Every mission has a 'why' with passion

I’m from a small town in East Texas. I never expected to find myself designing tools for first responders. But like many of you, COVID changed everything.

After over 30 years in corporate IT, I had a secure career and a comfortable income. But during the pandemic, like many others, I was forced to reevaluate. I was a single mom raising four teenagers and realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life sitting in meetings that didn’t matter. I wanted to live with intent and contribute to something bigger than myself.

So I walked away from corporate America and chose to help rural schools—schools just like the one I grew up in—secure state and federal funds to strengthen safety and security. These districts often don’t have dedicated emergency managers or million-dollar security budgets. They have principals doing triple duty, SROs covering too many campuses, and teachers wearing multiple hats.

While doing that work, I attended a regional campus safety summit in Huntsville that included an overview of the Robb Elementary tragedy in Uvalde, along with a debrief of ALERRT training and how it ties into establishing Incident Command Structure (ICS).

That day changed me.

Like many of you, I walked away with a deepened respect for law enforcement—especially those who run toward the gunfire when everyone else runs away. There are few people in this world truly called to “stop the killing and stop the dying.” That calling is not for the faint of heart, and it deserves honor.

But I also saw firsthand the chaos that erupts when command presence isn’t clear. Because when the call goes out that a school is under threat—everyone comes. And I mean everyone.

It’s not just your local patrol unit rolling in. You’ll see State Troopers flying down the highway, game wardens pulling up in camo with long guns, Border Patrol bouncing onto the scene, constables you didn’t know still existed, neighboring agencies you’ve never met, and off-duty officers showing up in gym shorts with no radios. And sometimes, even the FBI shows up—like the varsity team just got called in.

Every single one of them means well. Every one of them is there because they care. And many of them are running toward the sound of gunfire without hesitation.

But when there's no clear command post, no visible rally point, all that horsepower can grind into gridlock. Radios get jammed. Everyone’s on a different channel. Time is lost. Roles get blurred. And in that delay, chaos replaces coordination.

That’s why I created the Command GoBag.

It’s a simple, patent-pending, low-tech solution that allows one person—just one—to establish a highly visible Unified Command Post within seconds. The entire kit fits in a 20-inch bag, but deploys a 17-foot flag that’s visible from down the block. It includes a brightly labeled vest that removes all doubt about who's in charge, and it can be on scene and operational before the second wave of responders even arrives.

It started as a solution for rural schools, but it quickly proved itself useful across other scenes—urban schools, disasters, parades, reunification drills, sporting events, and more.

Because no matter the size of your community, you can’t manage what you can’t find. Command must be seen. The Command GoBag scales with the incident, and additional kits—like Staging, Rehab, Triage, EMS Ops, Transport, and Lost Child—support coordination across multiple zones.

But let’s go deeper. After Command, what’s next?

Staging.

I’ll be honest—staging is where most scenes fall apart.
Why? Because if you don’t designate it early, everyone just piles up at the front door. You get 20 officers within 30 feet of each other, and no one watching the rear.

So with a Staging GoBag, you immediately mark a safe, visible zone where units report in, get task assignments, and get organized. That flag becomes a magnetic point for:

• Perimeter security assignments: Who’s covering the south exit? The playground?
• Rescue Task Force escorts: Medics won’t move without protection. Pair them up, move them in.
• Reunification patrols: Who’s sweeping hallways for wandering students? Who’s intercepting frantic parents on foot?
• Traffic control: Can EMS even get through the crowd? Is someone working the intersections?
• Parent redirection: Can we move them to a reunification site before they get to the danger zone?
   

Let me paint the picture. We had a training last fall—small county, just outside of Raleigh. Threat at a high school. Nine minutes in, six agencies showed up. Everyone had radios, but no one had a common plan.

First words out of everyone’s mouth:
“Where’s command? Where’s staging?”

If you can’t answer those two questions in real time, the incident runs you.

But if you can drop that flag, flash that vest, and post a clipboard—or better, an iPad—you take back control. That’s leadership. That’s Sheriff-level response.

This system doesn’t replace training—it activates it. It lets you operate on instinct when seconds count. And it gives every responder—sworn or civilian—a visual rally point, a clear chain of command, and a sense that someone’s running the show.

I didn’t invent this for a product catalog—I built it because I saw a gap. Because I saw parents sprinting across open campuses, unsure where to go. Because I’ve heard the crackling of 15 agencies trying to talk over each other. And because I know clarity saves lives.

I created the Command GoBag for my kids, your kids, and for the brave men and women—like many of you—who risk everything during our darkest hours. I made it so that when the mayhem arrives, there’s one clear post that says, ‘this is where leadership is.’

Thank you for what you do, and thank you for letting me serve alongside you in this mission.