Veteran Suicide Awareness Walk -- Operation Wild Horse

****** Veteran Crisis Line – call : 1-800-273-8255 or text: 838255******

Veteran suicide is not topic that is easy to discuss, but it is necessary to talk about.

September is Suicide Awareness month.  Operation Wild Horse – Veterans R&R puts the painful topic at the forefront. 

The outdoor walk guides participants in a 2.2-mile trek down the road and up one of the steepest hills in the area. Veterans, civilians, wild mustangs, and burros make the difficult climb in solidarity. Civilians walk so veterans know they have their back, and veterans walk because they’ve all been touched by suicide.

The 2.2 miles represents the 22 veterans the United States loses to suicide each day. I am crushed every time I hear this number.  Every life is valuable. I strongly believe that. We were created at this particular moment in history for a specific purpose.  When one light goes out … the world is dimmer. 

Operation Wild Horse began to keep the light in this world. The organization gives hope to veterans. As non-profit serving veterans and active-duty military and their family, OWH knows the value of pairing mustangs – the classic symbol of both Americana and freedom – and the military – the heroes who protect that freedom.

Operation Wild Horse rescues the endangered American icon and gives them a home in Bull Valley, Illinois, where they are given a second chance at life, and, in doing so, allows military families to find a second chance as well. 

One visit to the barn is all a person needs to soak in the peace and positivity that abounds at Operation Wild Horse. From veterans helping out around the facility, to board members visiting to ensure things are going well, to volunteers assisting with a variety of jobs, smiles and hugs await. These veterans honestly share the impact the horses, President USMC veteran Jimmy Welch, and Program Director Patti Gruber have had on their lives. Many firmly believe that the horses saved their lives -- and they give back a hundred-fold. Those who were unable to walk the giant hill helped in whatever capacity they could.

I’ve heard these men and women talk and cry about the blessing this facility is to them. I’ve talked with countless veterans who describe the kind of unspeakable bond they have with horses… and the ability those creatures have to settle their soul and bring a quietness to their minds. The wild mustang knows the plight of the veteran. The wild mustang has learned to fight for freedom. The wild mustang knows what trauma feels like when they are rounded up only to live a life of more trauma or not live at all.

So the veterans, always at the ready, always alert, always seeking adrenaline, understand these horses. They look the mustang in the eye, and their hearts speak what their tongues cannot. They know what it feels like to be forced to shift their mission, and their new mission is to save one another. And it is a beautiful.

So, the Suicide Awareness walk is not an empty walk. The cost to participate in the walk helps support Operation Wild Horse – Veterans R&R so they can reach more military families. 

Veterans from the Korean War up to current conflicts have benefitted and continue to benefit from the organization, and seeing the tremendous support from the community is inspiring. Men and women who lived in the area popped in because they believe in Operations Wild Horse. Veterans and their families walked side-by-side, supporting each other and the community that makes this safe haven possible. 

You can support them, too, at:  https://veteransrandr.org/operation-wild-horse/

If you are a veteran or active-duty military, also check them out.

If you or a veteran you love needs help, please call the veteran crisis line: 1-800-273-8255 or text: 838255

Your life is valuable.  You have a purpose. 

Twentieth Anniversary of 9/11 Reflection and images from the William Chandler Peterson American Legion Post 171 ceremony with Lt. Col. Yantis

Twenty years ago – before the news apps that sent alerts to our phones in real time, before every classroom had internet, before communications became constant – I was standing before high school juniors, getting ready to begin period two. 

I remember a student coming in saying that the Twin Towers were gone. I brushed him off, knowing that was incomprehensible. Afterall, my father was supposed to be flying out to New York, and, surely, I would have known.

But, then, the principal announced on the PA system that the United States of American was under attack, and that planes had crashed into those buildings.

In a world of disconnect – when I couldn’t text my mom – I spent my passing periods begging the teacher across the hall to help me figure out where those planes took off. In my news-locked world, I couldn’t comprehend the magnitude.

It was only when I got home and had the ability to watch the news that I had any idea – and, at the time, it was pretty vague yet – what was truly happening. It was a time without access to 24/7 news, and news was just pouring over every channel. It was then that I saw the gravity.

My father’s plane was grounded before he even got to the airport, and I don’t think I fully comprehended how thankful I was until years later.

Today, twenty years later, I still get chills when this day comes around. I still feel anxious. I still cry when I see images of that fateful day. I still remember the eeriness of a vacant sky. 

I couldn’t believe that life would ever look the same.

Twenty years and a pandemic later, my entire life perspective has changed. I was a brand-new English teacher then, without a husband, without a family, without any inkling of what my own future would hold. I had so much to learn after that before I could unpack this day.

People talk about the heroes that day. People talk about those who lost their lives. People talk about those who survived. People talk.

I’m a person who is moved by images, too. Older, with children of my own, I see videos and stills of strangers pouring water on strangers’ faces to clear the debris. I see strangers holding hands, dragging them out to safety. I see first responders doing what they do without question. I see people running in where I think – no, I know – I might have run out. In those images, I see despair being pierced by strangers who held out hope. I see an America where people came together to support and raised up strangers, upheld our democracy, and reached across political aisles and religious aisles in unity under our flag.

My country is still that country. I have had twenty more years to become more experienced. I have had twenty more years to meet people who are real-life superheroes.  I have had twenty more years to understand the pain, but twenty more years to understand the compassion.

I witnessed veterans coming together yesterday – I listened as a Vietnam veteran and an Afghanistan veteran talked about their very different returns.  And I thought about how much those two groups now have in common.

We are a country distracted, Lt. Col. U.S. Army (ret.) Ryan Yantis said as he spoke in Crystal Lake. We are a country distracted, much like we were twenty years ago. He said we are arguing and not listening and not paying attention, while another country, with “angry men who want to hurt us,” looms unnoticed in the distance.

Lt. Col. Yantis was in the Pentagon that day – mere minutes before the attack, he had stood in that space. He survived. And he told me that he spoke today, from “scars and not wounds.”

He spoke about the other survivors – from all areas – who recall the first responders who helped them – the stoic ones who were determined to climb the stairs and save anyone they could.  Yantis, himself, remembered the people who brought food, signs, and encouragement in the days after the attack, which he said brought those who had survived, comfort. 

He spoke of the flags flying across the nation, and the surge of patriotism – where, people put the division aside, took a breath, and spoke to one another, and, above all, listened.

 And, as Yantis encouraged those in attendance today to remember the cost – the people whose lives were lost and the people whose lives were changed forever – but to never forget, and to “find common ground,” and to “be the people helping others,” his message spoke to me more than any.

I think these are the words on the tongues of nearly all Americans: We need more common ground and less division. The men and women who fight for our country deserve that. The men and women who died on September 11 deserve that. 

Images from the Crystal Lake 9/11 Memorial Ceremony hosted by William Chandler Peterson American Legion Post 171, The USMC, Operation Wild Horse, Crystal Lake Police Department and Fire Department, and Lt. Col. US Army (ret.) Ryan Yantis.