10/02/2026
We are grateful to Russ for sharing his story. To understand the incredible work of the Invisible Wounds Project we choose to support through our event each year, please read and be inspired! 💙
A Story of Hope: My Story by Russ Hanes, Founder of Invisible Wounds Project
When I was 7 years old, our home was burglarized. I watched the police officer work the scene, and from that day on, I knew I wanted to be a cop. What I didn't know was how long and hard the road there would be, or what it would eventually cost me.
By high school, I'd lost friends to su***de. I was struggling with suicidal ideation myself, drinking too much, and got expelled for fighting, among other things. Soon after, at 18, I was arrested for underage drinking and driving. One of the officers who booked me that night, Sgt. Jerry Johnson, didn't give up on me. He mentored me, took me on ride-alongs, and believed I could turn my life around. Eleven months later, with his recommendation, I became a Reserve Officer.
That began nearly 20 years in public safety — reserve officer, community service officer, corrections officer, police officer, and finally a 10 1/2-year career as a 911 dispatcher, where I answered tens of thousands of calls. Some of those calls never left me. I helped catch a double-homicide suspect who took his own life as officers closed in. I answered a call about a baby not breathing on my first shift back from paternity leave. I carry su***de calls I still think about, especially the one I took on Christmas.
I didn't know what PTSD was. I just knew I couldn't sleep, I drank too much, I was full of rage I couldn't explain, and I felt like I was failing everyone I loved. In late 2015, I found myself contemplating su***de regularly. So in 2016, I did something that looked reckless to everyone who knew me: I walked away from the career I'd wanted since I was 7 years old, took a massive pay cut, and started over — because I needed to stay alive.
Out of that darkness came clarity. I'd already been running a car cruise since 2009 to honor my dad, a Vietnam veteran, and raise money for vets. I realized the same invisible wounds I carried were being carried by veterans, police officers, firefighters, EMS, corrections officers, dispatchers, and frontline medical staff — and too many of them were being told "no" or made to feel like they weren't worth the help. That's where Invisible Wounds Project was born.
It hasn't been a straight line. We've grown from a volunteer-run car show into an organization serving hundreds of first responders and veterans and their families — through real setbacks, financial crises, and heartbreak, including losing people we loved and served to the very thing we exist to fight. Every one of those losses has pushed us to build something stronger, more sustainable, and more real.
I share this not because it's comfortable, but because Su***de Awareness Month isn't just about awareness — it's about honesty. If you are struggling, if you feel like the weight is too much, please hear me: I have been exactly where you are, and there is a way through. You are not weak. You are not alone. And your story isn't over.
If you or someone you love is struggling, reach out. To IWP, to the 988 Su***de & Crisis Lifeline, to anyone. Just reach out.
***deAwarenessMonth
