Dave Westlake, NMLS# 2619293

09/09/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

On September 11, 2001, Hanna Born was just three years old.

She and her infant sister, Heather, were inside the Pentagon Child Development Center when American Airlines Flight 77 struck the Pentagon.

As smoke filled the sky, service members rushed to evacuate the children—some carrying cribs filled with infants nearly half a mile to safety.

Hanna and Heather were eventually reunited with their family. 2,977 other people never came home.

The experience stayed with Hanna. For years, fire alarms frightened her and images of 9/11 triggered memories of that morning.

But as she grew older, Hanna made a decision: turn those memories into motivation rather than fear.

She followed her parents into military service, graduated from the U.S. Air Force Academy and today is an Air Force Captain and helicopter instructor pilot, training the next generation of aviators.

Then Hanna noticed something troubling—many of the young Airmen she teaches weren’t even alive on September 11, 2001.

So on September 11, 2025, she started running.

Her goal:

2,977 miles.
2,977 names.
2,977 lives.

For every mile, Hanna honors one person killed on 9/11—sharing that person’s name and story so a new generation understands that behind that enormous number were individual human beings who were loved and are still missed.

She sometimes carries a Flag of Honor bearing all 2,977 names as she runs. What began as one woman’s tribute has grown into a community of people remembering together.

Hanna survived one of America’s darkest days.

Twenty-five years later, she’s using every step to carry someone else’s memory forward.

Sometimes the best way to honor those who never got another tomorrow is to make something meaningful with ours.

Never forget.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊

09/08/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

For Marine Sergeant Gabe Martinez, September 11, 2001 planted a desire to serve. He eventually became a combat engineer and deployed to Afghanistan with 1st Combat Engineer Battalion.

Just 48 days into that deployment, Gabe was sweeping for buried explosives in Marjah when he stepped on an IED.

The explosion threw him into the air and took both of his legs. When his best friend rushed to help him, he stepped on another IED and also lost both legs. Gabe was evacuated and began the long journey from battlefield to rehabilitation.

He learned to walk on prosthetics. Then he went much further—handcycling marathons, skiing, rock climbing and competing through Team Semper Fi.

Three years later, bombs exploded at the Boston Marathon.

Gabe traveled to Boston with other wounded veterans to visit survivors. Among them was Celeste Corcoran, who had lost both legs and wondered whether she would ever regain her independence.

Then Gabe walked into her hospital room.

He had deliberately worn shorts, allowing his prosthetic legs to be visible.

He told Celeste that he had once felt helpless, too.

But what mattered most wasn’t what Gabe said.

It was that he was standing there.

Celeste later described meeting him as a “little spark.” Suddenly, she could see that independence—and a full life—were still possible.

That’s the beautiful thing about surviving adversity.

Sometimes our scars become more than evidence of what happened to us—they become evidence to someone else that what happened to them doesn’t have to be the end.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊

09/07/2026

Happy Labor Day! Today we celebrate the hard work that helps build strong communities and comfortable homes across the country.

09/04/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

July 19, 2004 changed Army Specialist Andrew Coughlan’s life forever.

During a mortar attack in Iraq, his squad leader and close friend Charles Persing shielded Andrew from the blast.

Andrew survived. Persing did not.

Andrew returned home carrying survivor’s guilt and PTSD. For years, when July 19 arrived, he isolated himself and drank while thinking about the friends he had lost.

Eventually, he found another way.

Andrew began gathering with veterans on his “Alive Day,” remembering not only the terrible moments but the laughter, friendship and brotherhood that came before them.

When the pandemic prevented those gatherings, he started running—one mile for every year since the attack. One run raised $15,000 for wounded veterans.

He became sober and built a career helping other veterans through Wounded Warrior Project.

Then came an extraordinary opportunity to give back.

In 2016, Andrew saw a social-media post from fellow Army veteran Russell Broughton, whose failing kidneys had left him dependent upon dialysis.

Andrew quietly got tested.

He was a match.

He donated one of his kidneys to Russell. The transplant succeeded.

Fourteen years after Andrew’s life was saved by another soldier, Wounded Warrior Project presented him its Courage Award for service, integrity and loyalty.

There’s something beautifully circular about Andrew’s story.

One soldier once sacrificed himself so Andrew could have more tomorrows.

Andrew decided to spend those tomorrows giving back.

Sometimes the greatest way to honor the life we’ve been given is to help someone else keep theirs.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊

09/04/2026

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09/03/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

Army Captain Tony J. Smith knew how to lead.

A graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point, he spent years leading soldiers.

Then injuries and mental-health challenges put him in a fight for which leadership training hadn’t necessarily prepared him.

Smith was diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety and depression.

And despite being surrounded by people, he remembers feeling completely alone.

Eventually, Smith realized he couldn’t simply pretend everything was okay.

He had to ask for help.

Through the Soldier Recovery Unit at Fort Hood, Smith found providers, coaches and fellow soldiers who helped him begin rebuilding—not just physically, but emotionally.

Adaptive sports became part of that process.

After tearing both pectoral muscles and enduring multiple surgeries, simply returning to powerlifting represented something larger than lifting weight.

It meant getting his confidence back.

Cycling, rowing, track and field followed.

In 2026, Smith represented Team Army at the Department of Defense Warrior Games in San Antonio.

But his next goal may say even more about his recovery.

Smith plans to study kinesiology and pursue work in physical, recreational or mental-health therapy—helping other people find their way forward.

