Episode 32: "If Not Me, Then Who?" – A Lesson about Personal Passion & Leadership from the Travis Manion Foundation

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast.

On today’s episode, we share a story of a group of veterans and their families who visited the carousel from the Travis Manion Foundation a couple of weeks ago. You’ll learn about the mission of the organization, its leadership philosophy, and the meaning of the organization’s motto – “If not me, then who.”

Want to learn more about the Travis Manion Foundation? Check out their website here. (https://www.travismanion.org/)

In case you missed it – watch the Carousel of Happiness on the CBS national news!

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

Check out the carousel on the CBS national news! https://www.cbsnews.com/news/carousel-daydream-helped-marine-get-through-vietnam-war-he-then-made-that-carousel-a-reality/

If you enjoy the podcast, please consider visiting the Carousel of Happiness online (https://carouselofhappiness.org/), on social media (https://www.facebook.com/carouselofhappiness), or in real life. Or consider donating (https://carouselofhappiness.org/once-donate/) to keep the carousel and its message alive and spinning 'round and 'round.

If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as ou...

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

On last week’s episode, I shared an interview I did last week with Ron Francis. Ron is the host of the Peace, Love, Moto Podcast, a podcast that explores the intersection between mindfulness and motorcycling. He lives nearby in Loveland and has been a fan of the carousel since the very beginning. We had a lovely conversation about all sorts of stuff: what it was like to have the CBS national news at the carousel, how my own personal path linked up with the carousel, and what I really mean at the end of each show when I say “don’t delay joy.” Be sure to check it out, in case you missed it.

On today’s episode, I’m going to share a story of a group of veterans and their families who visited the carousel from the Travis Manion Foundation a couple of weeks ago. You’ll learn about the mission of the organization, how participants experienced the carousel, and we’ll talk about the meaning of the organization’s motto – “If not me, then who.”

Let us begin with today’s story.

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At the end of July, we welcomed a group of veterans and their families from the Travis Manion Foundation to the carousel. Every year, a group comes to visit as part of the organization’s Spartan Leadership Program, which offers a path for veterans and families of fallen veterans to connect passion with purpose and leverage their own experiences to develop leadership skills. 

This program is top-notch. They recognize that veterans and their families are uniquely positioned to motivate others and they facilitate that latent advantage by focusing on character-based education and positive psychology. They believe that personal purpose leads to passion and thriving. 

I’m going to say that again – personal purpose leads to passion and thriving.

This belief comes directly from Travis Manion himself. As you might have guessed, the Travis Manion Foundation is named after 1stLt Travis Manion of the United States Marine Corps. Travis graduated from the Naval Academy in 2004 and was deployed to Iraq in 2005 for his first tour of duty.

After returning home, Travis was selected to be part of an experienced military transition team that deployed to Iraq as part of Operation Iraqi Freedom. In late December 2006, Travis returned to Iraq, joining ten other Marines for an assignment in Fallujah.

In the brief window Travis had stateside between these two deployments, he attended a Philadelphia Eagles football game with his brother-in-law, Dave. The mood was light and the Eagles had won. As Travis and Dave were leaving the stadium, they walked down a flight of stairs.

And even though they were in such a good mood, Dave couldn’t shake the fact that Travis was about to return to Iraq so soon. As they walked down the stairs, Dave joked with Travis – hey, I could nudge you a little bit, push you down the stairs, and maybe you’d twist an ankle and you wouldn’t have to go back.

That’s when Travis got quiet. Serious. And he looked at Dave and said, if I don’t go back to Iraq, someone less prepared than me is going to go in my place. He said to Dave, “If not me, then who?”

Travis went back to Iraq and on April 29, 2007, about 4 months into his second deployment, he and his fellow Marines were on patrol in Fallujah. They were looking for a sniper who had been wreaking havoc on the area and had received intel that the sniper was in a particular building. The Marines entered the building and almost immediately realized it was an ambush. 

When the Corpsman, or medical specialist, of the patrol got severely wounded by enemy fire, Travis and a fellow Marine came out of hiding, at their own risk, to rescue him. Travis administered first aid to the Corpsman and then led a counterattack. 

During the counterattack, yet another Marine was shot. Travis, again, moved into the kill zone, taking fire from five insurgents, to rescue the wounded Marine. 

Insurgents then surrounded their patrol, forcing Travis and his team to take fire from three sides. Travis exposed himself once more to draw enemy fire away from his wounded Marines and was fatally shot by an enemy sniper. 

His courageous and deliberate actions ultimately saved the lives of every single member of his patrol. Because of his decisive leadership, unlimited courage, and utmost devotion to duty, First Lieutenant Travis Manion was awarded both the Silver Star and Bronze Star with Valor. 

And while Travis is no longer with us, his legacy lives on. His family started the Travis Manion Foundation in order to empower veterans and the families of fallen heroes to develop character in future generations. The foundation’s programs are designed to develop, heal, and bring together veterans, families of the fallen, youth, and inspired civilians from all walks of life.

When the group from the Travis Manion Foundation arrived at the carousel in July, it was clear a handful of them were not exactly sure what they were doing at a carousel in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. 

