The economy in 1971 was not cooperating. Norman had finished his second senior year at Idaho State — general engineering with a civil emphasis — and nobody was coming to campus to hire. “There was not one person came to campus looking for” engineers, he told Kevin. Something had happened to the economy. He graduated in June with no job prospects and no clear plan: stay in Pocatello in the trailer, find work at a gas station, figure it out.

He and Marilyn decided to drive to Seattle to see Van and Deanne. They had their daughter Lisa, not yet a year old, riding in a special car seat that hung over the back of the bench seat of the Road Runner. They stopped overnight in La Grande, Oregon.

The next morning, while Marilyn was getting ready, Norman walked down to the Oregon State Highway Department office — not because he had an appointment or a lead, just to see if they were hiring. They were building freeways. They needed engineers. An interviewer handed him an application, he filled it out on the spot, and they continued on to Seattle.

About two weeks later, back in Pocatello, the offer came: a position in La Grande or Baker. Norman chose La Grande. It seemed like a nicer town.

By July 1, 1971, the trailer was sold and the family was in La Grande. Housing was nearly impossible to find — every apartment had been snapped up by highway-project workers — but word through the local LDS ward turned up one available unit in an apartment complex near the college. They moved in. A few months later they bought a mobile home, borrowing the down payment from Velda Lovell.

It was the beginning of a twenty-year engineering career. Norman’s first weeks were spent on a survey crew setting stakes for what would become Interstate 84, learning what a range pole was by trial and error, eating bologna sandwiches in the field. He was the youngest engineer on the project.

The stop in La Grande had been entirely unplanned.