JULY Newsletter: The People Who Say Yes Every thriving community has people who quietly make it stronger. They're the students willing to try something new. The volunteers who raise their hand to serve. The mentors who pass their knowledge to the next generation. They're ordinary people whose simple decision to say "yes" creates extraordinary ripple effects. That's the inspiration behind this month's issue of A Stronger Community Together. Inside, you'll find stories about courage, leadership, service, and the small decisions that help shape the future of Bonner County. You'll also find updates on what's next at the EnVision Center as we continue investing in the people, partnerships, and ideas that strengthen our community. We hope these stories leave you asking one simple question: Where is my next "yes"?

Idaho Runs on Nonprofits: A Conversation with the Idaho Community Foundation If you have ever wondered whether the nonprofit sector really matters to Idaho's economy, Bill Pfinsgraff has some numbers that might surprise you. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Bill, the Philanthropic Advisor for the northern region of the Idaho Community Foundation , covering the northern ten counties of our state. He is one of those people who is just genuinely fun to talk to, and what he shared about the state of philanthropy in Idaho, who is giving, who is moving here, and what it all means for organizations like ours, was both eye-opening and encouraging. First, the numbers. According to the Idaho Community Foundation's State of the Sector report , nonprofits in Idaho are the fifth largest sector in the state, just behind construction. They employ over 81,000 people and contribute $13.1 billion to Idaho's economy. Let that sink in for a moment. The nonprofit sector is not a side note to Idaho's story. It is a central chapter. The Idaho Community Foundation, or ICF, was founded in 1988 and exists for one purpose: to support the nonprofit sector across the state of Idaho. Unlike a private foundation, which typically has a single source of funding and a single initiative, ICF draws from a broad base of donors and supports a wide variety of organizations and causes. They manage endowment funds, create charitable giving vehicles for individuals and families, and work to build the long-term capacity of nonprofits throughout Idaho. One of his favorite phrases says it well: Idaho runs on nonprofits. One of the most interesting parts of our conversation was about the difference between restricted and unrestricted giving. Bill made the case, gently but clearly, that unrestricted gifts are the most powerful kind of donation a nonprofit can receive. Restricted funding, while well intentioned, can sometimes create real problems. He shared an example of an organization that received a grant to renovate a building and then found themselves unable to use that building for anything beyond a very narrow set of purposes specified by the grant. The building sits there, maintained but underutilized, while the organization's actual needs go unmet. Unrestricted gifts, on the other hand, allow organizations to respond to what is actually happening on the ground and to evolve their mission as the community's needs change. Bill also shared some fascinating findings from ICF's New Idahoans Study, a research project that looked at who is moving to Idaho, where they are coming from, and how to connect them with local nonprofits. The majority of new residents are coming from California, with Washington state a close second. And contrary to what many people assume, it is not primarily retirees making the move. It is young families who could not afford to raise children where they came from and see Idaho as a place where they can build a life. These newcomers tend to be community minded and genuinely want to get involved. The challenge is connecting them with local organizations rather than defaulting to the national nonprofits they already know. The study also surfaced something worth noting. Idaho is third in the nation in volunteerism, which speaks to something real and good about who we are as a state. But we rank 47th in philanthropic giving. Bill believes a number of factors contribute to that gap, including the large percentage of new residents still finding their footing, the lack of large private foundations in our state compared to others, and the simple reality that Idaho is becoming increasingly unaffordable. When housing costs are climbing toward twice the ratio seen during the 2007 housing bubble, people have less margin to give financially, even when they genuinely want to. The solution, Bill says, is not to give up on those donors but to meet them where they are. Low barriers of entry. Family friendly volunteer opportunities. Community events that introduce people to organizations without immediately asking for a major commitment. Build the relationship first, and the giving will follow. What stayed with me most from our conversation was Bill's answer when I asked him what his favorite part of the job is. He said this work has restored his faith in humanity. Every day he meets people whose only goal is to support their community and give back to people they have never met. In a world where the loudest voices online are often the most discouraging, he gets to see people at their best. That is something worth holding onto. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we believe that a strong community depends on a strong nonprofit sector, and a strong nonprofit sector depends on donors, volunteers, and organizations working together with trust and intention. The Idaho Community Foundation is doing important work to make that possible across our entire state. To learn more about the Idaho Community Foundation, their grant programs, or how to create a charitable fund, visit idahocf.org. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Bill Pfinsgraff.