We asked them to circle the carousel and then Scott stepped into the center. With a microphone in hand, he shared with 40 other veterans his personal journey. From Vietnam to Nederland, from the battlefield to a mountain meadow, all by way of a very special carousel. 

He then pointed to the spot on the wall where two folded American flags and a plaque hang. The section of the carousel where we honor the two men to whom the carousel was dedicated – Paul Christmas and Christian Langenfeld – who lost their lives the day Scott was injured. 

Scott emphasized how important he thinks it is to say the names of our fallen aloud. How important it is to say their names even if it hurts. Even if the words don’t come easily. Even if the tears flow. If we are able to say their names, they remain alive to us; they are not forgotten. 

We passed the mic around the room, offering participants the opportunity to share a memory or a story of someone who had served who was no longer with us. Scott insisted, repeatedly, that no one was in a hurry. It didn’t matter how long it took to get the words out, it didn’t matter how many tears; we had all of the time in the world. 

We heard from participants who lost friends and loved ones both on the battlefield and at home. What struck me, personally, was how many of the younger veterans seemed to have lost their lives by their own hands. 

What I later found out is that over 30,000 veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan alone have died by suicide in the last 20 years. Compare that to the 7,053 service members who actually died in combat over the course of all of the post-9/11 wars. For those non-mathematicians, that means four times as many service members lost their lives by their own hands than died in combat. Four times.

Explaining why that is is outside the scope of this podcast, but in watching the participants at the carousel, I get it. For many, simply re-telling the story of their loved ones or saying their names aloud evoked lots of big, messy feelings.

But Scott’s insistence and encouragement that everyone share, if they felt called to, and him modeling that himself, by sharing his own story, even as he choked up and his voice cracked, felt really, really important. 

And it felt important to me too. I shared a story about my dad. A Navy pilot who served in the First Iraq War. He didn’t lose his life there, but his misuse of alcohol that followed eventually led to the disintegration of our family, and the deaths of both him and my mother.

The ripple effects of military service are messy and difficult to pinpoint. In some ways, it feels like it would have been cleaner, easier to understand, had I lost my dad in Baghdad rather than watch him slowly drift away.

Service members are human beings just like the rest of us. And it feels like, to me, their service puts them on the front lines of not just the battlefield, but also the broad spectrum of human emotions. The most complicated and dynamic parts of who I am, both good and bad, largely come from my father’s service and later my own. 

Which is why, I suppose, the Travis Manion Foundation recognizes that veterans and their families are uniquely positioned to lead. To motivate. Because service requires a willingness to jump in, to get messy, to figure it out. It makes you roll up your sleeves and do the things others are hesitant to do. 

Which is what Travis did in Iraq. It’s what Scott did, not just in Vietnam, but every single day since. And it’s what the participants from the Travis Manion Foundation did at the carousel, when they, one by one, wrestled with their own feelings and emotions publicly to share a memory of someone they had loved.

“If not me, then who,” is what Travis said to his brother-in-law at that football game. If I don’t do the thing I was called to do, who else will?

You might not ever, Dear Listener, serve in the military, but the truth is, you are here for a reason. To be a parent. An artist. A gardener. A friend. You are here, just like Travis was, for a unique and special reason.

There has never nor will there ever be another you. With your specific blend of quirks, talents, and, yes, peccadilloes. If you don’t be you, in all of your glorious humanness, who else will?

After a silent spin in memory of the fallen, the group hopped up on the carousel for a ride. They laughed, took pictures, and teased one another. The tears on their cheeks had dried and for a brief moment they were basking in the glow of that three-minute ride. 

That three-minute ride that ultimately is the end result of Scott’s answer to “If not me, then who?” That three-minute ride that holds all of the complexities of what it means to be a human being. That three-minute ride that gave them a brief respite from the big feelings of the day.

Being a human being, regardless of military service, is not for the faint of heart. It is messy and complicated and sometimes feels so, so bad before it feels good.

Travis and I are the same age. And had my father gotten his way, Travis and I would have graduated from the Naval Academy the exact same year. 

But that wasn’t my path, that was his. And the choice to resist that path caused so much tension between my father and me. And his palpable disappointment in me weighed heavily on me for many, many years.

But I know now there are many ways to lead from within. Some involve uniforms and patrols in the desert. Others involve decades of late nights in a woodshop, chipping away at wooden pandas or dolphins. And others still involve finding words for it all and speaking them into a microphone.   

And what I learned from Travis that day, and what I have learned from Scott, is that your personal purpose, the thing that drives you from within, is what inspires others. And it’s unique to you. No one else can tell you what it is and how to express it.

Even if the words don’t come easily. Even if it hurts. Even if you get turned around and turned around again. No one’s in a rush. There is time. For you to authentically express your personal purpose. And the way you do that, is leadership. It’s how you motivate.

And, according to the Travis Manion Foundation, personal purpose is what leads to passion and thriving. For not just you, but for others.

It is my hope for you, Dear Listener, that you go forth into your day knowing you uniquely matter. Knowing that the things that light you up are what guide you on your unique path. And, if you follow that path long enough, and you chip away at it bit by bit, you just might end up surrounded by something beautiful you can share with the world. 

In the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.