Grateful American: A Journey from Self to Service(92)
Since beginning this program in 2012, more than seventy-seven thousand people have come to our festivals at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego, Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, and at Walter Reed and Fort Belvoir in the DC area. We’ve seen firsthand the importance of these festivals for the folks enduring long stays at the hospital. It’s so easy to forget people going through long-term rehabilitation. Maybe they were wounded four years ago, and they’re still in the hospital today. Or maybe they were wounded years ago and healed, but they need to return for follow-up work. The wounded troops and their family members tell me time and time again how getting out of the hospital for a day and being appreciated and loved is a tremendous encouragement to them.
My foundation’s final program is called Relief and Resiliency Outreach. This is an umbrella program where we simply try to help veterans and their families in any way possible, including those recovering from trauma, injury, or loss.
Within the umbrella is a mentoring program. I’ve had a long relationship with the Disabled American Veterans (DAV) and know several wounded veterans who’ve lived with their injuries for decades, so I thought of providing an opportunity to introduce some of our younger wounded veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan to veterans from previous wars. I met with Jim Sursely, a Vietnam veteran triple amputee and a former national commander of the DAV, to gauge his interest and get his thoughts. He responded positively and said he would love to be involved and that he would discuss it with DAV leadership. I then proposed the idea to Ken Falke, founder of the Boulder Crest retreat centers, with locations in Bluemont, Virginia, and near Tucson, Arizona, and asked him to host the events. Ken was on board, the DAV was on board, and the mentoring program began. Several veterans have participated in the retreats, and it’s been a positive experience for all.
The foundation established an emergency relief fund to help military veterans and first responders in need when times were tough. Many of these stories are so heartbreaking, and it is always tough, but it’s also a joy for me to sit down and write letters to these deserving families as we send the small donations we are able to make through the generosity of the American people who support the Gary Sinise Foundation.
Emotional wounds need healing also. We recognize this and host uplifting events and group activities for vets and their families going through similar struggles. By building a community of strong friendships and forming joyful, lasting memories, these people can find new hope for the future together. We’ve been able to help more than eight thousand people this way.
The simple story here is that from its creation in 2011, the foundation has grown into a friendly giant. We’ve gone from one donor—just me in the beginning—to a base of more than forty-five thousand donors and an annual budget of nearly $30 million. In our early years, a terrific board of directors formed, and along with Judy Otter, these board members played a significant role in our expansion. Our growth has been terrific, and it is my sincere hope and belief that if I fell off the earth tomorrow, something important would be left behind that would continue to help people.
We’re getting great things done. But there’s lots more work to do, and we are always looking for more ways we can help our nation’s defenders. I like to spread this message, a motto we’ve come to live by at the foundation. That motto holds that while we can never do enough to show our gratitude to our nation’s defenders, veterans, first responders, and the families who serve alongside them, we can always do a little more.
CHAPTER 17
Why I’m Still on a Mission
Each person on this planet is here for a purpose. As the years have rolled on, I’ve come to believe that purpose is to care for other people and to help this world become a better place through service to others. This belief is part of my life’s mission.
As I’ve gotten older, I have seen more clearly the fragility of life. How love and beauty and service and action and declining health and infirmity can all mix together. I’ve seen life’s brevity too, hearing how the clock constantly ticks. I find myself getting up earlier and earlier and staying up later as time goes on, fearing that I won’t be able to get in everything I’d like to do. And when you grasp how close we all are to the realities beyond the veil, you never want to waste another day.
In April 2014, my brother-in-law Jack Treese was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Jack had served as a medic in the army, and after Vietnam he became a physician’s assistant. His wife, Amy, started teaching elementary school after her service in the army. Jack and I had grown very close over the years, and he and Amy had moved in with us a few years before the diagnosis. A month after he found out he had cancer, we moved to a new property with a guesthouse, and he and Amy moved into that. Jack had become my right-hand man before he got cancer, and I took him to Afghanistan with me, to Iraq twice, and all over the States. When I filmed Ransom in New York, he worked as my assistant. He became more like a brother than a brother-in-law. After the cancer diagnosis, Jack began chemo and radiation treatments. Gradually, he grew weaker and weaker.
Meanwhile, Sophie had fallen in love with a young man she’d known from their days in high school together, Bobby George, and they set their wedding for September 2014. All of us, including Jack, felt so happy for the young couple. After the ceremony at the church, we held the reception at our house. Jack was unable to attend because he was so weak from the cancer by then. From his room in our guesthouse, he could hear the festivities, and he gave us all his blessing. I know he wanted only the best for his niece. The entire day unfolded paradoxically, as we experienced both beauty and difficulty, joy and pain. Three days after the wedding, Jack passed away.