The Voices Behind the Voices Every episode of A Little Birdie Told Me features a guest sharing their story, their mission, and their passion for this community. What most listeners don't know is that behind so many of those episodes, there have been two teenagers from Priest River who drove over, set up the equipment, managed the sound, and made sure it all came together. This one is for them — and hopefully future interns too. On a recent and very special episode, our Executive Director Katie Begalke turned the microphone around and interviewed our very own podcast interns, Audrey McKinney and Hunter Patterson. Audrey is 17 and just finished her junior year. Hunter is 18 and heading off to college to study law. Both found their way to us through their homeschool community, Classical Conversations, and both have been showing up faithfully each week for the past two years to do work that most adults would find intimidating. When Audrey first heard about the opportunity, she wasn't sure what she was getting into. She had no idea she'd be trusted to actually edit the episodes. As she put it, she didn't even know how to put something on a thumb drive. Hunter was similarly unsure, but decided that if he never went after an opportunity like this, he never would. So he wrote up his application, sent it in, and the rest is history. What they learned goes well beyond the technical. Yes, they can now talk about lighting, camera angles, the rule of thirds, and why you point a light at the ceiling instead of directly at your subject. Hunter even brought knowledge from his 3D animation work in Blender and found that the principles translated beautifully to physical filmmaking. But the bigger lessons were the ones that sneak up on you. Audrey talked about how simply listening to the interviews over two years gave her a front row seat to the depth and breadth of nonprofit work happening in Bonner County. The needs, the people, the passion. It opened her eyes in ways she didn't expect. Hunter talked about responsibility, about learning to manage a schedule, to show up, to communicate, to troubleshoot when things don't go perfectly, which in podcasting, they never do. Before wrapping up their time with us, the two of them created a standard operating procedure document, a step-by-step guide with photos walking through the entire production process from start to finish, so whoever comes next has a roadmap. That is not a small thing. That is the kind of thoughtfulness that says everything about who these two young people are. Audrey is heading to Taiwan at the end of August for a full academic year abroad through the Rotary Youth Exchange program, living with three different host families, attending a local high school, and learning Mandarin along the way. Hunter is heading to college to study law, with video production and technology staying close as passions he plans to carry forward. We could not be more proud of both of them. When Katie asked what advice they would give to future interns, Audrey said it simply: come with an open heart and open ears. Just listen. Hunter said: if you're nervous, just do it. The work environment here is forgiving, and there is so much room to learn. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we talk a lot about community and connection and the power of showing up. Audrey and Hunter have embodied all of that, each week, for two years. They have helped amplify the voices of dozens of nonprofits and community leaders across North Idaho, and in doing so, they have grown into two remarkably thoughtful, capable, and generous young people. We are going to miss them so much. But we have a feeling we haven't heard the last from either of them. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me, hosted by Community Resource EnVision Center Executive Director Katie Begalke. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Audrey and Hunter.

