parents—especially his mother, still living, and his father, who has passed—whom he credits as a silent, strong leader who shaped his life.
And he expresses genuine gratitude for the local veteran community work being done in Pinellas County—because for him, service didn’t end with retirement. It simply changed uniform.