My name is Hunter Davis. I came to Ketchikan by way of the United States Army, and I stayed because of the people.
I believe my purpose in life is simple. It is to say hello. To walk up to someone who looks lost, ask if they need help, and make them feel welcome. In a town like Ketchikan, that matters. Community is built through small moments repeated over time.
I have been a member of the American Legion for about twenty years. For me, the Legion is not just a veterans organization. It is a place where service continues long after the uniform comes off. We support students through scholarships, help families with travel costs, honor veterans, and provide a gathering place for the community. That work did not stop when our building burned down.
When the Legion building was destroyed by fire, the loss was overwhelming. First there was shock, then anger, and eventually acceptance. The building was gone, but the post was still there. What carried us forward was the response from the community. People donated money, time, and encouragement. That outpouring reminded me why this town is worth fighting for.
I live with Parkinson’s, and some days it slows me down. Other days it teaches me how to ask for help and keep going anyway. Service has always been how I deal with hardship. I believe in post-traumatic growth. You do not erase what happened. You build something meaningful on top of it.
The problem I am trying to solve is disengagement. Too many people think support only means writing a check. Real change happens when people show up, volunteer, and take responsibility for their community. Somebody has to do the work, so you might as well roll your sleeves up and do it.
What I get out of this is purpose. Being involved reminds me that institutions survive because people care enough to keep them alive. We will rebuild. And until then, we keep serving.
I believe my purpose in life is simple. It is to say hello. To walk up to someone who looks lost, ask if they need help, and make them feel welcome. In a town like Ketchikan, that matters. Community is built through small moments repeated over time.
I have been a member of the American Legion for about twenty years. For me, the Legion is not just a veterans organization. It is a place where service continues long after the uniform comes off. We support students through scholarships, help families with travel costs, honor veterans, and provide a gathering place for the community. That work did not stop when our building burned down.
When the Legion building was destroyed by fire, the loss was overwhelming. First there was shock, then anger, and eventually acceptance. The building was gone, but the post was still there. What carried us forward was the response from the community. People donated money, time, and encouragement. That outpouring reminded me why this town is worth fighting for.
I live with Parkinson’s, and some days it slows me down. Other days it teaches me how to ask for help and keep going anyway. Service has always been how I deal with hardship. I believe in post-traumatic growth. You do not erase what happened. You build something meaningful on top of it.
The problem I am trying to solve is disengagement. Too many people think support only means writing a check. Real change happens when people show up, volunteer, and take responsibility for their community. Somebody has to do the work, so you might as well roll your sleeves up and do it.
What I get out of this is purpose. Being involved reminds me that institutions survive because people care enough to keep them alive. We will rebuild. And until then, we keep serving.