Dear Family, I’ve struggled for weeks trying to decide what I might say to you once I finished wrapping quilts and as I prepared to send them into your care. As I finish this project that’s taken a year and been compiled with so much love, I’m filled with enough emotion to fill six pages! So I’ll try to keep it simple, and then provide you with what you need to learn more, if you like. Let me begin by explaining what inspired me. My mother was a career paramedic -- one of the first in the state of Kentucky -- and eventually served as director of the small volunteer ambulance service in the tiny rural town where we lived, a town not unlike West in many regards. Daddy, a pharmacist, served on the fire department board and ran the town drugstore. By 12 years old, I’d been strapped to spine boards, worn MAST trousers, been certified in CPR and HAZMAT response, and probably could’ve performed the Heimlich maneuver in my sleep. So I grew up with ambulances and fire trucks as a playground and first responders as a family. Your tragedy struck last year just one month after my mother -- in my care for the last two years -- finally lost her struggle with cancer. When I heard the news about West, I found myself moved by the loss of so many first responders -- volunteers in a small town. From a personal standpoint, it was a time when I desperately needed something to throw myself into. I needed to do something to serve others, something that could occupy my mind and my hands, and that it might honor her memory is simply another bonus for me. Thus, the idea was born to make quilts for you, the families of first responders who gave their lives in an effort to protect unknown others. I began contacting people who’d done charity quilting before for guidance. I recruited friends who quilted and even people who’d barely sewn a stitch. We selected a simple piecing technique and uniform fabrics representative of firefighters and, of course, one in a blue and white colorway for an EMT. It’s amazing the ease with which people can be inspired to contribute to something larger than themselves, and your loved one’s story resonated with all these people. Even when I began to feel overwhelmed by what I’d taken on, God sent the right people to me at the right times to get it done. From my next door neighbor to church friends, to military friends across the nation, to businesses, shop owners and guild representatives who fielded cold calls from me, the response was wide and powerful. Your story resonated with all of us because everyone has experienced some form of loss. If I’ve learned anything about death, it’s that there’s no good way to lose a loved one. The timing is never right, the circumstances never easy. But in the eyes of a warrior, your loved one died a noble death -- something you can be enormously proud of. Despite having never met them, I know enough about these men -- and the families that shaped them -- to know they were extraordinary. Thank you for instilling in them the desire to serve, and thank you for the tremendous gift they gave. May God’s blessings be with you as you heal and move forward with the memory of their bravery and of the person you dearly loved.
