Our very first What’s Brewing gathering brought together First Responders, Veterans, Military families — and those who walk alongside them. We didn’t have a big stage or a flashy agenda. Just a few chairs, some hot coffee, and a space to exhale. But what came out of that space? That was everything.

Because here’s what no one tells you about this life:
Even when the uniform comes off, the weight doesn’t.

We heard from a parent who can’t take their eyes off their child at the park — not because they don’t trust them, but because their “spidey senses” never shut off.
We listened to someone describe how exhausting it is to always be the strong one — and how it reshapes the way their kids now see the world.
We sat with stories of hypervigilance, shame, pride, and grief — woven together with a quiet thread of hope.

And then someone said something that stopped us in our tracks:

“I’ve supported Legacy for years… but I had no idea the houses were used that much. Sixty-two thousand nightly stays? Why isn’t this being talked about more?”

Why, indeed.

Because this is the silent crisis.
These are the invisible ripples.
And this is exactly why What’s Brewing exists.

It’s our bi-monthly chance to share what’s happening at Legacy Place Society — yes — but more than that, it’s a place to feel seen. To talk about what’s real. To connect without having to explain why your shoulders are always tense, or why you don’t sleep, or why the idea of taking your kids camping feels impossible.

We shared updates on Legacy Place Acres, our nature-based sanctuary for frontline families. We invited questions about upcoming workshops and housing. We checked in — really checked in — with those who often don’t get asked, “How are you doing, really?”

And as one attendee commented:

“I didn’t even realize how unsafe I felt… until I finally didn’t have to explain myself anymore.”

That’s what What’s Brewing is all about.

Not therapy. Not a presentation. Just real conversation, honest connection, and a chance to remember that you’re not alone — no matter what role you serve or support.

We believe in community care,  and that means making space for the people behind the uniform, and for the families who stand beside them.

So whether you’re a long-time supporter or just getting to know us, What’s Brewing is your invitation to join the conversation. Drop in. Connect. Learn what’s brewing — at Legacy, and in the lives of those we serve.

Because healing starts with being heard. And sometimes, all it takes is a cup of coffee.

#WhatsBrewing #LegacyPlaceSociety #BehindTheFrontline #FirstResponderFamily #MentalHealthAwareness #CommunityCare #EndTheStigma

This heartfelt letter from a cop’s wife offers a raw and intimate look into the sacrifices, challenges, and love shared within law enforcement families. It serves as a reminder of the strength, courage, and resilience officers display daily, often unseen by the public. Through this letter, a cop’s wife reflects on the personal struggles and profound pride in supporting her partner, a police officer, as he navigates a career full of risks and rewards. The life of a cop’s wife is one of constant worry, sacrifice, and unwavering support for her partner.

The Preparation Before the Shift

I wish you guys could see his face, his preparation, and his determination before he leaves for a shift. As a cop’s wife, I watch him carefully prepare, knowing he’s ready for whatever challenges the night may bring. His face may be tired from long hours, but in his heart, he couldn’t feel more alive living out his calling. As the wife of a cop, I see firsthand how his commitment goes beyond the uniform; it’s about serving the community. He prepares endlessly, whether through physical or spiritual training, and the determination of a WARRIOR radiates from his being. He’s ready for battle, and his goal at the end of every shift is to go HOME, where he’s loved and where he’s safe.

Late Night “What If” Talks

I wish you guys could be a fly on the wall as we lay there in the dark at night, quiet, hearts beating loud as we have those “What if” talks . . . We plan out our family’s future as if he weren’t in the picture anymore, funeral plans, and how I would make income to supplement his after he’s gone.

The anguish in my heart is so loud at times, but then peace calms my spirit as he graciously says, “I will be called home by God to God doing what I loved the most, face to face with my Creator. If I’m at peace with that, then you need to be at peace with that as well.”

. . . There wouldn’t be a dry eye in the room. As a cop’s wife, I feel that weight every day, knowing the dangers that lurk just around the corner.

The True Sacrifice and Commitment of a Cop’s Wife

I wish you guys would truly appreciate him, his sacrifices, and his service before God forbid he became a news alert on your phone, a Facebook article you read, or an officer’s funeral that you attend. He’s human, he’s a peacemaker, and he’s my husband. He’s the father and mentor to our children. I sometimes wonder if people truly understand what it means to be the partner of a police officer, to be the cop’s wife who stands beside him through every challenge, every shift, every change in the world he navigates daily.