A Little Bit SASi: The Organization Serving Sandpoint Seniors for Over 50 Years If you haven't heard of Sandpoint Area Seniors Inc. , you might know them better by their nickname: SASi. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with William Brasch, their new development director, to talk about the work they're doing and why it matters so much to the health of our community. William is about as new to Sandpoint as it gets. He had only been here four weeks when we recorded this conversation, having relocated from Washington after landing the role at SASi. His background is a fun one — he started out thinking he wanted to be a chef, earned degrees in culinary arts and nutrition, and later got his MBA before finding his way into nonprofit development work at a Washington nonprofit serving at-risk and homeless youth. When the role at SASi came open, the fit was clear on both sides. His background in food and nutrition pairs naturally with one of SASi's most important programs, and the organization had been looking for the right person for quite some time. So what does SASi actually do? More than most people realize. The organization started over 50 years ago as a simple gathering space for seniors, and William told me the story of how it began with two wives who wanted to create a place where they could keep an eye on their husbands while doing crafts. It's a founding story that feels very Sandpoint to me, practical, community minded, and a little bit clever. From those humble beginnings, SASi has grown into a full service senior support organization tackling two of the most pressing issues facing older adults in our community: food insecurity and social isolation. Their home delivered meals program is one of the most meaningful things happening in Bonner County. Monday through Friday, staff prepare hot and cold meals and volunteers deliver them directly to seniors across all of Bonner County, including our rural areas where isolation can be especially acute. William told me about going on a ride along where he met volunteers ranging from age 80 down to five years old — five year olds who go out with their parents each week, deliver meals, and write little notes to the seniors they serve. As a father of five, that really touched him. It touched me too. SASi also loans out medical equipment at no cost, offers a full calendar of activities and shared lunches at their center, and recently hosted an AI presentation for seniors that drew a big crowd. They have a volunteer who provides regular tech support, which matters more than it might sound when so much of daily life now happens online. One of the things William said that has stayed with me is his observation about aging and stigma. SASi serves anyone 50 and older, but reaching that younger generation of seniors requires getting past the idea that walking through their doors means admitting you're old. As William put it, we're all aging and there's nothing we can do about it. There is no shame in finding community and support along the way. His perspective on why all of this matters is worth sharing. The people coming through SASi's doors are the people who built this community — the farmers, teachers, government workers, and Rotary members who have already given so much. They deserve to be served in return. That idea connects with what we believe at the EnVision Center every day. A strong community takes care of all of its members across every stage of life. If you would like to get involved, reach out to SASi's office administrator Arie, who can connect you with volunteer opportunities, meal delivery routes, or information about upcoming programs. Two events worth putting on your calendar: SASi Uncorked, a wine tasting fundraiser on August 15th, and SASi's Art Alive, a live art event and auction at Little Panida on September 12th. Welcome to Sandpoint, William. We are really glad you're here. And something tells us the SASi community is too. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from William Brasch.

Strong Leaders, Strong Organizations, Stronger Communities Some people retire and head for the beach. Phil Hough is not one of those people. Not when there is still community work to be done. On a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , I sat down with Phil Hough, a Sandpoint community member whose career has taken him from five-star hotels to wilderness conservation to a brand new chapter as a nonprofit consultant and coach. His journey is one of those rare stories where every chapter seems to have been preparing him for the next one, even when he didn't know it yet. Phil spent 20 years in the hospitality industry, starting at the five-diamond Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs and going on to work at Hyatt flagship properties in Scottsdale, San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, Monterey, and beyond. He became a Certified Meeting Professional and a Learning Environment Specialist, earned through years of experience and intensive training. He worked on three presidential visits. He learned, as he put it, that people are just people with the same basic needs, and that serving others well means really understanding what those needs are. When he and his wife Deb moved to Bonner County in 2002, Phil was ready for something new. He got involved with the local Native Plant Society, dug into forest planning issues, and eventually helped found the Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness, an organization he led for 21 years before retiring from the role earlier this year. Along the way he also helped found the Idaho Trails Association and remains on its advisory board today. The Friends of Scotchman Peaks grew to a staff of five, hundreds of annual volunteers, and a suite of community programs including guided hikes, a trail ambassador program, a trail stewardship program, and the Winter Tracks youth education program, which gets 450 to 550 students from schools across Bonner County and into Montana out into nature each winter. It is a remarkable body of work. And Phil is just getting started on the next thing. He has recently launched Hough Consulting and Coaching, built around a tagline that pretty well sums up his philosophy: strong leaders, strong organizations, stronger communities. The idea is straightforward. Many nonprofits in Bonner County and beyond are relatively young, passion-driven, and led by people who care deeply about their mission but may not have had formal training in the business and management side of running an organization. Phil can help with both. On the consulting side, he works with organizations on structure, bylaws, human resources practices, board development, and strategic planning. On the coaching side, he works with the individuals doing the leading, helping them develop the resilience, clarity, and personal strength to do this work sustainably over the long haul. 

