The story of service is often told in medals and memories, carried from one generation to the next. Mine is such a story. I am a third-generation wartime veteran, following the path of my grandfather, step-grandfather, and great uncle who served in World War II, and of my father, who was wounded in Vietnam. I too answered the call during the Persian Gulf War, carrying away injuries, both visible and hidden, that shape my ongoing commitment to veterans.

In 2009, after witnessing countless veterans trapped in poverty and homelessness, I founded a nonprofit dedicated to building Green Collar Careers. This was more than job placement—it was restoring dignity, creating self-sufficiency, and honoring service through opportunity. One of the initiatives I remain most proud of is the nation’s first Stand Down for Homeless Women, created in partnership with the Women’s Department of Labor. For too long the struggles of women veterans were ignored; this effort offered them tailored support and visibility.

But progress has not been without setbacks. The Trump administration’s 2016 cuts to alternative credits and veteran stimulus programs undercut the work many of us had advanced. And while healthcare for women veterans improved beyond basic mental health services after 2010, I now see those programs shrinking again, threatening much of what had been gained. Policy shifts like these remind me how fragile progress can be for those who gave their all.

Still, community remains a source of strength. In August, I attended a fundraiser hosted by the Coffee County Democratic Party, where all proceeds—$400 in total—were donated to our local Veterans of Foreign Wars

(VFW). Their effort reflects a simple truth: regardless of partisan labels, veterans deserve steadfast allies. I have personally witnessed how this VFW chapter steps in with food, shelter, and compassion when veterans and families face hardship. That $400 carries more meaning than its dollar amount—it is a symbol of solidarity and respect.

As I look back on these efforts, from grassroots fundraisers to national policy struggles, I am reminded that advocacy for veterans is a lifelong mission. Each act of service, whether in battle or in community, threads together a larger fabric of resilience. Veterans’ sacrifices must be honored not only with gratitude, but with tangible support that ensures health, housing, and opportunity.

To serve is to belong to something greater than oneself. To advocate is to make sure promises to veterans are kept in both word and deed. Let us continue building a future where every veteran finds dignity, support, and the chance to thrive.

Tiki Breedlove-Denham

Beechgrove