TRUE GRIT
Meet These Great American Families
Listening Is How We Honor Them
It is vital for our mission that you hear their stories—not simply to be informed or moved, but so they can have a voice. And in their voices, you can hear their courage and grit that makes us proud to be of service.
These families shared their stories with us, trusting that we would carry them forward and amplify them with care.
PODCAST EPISODES
You can hear the courage in their voices. Strong, resilient survivors recount the events leading up to that tragedic day.
Matthew Ridley
I married my high school sweetheart. We were married 24 years with 2 children. I was so proud of Matthew the day he joined the United States Army. He was deployed three times.
On his last deployment, he was attacked by a suicide car bomber that left only three survivors. My husband was one of them.
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On October 24th I came home from work only to find my husband’s body dead on our bathroom floor. A suicide letter on the bed dated a week prior. I lost everything, our home, our cars, I watched them all get taken away one by one. But most of all I lost the love of my life and best friend. Once A Soldier helped me tremendously. Thank you. – Kristen
Jared Johns
The very last night that he was over here at my house, I had cooked dinner for our whole family. We sat in my living room and I was holding Kylan, Jared’s nephew. I began to rock him and sing an old hymn entitled “He Leadeth Me”.
Jared began to sing along with me, as well as his sister, his twin brother, and my husband. We all sang the entire song together sitting in my living room. It would be the very last time we would ever be together as a family with Jared alive.
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From Kathy, Jared’s Mom:
This seems like an almost impossible task to even do as the mother of a fallen soldier. I say that because PTSD is what took my son so I don’t look at it as a suicide.
My sweet Jared was passionate about a lot of things in his life. He was passionate about music and singing in the choir at church. Being in the chorus and drama club in high school. As passionate as he was about those two things he was just as passionate about football and playing softball.
Jared was a well-rounded person before joining the Army. He had his head on straight and he was very focused. It was never the same when he came back from Germany and Afghanistan. He was never my sweet Jared again. After he had his sons though, it helped him tremendously to start becoming that same compassionate person that he once was and it appeared that he was winning the battle with PTSD.
The very last night that he was over here at my house and I had cooked dinner for everyone, we sat in my living room and I was holding Kylan, Jared’s nephew, which was my newest grand baby. I began to rock him and sing an old hymn entitled “He Leadeth Me”.
Jared began to sing along with me, as well as his sister, his twin brother, and my husband and we all sang the entire song together sitting in my living room. It would be the very last time we would ever be together as a family with Jared alive. I will forever cherish that moment because little did I know that it would be my very last time singing with my sweet Jared. I could go on and on about my son, but there isn’t a lot more to say that I can focus on because he was just a sweet compassionate, loving soul that loved his country, and loved his family but he was fighting a dark battle from serving this country that in the end took his life.
I shared the link to a video of when he surprised me by coming home. It says a lot about who he was and how very much he was loved. And will be missed.
Mickey Keeney
For years, Mickey battled depression and anxiety. He sought help, took medication, and did everything he was supposed to do. But sometimes, intrusive thoughts take over.
There were nights when he would hold it to his head and ask, “What if I just pull the trigger now?” We would always tell him to stop, and he never did—until that night.
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On the evening of April 15, Mickey had spent the day working in the yard. He was in extreme pain by the time his wife returned home. He greeted her with “Hello, beautiful,” but she immediately began yelling about something being moved in her daughter’s room. Mickey argued that the dog had done it, and the argument escalated. At approximately 5:40 p.m., he grabbed her pistol and said, “How about I just end this now?” He put the gun to his chin, and it discharged. We don’t know if it was intentional or accidental—he was a big man, and this was a smaller pistol. We tell ourselves it was an accident because that’s the only way we can cope. His wife said the look on his face when the gun went off was instant regret. He died instantly. It was tragic. It was unexpected.
Mickey was transported from Georgia to Maryland for burial. Due to the pandemic, he wasn’t given full military honors. However, we played Taps from a distance, and our father and Mickey’s son folded the flag themselves, knowing the process from their own military service. We honored him as best we could under the circumstances, playing “Amazing Grace” at the cemetery. Unfortunately, many friends and family members were unable to attend due to restrictions.
The VA contributed $300 toward his headstone, which was part of the $1,800 my mother initially paid to the funeral home. I personally covered an unexpected $6,000 funeral cost, which was supposed to be reimbursed once his life insurance was processed. However, we later learned that the VA would not be providing life insurance benefits because Mickey did not have a 100% disability rating. This is incredibly difficult to accept, as PTSD was a documented part of his disability, and his death certificate listed PTSD as a cause.
That’s why I reached out to Once A Soldier and anyone else who might have resources to help with funeral costs. His wife may not even receive her private life insurance payout due to the policy’s strict suicide clause. She cannot contribute to the debt my mother and I now carry. On top of everything, I refinanced his truck to prevent repossession. That truck was his escape—his safe space. Every night, he would sit in it, listen to music, and call family and friends.
Mickey was loved. He is missed. And he deserved better.
What Remains Podcast
First-Hand Accounts of Veteran Suicide
In these episodes, two widows share their heartbreaking experiences—the exact moments that changed their lives forever. By sharing the “after,” they hope to reach those still fighting the “before.”
Important Note
These episodes contain graphic descriptions of suicide and may be emotionally triggering.
Short Stories Long on Impact
“He Did Everything Right”— But Now Everything is Wrong
In 2017, a veteran decided his battle was over. He was detail-oriented and left nothing to chance. He left his wife meticulous instructions, including all banking login credentials, and chose to shoot himself in the chest so his family could have an open-casket funeral. He thought he was taking care of them.
When his widow called us in April 2023, she had been through hell just to keep their home. The children wanted to stay, and the financial situation became so desperate that she eventually had to sell the house to her 18-year-old son just to keep it in the family. They are now struggling to put food on the table. The moral of the story: No matter how much you “plan,” your family is always worse off without you.
“Daddy’s Bleeding From His Nose”
This veteran suffered from PTSD for years before taking his life in the family home. Tragically, his 7-year-old daughter was the first to find him. Not understanding the finality of what she saw, she told her mother, “Daddy’s bleeding from his nose.” We provided funds to cover funeral costs and long-term mental health assistance for a family now haunted by that image.
A Battle of Three Attempts
When his mother called us, she was devastated. Her son’s roommate was the one who found him. She shared that her son had reached the breaking point twice before, sitting with a revolver in his mouth but unable to pull the trigger. On January 26, 2022, the darkness finally won. He took his life outside, behind his apartment complex.
“I’ve Got to Go”
A Jacksonville veteran was on the phone with his brother after Sunday church. It seemed like a normal conversation, though the family sensed he was not quite himself. As the call ended, the veteran said, “I’ve got to go.” His brother thought he was simply hanging up the phone. Instead, he heard a gunshot. It was over. We received the call the following Monday and stepped in to help.
Alone During the Holidays
Jeremy lived with the silent pain of service-related PTSD. He lived alone, and his sister grew worried when she didn’t hear from him over the holidays. When the door to his apartment was finally opened, he was found just inside the entrance. It was estimated he had been gone for 12 days before he was discovered. We honored his memory by covering the costs of his cremation.
For happy memories of the fallen, read our Silver Lining Stories.