Folds of Honor

The Foundation started by Lt. Col. Dan Rooney honors those willing to pay the ultimate price by providing scholarships to their families, including the O’Hares

[Opposite] Lt. Cmdr. Raymond O’Hare, second from left; [above] with Colleen and their young daughters

HER BROTHER’S FRIENDS INTRODUCED THEMSELVES one by one, each young man, right down the row seated for Sunday brunch. But when it came to the last, an incoming freshman who, like the others, was on the Harvard football team, Colleen suddenly took notice.

“Ray,” she says. “At the end was Ray. His voice… I couldn’t have defi ned why, but his voice sounded so unique, resonant.”

Ray was a freshman, Colleen was a sophomore, and the two began dating. In love essentially since the moment they met, they were married in 1992, three years after Ray graduated college and two years after he joined the Navy as an aspiring astronaut. Children came next—Katie, Elizabeth and Tommy—and life for Colleen and her Naval Flight Offi cer husband was going beautifully. Then, one day in the summer of 2000, Colleen’s world fell apart. Lt. Cmdr O’Hare’s T-38A Talon training jet crashed while on a routine instrument approach at the U.S. Naval Test Pilot School in Maryland, and just like that Ray was gone.

“He was larger than life, a huge personality,” she recalls. “The smartest person I had met and that I probably ever will meet. He was always happy, always wanting to play, super energetic, and he was my rock.”

As it happened, Ray’s parents were on their way into town from Chicago at the time, visiting for Ray’s upcoming 34th birthday. When they arrived it fell to Colleen, still in shock, to tell them that their son had died. And there were the children, of course. At the time, Katie, Elizabeth and Tommy were aged 4 years, 3 years and 9 months, respectively.

“One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was tell them their dad died,” Colleen says. “Tommy was too young, but the girls, they understood. Grief is so powerful and it would overwhelm me at times. The three little kids, because they lost their dad, they were stuck like glue to me. I do recall sinking to the ground and crying. I had tried going into my closet and wailing but my kids would be at the door; they’d bring tissues and be with me, that was what it was. But it allowed them to learn that it’s OK to grieve, it’s OK to be sad. It’s a real, authentic emotion.”

For all of the emotions that came with Ray’s death, there were practical challenges, too. A photographer and graphic designer, Colleen had worked before Ray died, but only part time and hardly enough to support a family’s needs. The community at the Test Pilot School was great, she said: “Navy folks really trying to lift me up. Not saying, ‘Hey, if you need anything let me know’—they just showed up. Showed up and mowed the lawn, showed up and said, ‘I’ll take the kids for a couple hours’; that support network was great.” And family helped. “The uncles have done a good job fi lling in, father-daughter dances and that kind of thing… but the children always had to borrow dads and father fi gures; I always felt terrible about that.”

With the children fully dependent on her, Colleen said she refocused and, in 2003, hit a turning point of sorts. While raising her children, she earned her MBA at night and started her own business. Still, there were concerns.

“It’s one of the last things you have to do raising children,” Colleen explains, “families are really worried about a college education. When they’re that young you want to start saving, but you’re just surviving every day. Still, pretty much what I had decided with my kids, what I told them, was to focus on doing well in school and I would work on getting the funding, navigating all of the paperwork.”

In the midst of searching for scholarships, Colleen found Folds of Honor, and another chapter of her life began.

Named for the 13 folds it takes to fold the American fl ag to its triangle shape, the Foundation was created in 2007 by Lt. Col. Dan Rooney, a decorated military aviator who served three combat tours in Iraq. Returning home from his second tour, he witnessed an irreverence toward U.S. service men and women that he found unacceptable, and he decided that he wanted to dedicate his time to honoring those willing to pay the ultimate price. It wasn’t

long before he identifi ed a need for educational support. Many veterans’ dependents do not qualify for federal scholarship assistance and, despite some options from the federal government, many could miss out on the dream for which their loved ones had fought and perhaps died. Folds of Honor addresses this need for the dependents of soldiers killed or disabled in military operations, giving back by providing educational scholarships to their children. To date the Foundation has handed out roughly 35,000 scholarships worth about $160 million, helping the O’Hares and a wide range of other families, 41 percent of which are minorities.

“It almost seemed too good to be true,” says Colleen. “A wonderful reality and resource—funding that we didn’t have to pay back.”

And it wasn’t just the scholarships, she says, explaining that the Folds of Honor community was there for her in other ways, too.

“It’s been great just knowing there’s an extended family that cares about us, off ering mentorship and fi nancial support and emotional support for me sometimes, when there have been some tough things going on in my life. They know, they’re on the journey with us, they appreciate how hard it can be.”

All of the O’Hare children are now grown, and Folds of Honor has been an important part of their lives, helping with their education but also helping with their outlook and strength.

“I learned along the way in grief therapy that the kids throughout their lives, at diff erent stages, will re-grieve the loss,” Colleen says. “There have been situations, Katie’s high school graduation for example, where she knows her dad is not there but still there’s that anticipation, that almost looking around. ‘This is a big deal for me; where are you?’ My Elizabeth may be getting engaged soon… You can’t think about those things.

“To see them all in their 20s now, I’m so proud of them. They had to learn a lot of things on their own compared to their peers, but these challenges, they help us evolve into who we’re supposed to be.”

Today both Colleen and her daughter Elizabeth speak on behalf of Folds of Honor, telling their diffi cult story at events so that people can understand how important the foundation is and off er their support as well.

“I bring the folded fl ag that was given to me, the one that was over Ray’s casket before he was buried at Arlington,” Colleen explains. “As Lt. Col. Dan Rooney says, it only weights 2.3lbs, but for families like mine it’s an unfathomable weight. There were 1,500 unfunded scholarships last year—with the pandemic, events were limited and we weren’t able to raise as much as we needed, and the need continues.”

Putting that need into sharp focus, Elizabeth’s boyfriend is a U.S. Marine who was on deployment in Kabul on August 26th of this year, the day a suicide bomber killed a number of Marines.

“As it was unfolding that 10 Marines had been killed, and she had a vague idea that he was there, she was obviously very, very upset and worried, and because she’s had the experience with her dad, she knows that’s a real possibility. It was a very long night for her, but at 2a.m. she got a text from him that he was OK. He was 100 meters from the suicide bomber. Her story luckily ended well, but a month ago a baby was born to one of the 13 servicemembers who did die in that attack,” Colleen says. “She is a child who is going to be in need of a Folds of Honor scholarship someday.”

To support Folds of Honor Foundation, to learn how you can host a golf tournament, host a golf marathon or join the Folds’ Squadron, visit foldsofhonor.org today.

Elizabeth, Tommy and Katie O’Hare