He doesn’t do this for the pay, he doesn’t do it for retirement, and he doesn’t do this for “show.” He chose this career as a lifelong profession because it’s his calling in life. He endures it to make a difference in the life of a suspect or civilian. He can give wisdom to a felon and healing to a victim. He’s my Super Hero, better than any Marvel character you could possibly think of. And yet, at the end of the day, as a cop’s wife, I know it’s me he’s coming home to.

How You Can Support Law Enforcement Families

Lastly, whenever you think of us, could you pray for us? Whenever you see another article, good or bad, about an officer no matter the region, keep our Thin Blue Line family in prayer as well. Pray for our marriage, that we’d endure and surpass the divorce rate that’s skyrocketing within law enforcement marriages. Pray for our home, that it would be his safe haven and filled with PEACE when he comes home from the most un-peaceful situations. Pray for our children, that they wouldn’t listen to the media or chatter they hear at school, but that they would ultimately know that their father is a good and noble man, a hero and a man of valor. As a cop’s wife, I feel these struggles deeply, knowing the pressure it places on our family.

A Final Prayer for the Cop Behind the Badge

In closing, pray for him . . . the human behind the badge. Pray that he would keep fighting for peace and justice in a world that screams hate and injustice towards him. Pray that God would bring him home every single day after every single shift, to his family that waits hours for his return. Pray that he would use wisdom in split-second decisions that could have a lifetime effect. I pray this not only for him but for all officers and their families. For the strength to keep going and for the safety of all our law enforcement officers. As a cop’s wife, it’s these prayers that keep me going, hoping for his safe return after every shift.

Standing Together in Harmony: A Cop’s Wife

I hope that as the media stirs the pot amongst the law enforcement community, that you would stand by us. Our family is honored to live this life and wouldn’t take it back for anything. Thank you to those who have loved and supported us on this ever-changing journey we call LIFE. As a cop’s wife. I cherish the support we get from our community. I also long for more understanding of what it truly means to be part of a law enforcement family.

Love, A Proud Cop’s Wife

Helpful Links:

• National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Fund
• Support for Law Enforcement Families
• Challenges of Law Enforcement Families
• Support for Cop’s Wives and First Responders

A heartfelt client story from the perspective of a First Responder’s spouse, reflecting on the emotional toll of their partner’s work. The story explores the daily sacrifices that first responders make and how their loved ones experience the toll of their commitment. From facing the unknown on a daily basis to the emotional burden of watching their partners serve, this narrative highlights the strength and resilience of both first responders and their families.

It also touches on the impact of such work on personal lives, relationships, and the emotional toll that comes with it. This story is a powerful reminder of the daily courage and sacrifices made by first responders and the unwavering support of their families who stand behind them through every challenge, knowing that the world can be a dangerous place but proud of the service they give to their communities. Their courage, and the courage of their families, are essential to ensuring safety and security, even in the face of overwhelming adversity.

Today I am sewing another pair of pants. A pair of pants in a pile of many that are torn, have holes worn through, and hems that have completely let go.

With each stitch I sew I am wondering; “When did this hem come un-done?” Did it come un-done when my husband was getting into the police truck? His step weighted down by his duty belt, his kevlar vest, and his broad shoulders that willingly carry the burdens of others? Or was it when he chased on foot the man who had just brutally assaulted his wife? He was running after him because this man punched him and took off claiming he “wasn’t done”.

Maybe it was when he was pushed backwards down a flight of stairs after bending down to help up a child who was left unattended and alone at a house party that had gotten out of control? Or maybe it happened when he ran into a burning building without hesitation to ensure the children who were inside playing with matches had gotten out? It could have been when he climbed inside of a smoking car at the scene of an accident to cut a man free from his seatbelt bringing him to safety at the side of the road while shielding him from the sight of his deceased wife… wait, no, it couldn’t have been then. That happened when we were on vacation. He wasn’t even on duty that day, but that didn’t matter. That never matters.

When you are called you are called 24/7. It doesn’t matter if it is Christmas day or any other holiday, their child’s first birthday or their wedding anniversary, in any moment ‘the called’ will be there for you and for your family, leaving behind their own.

