Van of Valor

To our Van of Valor family,

We come to you today not just as relayers of Valor, but as two people forever changed by the stories we are entrusted to tell. 

We sit in the presence of giants, and in the quiet moments after the cameras stop rolling, we are often left in a state of profound awe and humility. We feel it is time to share a piece of that with you.

In our travels, we have learned that heroism is not a single, explosive moment. It is a tapestry woven from threads of sacrifice, resilience, and an almost unimaginable love for the person next to you.

We heard it in the calm, methodical voice of SFC Jeff Dawson, an EOD technician who walked through a field of 40-50 pressure-plate IEDs on a dark night in Afghanistan. 

He spoke of the mentality required to cut a wire, knowing that if you’re wrong, “it’s suddenly not your problem.” 

He recounted the deafening blasts, the shrapnel, the ruptured eardrum, and then — without a second thought — immediately applying tourniquets to a brother who had just lost his legs. 

His Distinguished Service Cross was earned not by a single act of solitary bravery, but by a relentless, ordered reaction to hell itself, all while believing he was “just doing his job.”

We felt it in the radiant spirit of SGT Joel Tavera, who, when a rocket made in Iran shattered his vehicle, was set on fire and lost his sight. 

He speaks of the guilt of the soldier whose duty he took that day, and with a grace that defies understanding.

“It was my day,” he said.

Then, lying on that ground, burning, he told the friend pulling him to safety, “I just want to see my mom and dad. I’m supposed to go home in a few days.” 

From that agony, Tavera has built a life of purpose, declaring, “I live my life because they can’t live theirs.” 

He is a living testament to the fact that the human spirit cannot be destroyed, only refined by fire.

We saw it in the unbreakable bond between Rick Murillo and Chad McKeown, forged in the crucible of Special Forces. 

They can laugh now about piss bottles thrown from vans and questionable bar fights, but that laughter is the bedrock of a bond that was tested under fire. 

Murillo’s story of being shot, calling, “Pimp down!” on the radio, and his medic, Harold (also interviewed by the Van of Valor), racing through gunfire to his side, is more than a war story — it is a perfect, raw example of the dark humor and profound love that holds these teams together. 

It’s the same bond that now drives them to reunite the scattered brothers of Operation Red Wings, understanding that “the best form of therapy is reuniting with those that experienced the same thing.”

Dr. Wallace, as a retired combat correspondent and a Purple Heart recipient, hears in these stories the echoes of his own past — the crackle of the radio, the weight of the body armor, the silence that follows a storm. 

He understands the unspoken language of a thousand-yard stare, and he carries the sacred responsibility of telling these stories with the truth and dignity they deserve.

Lauren, as an anthropologist and historian, listens with a different, but equally reverent, ear. 

She hears the ancient patterns of human struggle and community. 

She sees in these modern warriors the same fundamental forces that have shaped human history: the need to belong to a tribe, the courage to face the unknown, and the enduring power of storytelling to heal and connect us across generations.

This is what the Van of Valor is truly about. 

It is not just about documenting history; it is about tending to the living heart of it. 

It is about creating a space where a Joel can share his light, where a Jeff can unpack the weight of his cross, and where brothers like Rick and Chad can ensure no one is ever forgotten.

We do this for the Soldiers, the Sailors, the Airmen, and the Marines.

We do this for their families, who bear a silent, steadfast burden of their own.

We do this for the friends who welcome them home, sometimes to a different person than the one who left.

And we do this for you, our followers, because we believe that by sharing these stories, we are not just remembering the past — we are strengthening the soul of our nation for the future.

Your support is the fuel for this mission. 

You are the reason we can drive toward the next story, sit at the next kitchen table, and help the next hero feel seen, heard, and valued.

With our deepest gratitude and respect,

Dr. Kevin Wallace and Lauren Wallace

The Van of Valor Team