With Winter Storms Fern and Gianna, Grounded Boots Relief operated with a single, consistent mission: getting healthcare workers to and from the hospitals and clinics where they were needed. Across both storms, we completed nearly sixty trips. Each one allowed a nurse, doctor, or technician to do what they do best: keep lives going.

While roads iced over, our community saw a rise in winter storm related injuries and emergencies. Broken bones. Carbon monoxide exposure. Cold weather complications. Behind every one of those patients was a healthcare worker who still had to report for duty. Many of them would not have been able to do so without Grounded Boots Relief stepping in.

It is not our habit to toot our own horn, but clarity matters. This work made a difference. Volunteers showed up in force. Some drove. Others handled dispatch. Together, they formed a coordinated operation that ran with only minor hiccups and delivered consistently under pressure. With each response, we learn, refine, and improve. The goal is not perfection overnight, but relentless progress toward it.

The broader community amplified that effort. Word spread quickly, and once hospital administrators became aware of what was happening, they shared our information internally to ensure staff could get where they needed to be. That support helped keep healthcare operations moving when conditions were working against them.

We are proud of the role we played during these storms, and we are committed to doing even better in the future. None of this happens without volunteers, financial support, and a great deal of flexibility. When those elements come together, real gaps get filled and essential systems keep running.

As we have mentioned from time to time, not all of the work happens in the field. A surprising amount of it happens quietly, behind the scenes, often out of sight. Many people assume that if they do not own the right vehicle or lack a specific field skill, they are somehow disqualified from volunteering. That assumption could not be more wrong.

Grounded Boots Relief runs on a wide spectrum of talent. Yes, we have boots on the ground and long term recovery crews, but we also rely on people who never touch a chainsaw or a steering wheel. The graphics in this newsletter do not design themselves. Marketing does not appear by magic. Grants are not written by accident. Scheduling, volunteer coordination, social media, logistics, cooking, and communications all require thoughtful, capable people. Even something as simple as feeding volunteers matters. Just because someone can drive does not mean the meals appear on their own. Someone makes that happen.

There are more ways to serve here than we could ever list. If you have a skillset you think could support Grounded Boots Relief, we want to hear from you. Even if a role has not been explicitly advertised, that does not mean it is not needed or deeply appreciated. This organization grows by matching willing people with meaningful work.

That said, a few roles are especially top of mind right now:

Grounded Boots Relief is built by people showing up in the ways they can. If that sounds like you, there is a place for you here.

  During severe winter weather, days with preceding snow had more than 13 times the odds of becoming “high-fall” injury days than control days without snow.  
Source: nih.gov

  

Days off are important. During the last two responses, Fern and Gianna arrived so close together that the day I had planned to take between them turned into a scramble to catch up from one response while preparing for the next. I honestly can’t remember the last true day off before that stretch. After Gianna wrapped, I made the personal call to step back briefly and prioritize mental health.

 

I’m incredibly proud of everyone who showed up for both Fern and Gianna. The scope of what we accomplished in such a short window was significant, and I hope those experiences stick with people. We recently held a Debrief Over Drinks with the volunteers who were able to attend. Many couldn’t, and that’s completely understandable, but for those who made it, the time together was valuable.

 

It gave us space to swap stories from the road, talk through what worked and what didn’t, and build real camaraderie. Many of our transports happened solo, often miles apart, sometimes in different counties altogether. It’s easy in those moments to feel isolated, even while being part of a larger effort. Getting everyone in the same room helped bridge that gap.

 

Debrief Over Drinks is something I’d like to make standard after each response. The “drinks” part is flexible and never has to mean alcohol. Going forward, I’d also like to host these in more private, neutral spaces when possible, as there are practical limitations to using my home. What mattered most was the conversation, the connection, and the shared sense that we’re building this together.

 

For the first time in a long while, I feel less alone in this work. That’s because of the people who showed up, stayed engaged, and invested in one another. That’s how organizations become communities.