I suppose this hem could have come un-done when he was playing street hockey with some kids in town during a quiet afternoon. Or it could have even unraveled at the hand of a child who was sitting on the floor beside him after a DARE class. The little boy wanted to talk and got his attention by pulling at the cuff of his pants…

As the moments pass and I continue to sew I am overcome with emotion. Suddenly my hands are trembling in anger, confusion, desperation, and sadness and my thoughts shift; “I suppose it doesn’t matter how the hem came un-done, what matters is that I still have to sew his pants”. Today my husband will need his pants. Today duty will call and he will gladly serve. Today he needs to go out that door into the unknown and protect our community. Today my heart will ache at the unknown from the time the door closes and he walks out, until it opens again and he walks through it into my waiting arms. Today I will worry about him more than ever. Today my fear has increased because once again a monster has threatened our well being; – mine, yours, my husband’s, everyone’s. Today there is another First Responder spouse who is mourning an unimaginable, earth shattering, life altering, utterly senseless loss… learning she will never have to sew her husband’s pants ever again. Today she learned that she has to say goodbye.  Today, other First Responders will be dealing with sights, sounds and carnage that takes a terrible toll on the human soul and spirit, on themselves and their families.

Another tear falls down my face as I realize that today I am not just sewing “another pair of pants”. Today I am trying to stitch my world back together after my sense of safety has once again been shaken. Today I mourn with my fellow spouse and spouses. Today just as I hold these pants in my hand I hold a piece of every single First Responder and every one of their family members across Canada in my heart. They are an extension of my family and they are my family. They are my husband, and my two brothers. They are some of my closest friends and confidents. They are my neighbours. They are my family away from home, and wherever I go, they are there.

Everyday, Police Officers, Fire Fighters and Emergency Medical Services, all over the country are working hard to help ensure that you are safe, rescued or treated. Today and every day these men and women are what stand’s between you and a very scary, rapidly unraveling world.  As I take this all in and although my heart is very heavy, I am also beaming with pride. I am beaming with pride because at the end of the day the evil in this world will not win. I know that even if the hem in their pants comes un-done, THEY WILL NOT.  “Together we are strong, together we are fierce, together we stand”.

Flashing lights, burning buildings, and “Police Line Do Not Cross” tape—these are the realities of a police officer’s life. In the midst of crisis, our job is to respond when people are at their most vulnerable. While some may call us heroes, we are simply ordinary people called to a profession that confronts the brokenness of the world. I know firsthand the everyday struggles that First Responders face. I am one.

Throughout my career, I’ve witnessed death, responded to violent crimes, and faced dangerous situations that most people would run from. I’ve delivered the worst news to grieving families, telling them their loved ones have passed away. The sights, sounds, and smells of trauma can haunt you. We are trained to control situations, to stay composed, but it’s hard to turn off those emotions when you walk through the door at home. We’re not supposed to admit we need help. After all, heroes don’t have emotional breakdowns, especially not in front of their families or at work.

Despite my efforts to maintain a normal life, I struggled with anxiety. Simple, everyday things would remind me of past traumatic events, and the weight of my work began to overwhelm me. At home, I was distant, angry, and emotionally unavailable. My family didn’t know when I’d be home or what I would bring with me emotionally when I walked through the door. One day, it all came crashing down, and I found myself with my bags by the door—my family had reached their breaking point and told me to get help.

At first, I was hesitant. I had heard about Legacy Place Society and the support they offer to First Responders (including Police) and military families, but I didn’t think it applied to me. Stubbornly, I convinced myself I could handle it on my own. However, that didn’t last long. I soon realized that I couldn’t do it alone.

Legacy Place Society offered me the support I needed. They provided confidential accommodation in a quiet, peaceful setting, away from the triggers of my daily life. In this space, I was surrounded by others who understood what I was going through. There was no need to “put on a happy face” or hide my emotions; I could express what I was feeling without fear of judgment or losing my job. This was a place where healing could begin—a place of support and encouragement.

The first days were difficult, battling the urge to walk away or fear that I wouldn’t make it through. But after conversations with others and professional counseling, I started to realize that I could get through it. With time, I grew stronger. I learned to make tough decisions, change my behavior, and rebuild my relationship with my family. Plus, I found the courage to share this newfound resiliency with my co-workers.

I now understand that this isn’t a matter of “if” it happens, but “when.” Mental health struggles are part of this profession, and it’s important to be prepared. I am grateful for the support from my family and the encouragement I received from Legacy Place Society.

Through this experience, I have become a stronger person, not only for myself but for those around me. I am thankful for the opportunity to heal and grow, and I encourage others in similar situations to reach out for the support they need.

