Growing up in Salem, Emily Sprague was surrounded by service long before she ever wore a military uniform.

Her childhood home was unlike most. One side was a family residence. The other side was a veterinary clinic. Her father has served Marion County families and their animals for nearly four decades — first as Marion County Veterinary Clinic, then as All Pets Animal Hospital in Centralia. In a small town, people knew where the family lived. Late-night knocks on the window were not uncommon. Service wasn't a profession so much as a way of being, and Emily absorbed that early, even as she decided that veterinary medicine wasn't quite her calling. "I love cats," she said, "but maybe just the nice ones that aren't going to bite you."

Today, Captain Emily Sprague serves as an optometrist and senior officer in the United States Navy, a career that has taken her from Southern Illinois to Memphis, Hawaii, Guantanamo Bay, Baltimore, and Annapolis. Along the way, she has completed an ocular disease residency at the Baltimore VA, earned an MBA in Healthcare Management from George Washington University, and achieved fellowship status in both the American Academy of Optometry and the American College of Healthcare Executives.

But the story begins in the classrooms and library stacks of Salem.

A member of the Class of 1997, Emily was drawn to learning from an early age — curious about nearly everything, comfortable with math and science, and a regular at the Salem Public Library, where she would walk out with books stacked to her chin. She remembers teachers who gave more than was required. Mrs. Softsey, who invited any interested student to stay back during recess and learn to crochet. Mrs. Beavin, who championed the Future Business Leaders of America and encouraged students to follow their interests. And Mr. Byers, whose typing class left a mark she still feels. "I can still hear his voice," she said. A space. S space. D space. That skill — touch typing — turned out to be the most practically useful thing she learned in high school, fueling a state championship in machine transcription through FBLA and saving her, as a self-described professional procrastinator, through countless late-night papers ever since.

Military service was not foreign territory. Her grandfather served in the Navy during World War II. Her father served during the Vietnam era. Her brother Jesse, a year ahead of her at Salem, attended the United States Naval Academy. Emily knew that path wasn't hers — too much physical demand, and it wouldn't have led directly to optometry school. But when her father mentioned that the Navy offered scholarships for health professions, something clicked. The Navy would help pay for school. She would have a job after graduation. And if she hated it, she owed four years and could walk away.

"That sounds like a great deal," she thought.

She graduated from Southern College of Optometry in Memphis in 2004. More than two decades later, she is still in the Navy.

The nomination for Salem's Academic Hall of Fame came through an unlikely channel. Coach Kirby Phillips — who had taught Emily biology at Salem High School — is a client at her father's veterinary clinic. Her dad, like any proud father, fills the clinic walls with his daughter's military bio photos, news clippings, and updates. Every time Phillips came in with his mother's cats, he saw the latest chapter of Emily's career. Eventually, he nominated her. "I think he just saw all of the things plastered on my dad's wall," she said, laughing. It's a very Salem story — a community staying connected across decades and distance, a father's quiet pride becoming someone else's reason to pay attention.

A self-described introvert, Emily has found that the Navy consistently asked her to do the thing that didn't come naturally: lead, communicate, and apply knowledge in rooms full of people. She embraced it. She also found unexpected rewards in the discipline — including, she noted with warmth, never having to decide what to wear.

Today, she serves at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, providing eye care to the same institution where her brother Jesse was once a midshipman. Her husband, Jeremy, a retired Army combat engineer, and their daughters Nora and Margaret share that life with her. The circle from Salem to Annapolis is long, and still going.

If she could sit down beside the younger version of herself in a high school classroom and offer something useful, she knows what she'd say. Being different is okay. Challenges aren't the end. Stay curious — not just in academics, but in everything. And trust that even the hard experiences carry something worth keeping.

"Ultimately," she said, "everything's going to work out okay."