Help veteran Terry Wayne Boggs regain his independence

My father, Terry Wayne Boggs, is 65 years old and living with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis—ALS. I am watching the strongest man I have ever known slowly lose the ability to move, speak, and care for himself. Each day, another ordinary freedom becomes a struggle: shifting his weight, crossing a room, reaching the people he loves. His mind and spirit remain present, but his body is becoming a silence he cannot command.

For Dad, an electric wheelchair is no longer a convenience or a luxury. It is the difference between being stranded and being able to move with purpose. It can help him reposition safely, reduce pressure and pain, conserve the little strength ALS has left him, and restore a precious measure of independence. It is a way for him to choose where he goes instead of waiting for someone to move him—a small freedom that now means everything.

But this diagnosis is not the whole of Terry's life. Before ALS began taking pieces of his independence, my father spent his life giving strength to others. He served proudly in the United States Army, accepting the duty and sacrifice that came with protecting his country. At home, he was the neighbor who showed up, the husband who stayed, and the steady center of our family. When life became uncertain, Dad was the person who made everyone else feel safe.

His deepest act of devotion came when my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. For years, Dad stood beside her through appointments, treatments, sleepless nights, and the relentless fear of losing the woman he loved. He became caregiver, advocate, comfort, and home. He poured every ounce of his strength into keeping her safe and every dollar he could find into giving her more time.

When my mother died at just 60, she left behind a love that still fills every room—and a grief that changed my father forever. The staggering cost of her care had consumed the savings they built together. Dad would make the same choice again without hesitation, because that is who he is. But he emerged from that loss heartbroken and financially depleted, only to face the collapse of his own health when ALS entered our lives.

Now I see him seated where he once would have stood to help someone else. I see the frustration when his body will not answer him and the exhaustion that follows the smallest movement. Yet I also see the same gentle courage that carried our family for decades. The photographs on this page show the reality of his dependence today, but behind them is the man who served, loved, sacrificed, and never turned away when someone needed him.

The electric wheelchair Dad needs is designed to support his changing body as ALS progresses. It will provide powered positioning, dependable mobility, and safer daily care. It can return choices that this disease is stealing and give him the dignity of meeting the world upright, on his own terms. Without it, his world will keep shrinking. With it, there can still be movement, connection, and moments that belong to him.

Terry spent his life protecting others. It is now our collective turn to protect him. Please help us place freedom back beneath this American hero. Every donation—large or small—is more than money toward a chair; it is an act of gratitude, justice, and honor. It is a daughter being given more meaningful time with her father, and a veteran being reminded that his country has not forgotten him.

Please donate or share Terry's story today. Help my father regain his independence and live the time ahead with the comfort, connection, and dignity he deserves. He carried others for a lifetime. Together, we can carry him now.