My name is Matthew Barber. I’m 28 years old, a husband, and a father of two. I was also known as Master Corporal Barber.

Deployment and Struggles with PTSD

In 2010, I deployed to Afghanistan with the Canadian Forces Battle Group. For five years, I struggled with the aftermath of my deployment, making it nearly impossible to live a normal life. To escape, I ran from Hamilton, Ontario, to Forest Grove, British Columbia. Like my three-year-old son hiding from monsters under the blankets, I tried to hide from my problems in a remote part of BC.

The Breaking Point

Eventually, the issues I was running from caught up to me. In November of last year, I reached a breaking point and attempted to take my own life. I couldn’t take it anymore and was diagnosed with PTSD.

Support and Help from Legacy Place

With great support from my wife, I reached out to Veterans Affairs and got set up with Care West OSI Clinic in Calgary. Since I was out of work, I needed a place to stay while undergoing therapy, which was required for a week at a time.

Difficult Beginnings

For the first few weeks, I stayed with family, but it made things worse. Without money and relying on the Royal Canadian Legion for transportation to and from BC, I was in a tough spot.

A Life-Changing Stay at Legacy Place

Then, I was introduced to Legacy Place in Calgary. For just $15 a night, I stayed in a clean, beautiful house with my own room. The young soldier who manages the house was incredibly supportive, making a huge difference in my healing process.

Healing and Hope

This past week, while continuing my therapy, staying at Legacy Place has been the best experience I’ve had in a long time. I finally feel my life starting to improve.

Matthew Barber

Lisa shares her heartfelt experience during her brief stay at Legacy Place Calgary, where she found a safe, welcoming environment while supporting her husband’s therapy journey. From the moment she arrived, the house felt warm and inviting, offering her much-needed comfort during a challenging time. With the incredible support of “Mr. Cameron,” the house manager, Lisa felt at ease and able to relax, something she had not experienced before in an unfamiliar place.

Over the past 7 months, she has witnessed a significant positive change in her husband’s behavior. Legacy Place Calgary, with its supportive atmosphere, played a crucial role in his healing process. Lisa holds the facility in the highest regard, appreciating the compassionate care and positive impact it has had on her family.

Legacy Place Calgary provides a much-needed sanctuary for families of First Responders, offering a secure, nurturing space for healing and growth. Lisa’s story reflects the transformative power of supportive environments for both veterans and their loved ones.

The Question I Always Get After a Shift

As a rural fire department paramedic, I often get asked the same question after finishing a long shift: “Did you have a bad night?” My wife, Michelle, is the one who asks. Most mornings, I respond with, “It was all right.” But some shifts are harder to forget.

A Call That Shook Me

A few months ago, during one particular shift, things took a dramatic turn. Shortly after 3 p.m., my partner and I were dispatched to a call about a child struck by a vehicle. As we headed to the scene, an update came over the radio: “Shots fired, multiple victims.” My anxiety levels shot up as I mentally prepared for what I might encounter. When we arrived, chaos unfolded before us.

The scene was overwhelming. A middle-aged man was receiving CPR from firefighters after suffering a gunshot wound. Nearby, a teenager was also receiving medical attention, and I quickly assessed their condition. Then, a firefighter directed me to the child struck by the car. I uncovered the blanket to reveal the extent of the toddler’s injuries, and I knew there was nothing we could do.

The Increasing Frequency of Violent Calls

This call, which involved violence and tragedy, is just one of many I’ve responded to during my 9 years with the department. A few years ago, calls like this one were rare. Now, they seem to happen more frequently, with stabbings, shootings, and violence appearing at least once or twice a week.

The First Traumatic Call I Remember

The first tragic call I remember was for an infant who wasn’t breathing. I arrived to find a child who appeared to have starved to death, and there was nothing I could do. It was the worst thing I had ever seen, and it’s still a memory I carry with me.

Calls Involving Children Are Especially Hard

Calls involving children are especially difficult for me since becoming a father. A few years ago, I responded to three fatal shootings in one shift. These experiences leave their mark, and some calls are too painful to relive. Even nonviolent calls can pose risks. Once, a rural firefighter was shot while transferring a patient into an ambulance, a reminder that danger is always present.

Why I Love What I Do

Despite the trauma, I love what I do. I joined the rural fire department after high school, following in my father’s footsteps, and later became a paramedic. Over the years, I’ve witnessed the transformation of our town into a small city, and my commitment to helping people remains unwavering.