His experience changed his understanding of strength.

“Vulnerability will get you through anything in life,” Smith said.

That’s worth remembering.

We spend so much of our lives believing strength means carrying everything ourselves.

Sometimes it does.

But sometimes the bravest thing a strong person can say is:

“I need help.”

And sometimes those words aren’t surrender.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊

09/02/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

On November 29, 2005, Army Captain Ryan Kules was returning from an early-morning mission near Taji, Iraq, when an IED buried beneath the road exploded under his vehicle.

Kules survived.

Sergeants Jerry Mills and Donald Hasse, the two soldiers with him, did not.

Ryan lost his right arm and left leg and spent two weeks in a coma at Walter Reed.

During his recovery, Vietnam veteran and fellow amputee Jim Mayer began visiting Ryan. Mayer brought milkshakes—and introduced him to an idea that would change how Ryan viewed November 29.

He called the anniversary of surviving his injuries his “Alive Day.”

For Ryan, the date would always contain grief. But it could also represent the extraordinary gift of the life that remained.

Ryan eventually married, became a father of three and joined Wounded Warrior Project. Today he serves as national director of Project Odyssey, helping veterans address combat stress and mental-health challenges. His advocacy has also focused on breaking the stigma surrounding veterans seeking help.

And twenty years after the explosion, Ryan climbed onto an indoor rowing machine.

He completed 50 kilometers and established three adaptive indoor-rowing Guinness World Records.

Think about that.

The anniversary of a day that could have represented everything Ryan lost became a day demonstrating everything still possible.

We cannot always choose what happens to us.

But sometimes we can choose what the days afterward will mean.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊

09/02/2026

🏔️ Why limit yourself to one season?

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09/01/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

Army Major Anthony Smith was hit directly by a rocket-propelled gr***de. It passed through his hip and abdomen before exploding, throwing him into a brick wall. Shrapnel took his arm, and enemy fire struck him several more times.

Medics performed a tracheotomy but could find no signs of life.

Anthony Smith was pronounced dead and placed in a body bag.

Then a nurse opened the bag to put his dog tags inside.

She noticed bubbles forming in the blood around his tracheotomy.

Anthony was breathing.

Saving him was only the beginning. During surgery, Smith received the wrong blood and remained in shock for 62 days. When he finally awakened at Brooke Army Medical Center, he suffered severe amnesia. His recovery would ultimately involve more than 100 surgeries.

But Smith refused to let survival be the end of his story.

He learned to write with his left hand. He learned to throw a ball to his children differently. He pursued skiing, golf, triathlons and martial arts—eventually winning first place in the disabled division at the Diamond Nationals karate championships.

Then he began volunteering at the Memphis VA, helping other veterans through their own recoveries.

Anthony once saw his injuries as everything he could no longer do.

Eventually, he discovered something else:

They gave him an opportunity to help others.

Sometimes life gives us the smallest possible sign that our story isn’t finished.

Anthony Smith’s was a single breath inside a body bag.

And he made that breath count.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊

08/31/2026

Today's Perspective for Happiness:

**I Wish I Had Made One More Phone Call**

There’s a reason I share “Today’s Perspective for Happiness“ every day that I haven’t shared before.

One of my West Point roommates died by su***de in 2019. I didn’t learn about it until December 2023.

We were roommates during Beast Barracks and our first semester as Plebes. I’ll never forget our first morning—5 AM wake up…“Welcome to the Jungle” was blasting over the PA while our squad leader pounded on our door like he was trying to knock it down. It was chaos.

We both sprang straight up, looked at each other, and without saying a word communicated exactly the same thought:

What in the hell did we get ourselves into?

We went through a lot together.

Before our Yearling year, he decided to leave West Point. By coincidence, I was the duty driver assigned to take him to out-processing on the day he left.

We had started our West Point journey together, and we were together on his last day there, too.

We hugged. We cried. I watched my best friend leave.

Life moved on. We lost touch.

Then, in December 2023, I learned he had taken his life four years earlier.

I’ve carried a question ever since:

What if I had called one more time? What if I had reminded him of that manic first morning of plebe summer? What if I could have made him laugh—or just smile?

Would it have changed anything?

I’ll never know.

But I also know what it feels like to lose hope. I’ve had times when life became very dark. Somehow, each time, I found a spark of light—something that reminded me there was still hope…something that made me smile.

I was reminded that there is **always** light.

That realization became “Today’s Perspective for Happiness.”

Every day since learning about my friend, I’ve tried to put something positive into the world—stories of real people who inspire, or those who’ve faced terrible injuries, loss, illness, heartbreak or seemingly impossible circumstances…and kept going.

My hope is simple: maybe someone having an awful day reads one of these stories and smiles. Or maybe you smile—and someone you encounter desperately needs to see another human expressing happiness.

We rarely know what others are carrying. A smile cannot cure depression or prevent su***de. But human connection matters. A laugh matters. A phone call matters. Sometimes interrupting the darkness matters.

So please help me.

Smile at people. Check on your friends. Call someone you haven’t spoken to lately. Tell people they matter. Make somebody laugh.

And if you’re fighting that battle right now:

There is always light.

I don’t have all the answers, but I promise I’ll listen. If you need someone to talk to, call or text me: 920-253-9525.

And if any of these stories create a smile that gives someone one more reason to choose tomorrow, every one of them has been worth it.

Please choose tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow is the day you see the light again.

Please smile today. The world needs it. 😊