Get Task & Purpose in your inbox
Wounded Warrior Project Was Once One Of The Fastest-Growing Charities Ever. Not Anymore
In its 15-year history, Wounded Warrior Project has the distinction of being one of the fastest-growing charities in history and one of the most rapidly shrinking.
After reaching a high-water mark of almost $373 million in donations for the 2015 fiscal year, the Jacksonville-based charity saw contributions plunge in 2016 and fall again in the 2017 fiscal year when it received $211 million in donations, equating to a drop of 43 percent over two years, according to an Internal Revenue Service report released this month by the nonprofit.
Like other charities, Wounded Warrior Project's Form 990 reports filed with the IRS are backward-looking because they contain data for the previous fiscal year that ended Sept. 30.
Doug White, a nonprofit expert who is writing a book about Wounded Warrior, said that while other nationally known charities have taken financial hits, the two-year swing for Wounded Warrior is the worst he's seen.
"I don't know of any organization that fell so far, so quickly," White said.
But Wounded Warrior Project says it's experiencing a financial turnaround in the current fiscal year. The organization projects a $25 million increase in donations, enabling more money for services that assist those injured in military service after the terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.
And the organization said that even with the financial upheaval, it found ways to reach more veterans and family members than ever before.
"Our focus is on impact over revenue," Wounded Warrior Project spokesman Rob Louis said.
Louis said that in the 2017 fiscal year, Wounded Warrior worked with 132,000 veterans and family members, an increase of almost 15 percent.
When Wounded Warrior marked 15 years as a charity this month, CEO Mike Linnington, a retired Army lieutenant general, said the mission remains helping veterans with post-traumatic stress, creating connections with other veterans, and making a transition to civilian life after combat.
"More than 44 veterans and family members register with Wounded Warrior Project every day — proof the need is indeed great and growing," Linnington said.
Linnington has said it will take several years to return the organization to where it was before national media reports in early 2016 questioned "lavish spending" by the non-profit.
Wounded Warrior's board pushed back on the accusations and argued the findings were not accurate. But the board also said in March 2016 that it needed new executive leadership to strengthen some policies and procedures and "restore trust in the organization." The board ousted CEO Steven Nardizzi and Chief Operating Officer Al Giordano, two founding members who guided Wounded Warrior in becoming one of the nation's largest, fastest-growing charities.
White, who has criticized the board's reaction to the media reports, said Wounded Warrior Project remains a charity worthy of support.
He said he's not convinced the organization can regain its former growth, however. He said he hasn't seen evidence that Wounded Warrior will ramp up advertising through direct mail and television on a scale that would bring in enough donations to fulfill the organization's ambitious goal of assisting a generation of veterans as they get older.
"That was a big deal to look 30 to 40 to 50 years into the future," he said. "
Founded in 2003, Wounded Warrior began by delivering care packages in hospitals to men and women returning from the battlefield. As donations soared, Wounded Warrior Project was able to put $262 million into programs in the 2015 fiscal year.
In the 2017 fiscal year, Wounded Warrior spent $166 million on programs. Louis said for the current fiscal year, the organization expects to spend more than $200 million.
In addition to those everyday services, the charity created a separate Long Term Support Trust in 2013 to ensure support services would be available for those with severe wounds so they would not be institutionalized after the loss of their caregivers. The trust had about $100 million in it on September 2017, with almost all of the contributions occurring before Wounded Warrior's financial downturn.
Wounded Warrior put almost $55 million into the long-term trust in the 2015 fiscal year, but that fell to about $311,000 in 2016 when the organization coped with falling donations.
Louis said the trust stopped enrolling new members and has enough money to carry out the long-term care for those are are covered by the trust.
He said overall, Wounded Warrior Project is in strong shape. For the six months that ended March 31 compared to the same six-month period the prior year, donations were up by 11 percent and the organization expects that will continue for the rest of the fiscal year, which ends Sept. 30.
"We continue to remain in a strong financial position to ensure that we will be able to serve wounded warriors for a long, long time," he said.
©2018 The Florida Times-Union (Jacksonville, Fla.). Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
PORTLAND — They are "the honored dead" for this special day each year, on Memorial Day.
But for the rest of the year, America's war dead of the 20th century can be far removed from the nation's awareness.
The final resting places of some 124,000-plus U.S. servicemen are at far-away hallowed grounds not always known to their countrymen.
They are America's overseas military cemeteries.
NEWPORT — The explosion and sinking of the ship in 1943 claimed at least 1,138 lives, and while the sea swallowed the bones there were people, too, who also worked to shroud the bodies.
The sinking of the H.M.T. Rohna was the greatest loss of life at sea by enemy action in the history of U.S. war, but the British Admiralty demanded silence from the survivors and the tragedy was immediately classified by the U.S. War Department.
Michael Walsh of Newport is working to bring the story of the Rohna to the surface with a documentary film, which includes interviews with some of the survivors of the attack. Walsh has interviewed about 45 men who were aboard the ship when it was hit.
Editor's note: this story originally appeared in 2018
How you die matters. Ten years ago, on Memorial Day, I was in Fallujah, serving a year-long tour on the staff and conducting vehicle patrols between Abu Ghraib and Ramadi. That day I attended a memorial service in the field. It was just one of many held that year in Iraq, and one of the countless I witnessed over my 20 years in the U.S. Marine Corps.
Like many military veterans, Memorial Day is not abstract to me. It is personal; a moment when we remember our friends. A day, as Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “sacred to memories of love and grief and heroic youth."