How I Cope with the Stress of the Job

On the scene, my training takes over. I focus on the task at hand, caring for the victims and completing necessary procedures. There’s no time to form emotional attachments. When the shift ends, I try to leave the emotions behind, although it’s not always easy. My department prioritizes mental health, offering debriefings and support after critical incidents to help emergency workers cope with stress.

The Importance of Debriefing and Peer Support

For example, after a traumatic call involving a child’s death, we hold diffusing sessions where we can share what we saw and how we feel. These sessions help us process the trauma before it becomes overwhelming. Additionally, a peer support team provides an outlet for those who need someone to listen. While not counselors, they offer a safe space to talk.

Lingering Thoughts After the Scene

The events of that tragic day linger in my mind. The 2-year-old who was hit by a vehicle, the shooter who took the life of a man, and the wounded teenager. The aftermath was chaotic, and even after my report was completed, I continued to care for others at the scene.

Reflecting on the Shift

Later, when the adrenaline wore off and the shift ended, I found myself reflecting on the details of the day. It’s always hardest when the shift is over and I’m heading home. I walk through the door, exhausted, and my family is eager for my attention. But how do I explain the horrors I witnessed? I don’t. I simply tell them I’m fine and go take a nap. It’s not easy, but it’s the reality of my job.

This is a plea for all of us to be more compassionate about a specific issue—suicide. A plea to accept some discomfort on our part to support someone who desperately needs it. You may already feel uncomfortable just reading these words, even though you don’t know where this is going.

If you’re compassionate, you’ll continue reading anyway. If you aim to become a better person each day, you’ll read all of this and give it serious thought. Please note, this is not a lecture, but a classroom-style approach intended to expand understanding. It is not my place to lecture anyone, nor is that my purpose.

The Discomfort of Facing Emotional Pain

When faced with something emotionally upsetting, we often shy away from it. That’s a natural, instinctive reaction. Over time, we learn to overcome this impulse, developing courage, judgment, and compassion. Compassion takes courage.

John Wayne once said, “Courage isn’t not being afraid. It’s being scared to death and saddling up anyway.” This applies to emotional situations just as much as it applies to physical danger. Now, let’s dive into a topic that makes many of us uncomfortable: death—specifically suicide.

Friend Addressing the Topic of Suicide

Even though death is a normal part of life, we’re often uneasy talking about it—unless it’s in a movie or a book. While we handle the death of someone we know with relative ease, suicide presents a unique challenge.

When we learn that someone has died, we ask if it was an accident, cancer, or another cause. We talk about the person and their passing. But when it comes to suicide, the conversation often stops abruptly. We revert to hushed tones and avoid the topic altogether.

What do we do for the grieving relatives of someone who died by suicide? Some attend the funeral and offer support for a few weeks. Others simply send condolences and then move on. Sadly, many avoid the situation entirely. It’s too uncomfortable for them.

The Parent’s Perspective

The most tragic situation is that of the parent who loses a child. Losing a child, no matter their age, is an incomparable pain. Picking out a casket for your son or daughter is unimaginable. And ordering the grave marker is just as difficult.

Let’s look at this through a “Us vs. Them” lens to better understand compassion.

Us vs. Them: The Discomfort We Avoid

US: We feel upset, wondering what to say, what to avoid, and how to help. We wonder why the child took their life, and some might even think, “That could never happen to my child.” We push these uncomfortable thoughts aside as we return to our daily lives.

THEM: The parent’s thoughts are far more profound and painful. They are asking, “Why didn’t I see the pain?” or “What did I miss in raising my child?” Feelings of failure, guilt, and a massive, aching hole in their hearts take over. The weight of the loss is constant, and often, people simply don’t know how to be there for them.

How We Can Offer Compassion

There is no perfect way to handle grief, especially after suicide. But here are some ways to reach out and provide support:

1. Be There: You can’t take away their pain, but you can listen. Acknowledge that you can’t imagine what they are going through, but you care.
2. Avoid Offering Unsolicited Advice: Don’t try to “fix” their grief. Don’t tell them to forgive themselves or try to explain their child’s actions.
3. Don’t Make Assumptions: Never say, “I understand,” unless you’ve been through the same experience. Losing a child is something you can’t truly comprehend unless you’ve experienced it yourself.
4. Be Silent When Needed: Sometimes the best thing you can do is sit quietly and be present. Don’t rush to fill the silence.

