Some people never stop showing up
for everyone else. This is for them.

My best friend growing up. On April 11, 2006, at just 21 years old, Kevin ran into a burning home to rescue a woman trapped inside. He didn't make it out. He was posthumously honored, and his family started a foundation in his name that still funds scholarships and training for young firefighters and EMTs today.

I still carry his name — literally, in a tattoo. I briefly volunteered with a fire department myself while in college. Departments like his are common back home in NJ, rarer here in Texas — one more reason this matters to me.

My grandfather, and the man I'm named after — Richard Brydon Ferry. He served in the Army through WWII and Korea, and by family account was among the first troops across the Ludendorff Bridge at Remagen, one of the pivotal crossings of the war.

My grandparents had five daughters and no sons to carry his name forward. My mother was the youngest, and she lost her father before I was ever born. I never met him — but I carry him with me every day.

My "Aunt" Joanne was my mother's best friend and an incredible attorney, and she has been in my corner through some of the hardest chapters of my life — especially after I lost my mom far too soon. Her husband, my "Uncle" Walter, gave his career to the Marine Corps, retiring after a lifetime of service — and then found a new calling volunteering at the hospital.

Family isn't only who you're born to. Sometimes it's who shows up.

We lost Clyde far too recently — it hasn't even been two years. A Marine and a true family friend, Clyde was the kind of person who went out of his way to make sure I had what I needed, professionally and personally, without ever being asked twice.

He and his wife opened their home to me during one of the hardest stretches of my life. That's not something I'll ever forget, and it's not something I take lightly building this program in his memory.