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Best Place to Keep Taps on That Ex You’re Convinced Is A Terrorist
National Geospatial Intelligence Agency
By Katie Pelech
Photograph by Frank Di Piazza

“Mohan here.” I grin at the gruff greeting I receive when I call the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, part of the U.S. Department of Defense. Jim Mohan’s no-nonsense veneer is shielding, I’m quite sure, a warm, caring man who’s willing to risk life and limb for his family and his country—you’ve seen the type in movie after movie. I joke (highly inappropriately) about my status as an immigrant to the United States: “So, I’m a Canadian, you know. Any worries about spies?” and, to his credit, Mohan doesn’t skip a beat. He pauses for effect, then deadpans, “You should be OK. The Canadians are our allies.”

And so, with one faux pas and some ardent pleading, I’m in. But into what, exactly? The NGA isn’t much more than another dry acronym to me. But, though the folks at the low-profile fortress tucked away just east of the Anheuser-Busch brewery do have a yen for acronyms, they are anything but dry. In truth, they are engaged in some of the most fascinating—and essential—work in the country, or, at least, I suspect so. The essence of the work is divulged on a need-to-know basis, and I, mouthy reporter that I am, do not need to know.

In a nutshell (albeit an excruciatingly cramped one), the NGA makes maps in support of national security: all-encompassing, interactive, constantly updated and exquisitely detailed maps. More than 3,000 people are employed by the Missouri hub of the NGA, which includes a primary center here in St. Louis and a smaller facility in Arnold. Together they convert terrain analysis, as well as vector, elevation and hydrographic data, into incredibly accurate maps spanning the globe.

The NGA’s most ardent analysts emphasize the thrill of ever-evolving technology, noting the invention of the microprocessor chip as a turning point in the field of cartography. Today the ubiquity of satellite and microprocessor technology has led to a deluge of geospatial-imaging jobs. A field that was once dominated by the NGA has now become accessible to hundreds of companies around the world. Google Earth, explains Kevin Boyer as we drive through South America using his GIB (geospatial intelligence for operations support in the battlefield) program, is just one such venture.

Boyer has worked at the NGA for 22 years and has no intention of going anywhere. The employees I meet all boast double-digit careers with the agency. Suzanne Morse, an analyst who taught mathematics before she came to the NGA, explains: “It’s very gratifying, the day-to-day activity, because it’s not like you’re defending your own back yard; it is your own back yard.”

Co-workers nod in agreement. These people could be working in all sorts of other places, often for more money—but they stay here. Working with classified information makes it difficult to share their jobs with their families. Erratic hours, too, can have an isolating effect. During Hurricane Katrina, the members of Morse’s group were practically sleeping in their offices, working ceaselessly to keep tabs on ever-shifting topography. Yet, claims Mohan, “People come to work here and they retire from here.” Why?

For starters, there are perks. The NGA pays for classes and additional degrees so that employees can keep abreast of the technology they find so fascinating. NGA also offers a deployment program, allowing analysts to wade into the field and see the effects of their work firsthand. But, finally, it is the shared belief in the good of their work that keeps people coming back for more. “We turn on the news and see something we’ve affected every day,” marvels Morse. “We save lives—not just our own soldiers but noncombatants’ and enemies’ lives. We can prevent things.”