Support Over Time

Grief doesn’t have a set timeline. It’s important to check in with the grieving person regularly—especially in the first year. Special days like birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays will be incredibly painful, so reaching out on those days can be meaningful.

If you are geographically distant, sending texts or making phone calls is a powerful way to stay connected. If they’re not ready for support, respect their wishes. Sometimes the best thing you can do is wait.

Being a True Friend

Reaching out to someone grieving the loss of a child requires courage. It’s not always easy, but it’s a simple act of caring. Would you put in the emotional work for a friend in their darkest time, just as you would for physical labor after an accident?

Ultimately, the question is: Will you decide to risk being more compassionate? Will you be a friend, or will you simply be an acquaintance?

The Truth Behind the Badge….

• I would stop the years of tragedy from replaying in my head, while trying to sleep at night.
• I would no longer see the face of the young child I couldn’t save from drowning.
• I would no longer see the lifeless bodies lying on the highway at the countless fatality car accidents I’ve worked.
• I would no longer see that person take their last breath who was caught in gang crossfire.
• I would forget the look on a parent’s face, when I told them their child was dead and never coming home.
• I would no longer see the lifeless bodies of every homicide victim I’ve seen over the years.
• I would not remember what a decomposed body looks like, even worse, what one smells like.
• I would forget the look of fear and pain on every domestic violence victim’s face, who endured abuse from someone they loved.
• I would erase the images of child abuse, sex trafficking, and child porn, I was forced to see throughout my career.

If I could forget what my eyes have seen

• my heart would be softer, my trust more attainable, and my guard not always up.
• I’d be less skeptical, less cynical, and remember that kindness in humanity still exists.
• I would no longer break down and cry unexpectedly, like a dam of emotion breaking for reasons unknown.
• I would sleep without issues, cold sweats, and repetitive dreams of being killed, would be a thing of the past.
• I would not have to sit with my back against the wall when out in public, forever on alert, just in case evil were to show up.
• I’d be forever free from the truth that evil is real, it’s out there, I know, because I’ve looked into its eyes.

If I could forget what my eyes have seen, I would not be a police officer.

These are the burdens we carry, the price we pay, to keep you safe.

This is the truth behind our badge.

For those who don’t know me, let me introduce myself. My name is Russ Lee, and I had the honor of serving this great country in the Canadian Army. In 2002, I was deployed to Kandahar, where I spent six months, from February to August. Upon returning home, I began to struggle with depression, later diagnosed as Operational Stress Injury (OSI) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). After fighting hard, I emerged victorious.

In 2008, I joined the Alberta Sheriff’s and transitioned into the Sheriff Highway Patrol in 2009. Over my 15 years of service, I’ve had the privilege of working alongside some of the best individuals in this country – from military personnel to police officers, firefighters, EMTs, and emergency medical responders.

Every day, military personnel, first responders, and their families face traumatic and horrific situations that leave lasting emotional scars. That’s why I support Legacy Place Society, an organization dedicated to helping these heroes and their families during their times of need.

Russ Lee’s Fundraising Effort for Legacy Place Society

I’m reaching out to raise awareness and funds for Legacy Place Society. From noon on February 22nd to noon on March 1st, I’ll be camping out at the Leduc #1 Fire Hall to raise awareness and show support for the brave men and women of the military and first responder communities.

How You Can Help: Donate to Legacy Place Society

I’m asking for your support for Legacy Place Society, and if you’re able, please consider making a donation. Your contributions will directly benefit those who need it most. To donate, simply use e-transfer to send funds to info@legacyplacesociety.com, and include your full name and mailing address in the donation memo to receive a charitable tax receipt.

If prompted for a banking security question, use the question: “What is the name of Russ’s Operation?” and answer with: operationlegacy (all lowercase, one word).

Why This Matters: Raising Awareness for PTSD and OSI

As I mentioned, the main reason I’m doing this is to raise awareness for Legacy Place Society and to shed light on the challenges faced by those suffering from PTSD and Operational Stress Injury (OSI). I want to highlight the importance of supporting our first responders and military personnel.

Thank You for Your Support Russ Lee

Your support means the world to me and to those who benefit from Legacy Place Society. Thank you for your generosity, and God bless you all.

Links to Learn More:

• Link to Operation Legacy Facebook
• Global News Edmonton: Operation Legacy
• Globe and Mail: Russ Lee Article
• Alberta CTV News: Russ Lee Video

Your contributions help make a lasting difference!