Building Confidence, One Credential at a Time Sandpoint High School has always been a source of pride in our community but, what's happening there right now might just take it to a whole new level! I had the privilege of sitting down with two of the people making it happen. Jeralyn Mire is the Post-Secondary Transition Counselor at Sandpoint High School, a role she describes with a laugh as "a really fancy title, no extra pay," and Alex Gray is a teacher and Career and Technical Education Director who is starting his 25th year at the school. Together, they painted a picture of a high school that is doing far more than most people realize, and a new facility that is about to make it even better. Every student in Idaho public education has $4,125 in advanced opportunity funding available to them, money that can be used for industry certifications, workforce training, college credits, and AP tests. That means a student at Sandpoint High School can graduate not just with a diploma, but with an A-plus IT certification, a commercial driver's license, a certified nursing assistant credential, SolidWorks certification, an American Welding Society certificate, and more, often at little or no cost to their family. One of Alex's students is driving a water truck for a fire crew this summer. Four young women are starting their EMT training in the fall. A student who came in from California and wanted to get straight to work crammed three of Alex's classes into two years and is now employed in the field. These are not hypothetical outcomes. They are happening right now, right here in Sandpoint. Jeralyn made a point worth sitting with. She said that for a lot of students, the goal isn't necessarily a four-year degree, and that's okay. What matters is having a plan. Whether that's military service, a two-year program, a certification, or heading straight into the workforce, the school's job is to help students take that first confident step. And what's becoming clearer is that the skills students build through Career and Technical Education, what the school calls CTE, don't close doors. They open them. A student who earns their CNA certification in high school might go on to become a nurse or a doctor. A student who learns IT fundamentals might land a job at a university help desk while finishing a computer science degree. The credential is a launchpad, not a ceiling. Alex put it in a way that I loved. He said that if a student takes his class and decides they hate computers, he considers that just as big a success as the student who earns every certification. Finding out what isn't for you, while it's free and while you're still in high school, is enormously valuable. How much better to discover that in a classroom than after four years and a degree in something you can't stand. Now, about that new building. A brand new Career and Technical Education Center is opening on the south side of Sandpoint High School this fall, funded in large part by the Idaho Career Ready Students Grant, which Dr. Meyer pursued with what Alex described simply as tenacity. The center includes four classrooms and two large labs, each purposefully designed for the programs they'll house. The CNA classroom has hospital beds and sinks built in, finally giving nursing students a real simulation of the environment they're training for. The residential carpentry lab has a garage door tall enough to actually build things in. Alex's IT classroom has dedicated storage and workspace for the student interns who repair Chromebooks for every school in the district. A sports medicine program now has a permanent home. JROTC has been brought under the CTE umbrella, opening up new funding and professional development opportunities. And the culinary program, which went on a two year-long hiatus when its teacher retired, is coming back to life in the spring. The automotive lab is the one piece that won't open until fall of 2027, and that's intentional. Local automotive businesses have already toured the facility, weighed in on equipment, and some have even set aside money to help purchase lifts and tools. Community service groups have stepped up too. When it opens, it will be done right. I mentioned to Alex and Jeralyn that from where I sit at the EnVision Resource Center, it is really meaningful to see the community speaking up about what it needs and then watching that actually come to fruition. Our local employers have been asking for workers with real skills. Our students have been asking for relevant, hands-on learning. And our school has been listening. That is exactly the kind of connection that makes a community stronger. A few things worth knowing if you have a student, know a student, or want to get involved. Sandpoint High School welcomes homeschool students into CTE classes when space allows, so that's worth a conversation if it applies to your family. If you have a skill or expertise you'd be willing to share with students, the school wants to hear from you. And if you want to see the new center for yourself, Alex and Jeralyn would be happy to give you a tour. The grand opening is September 15th at 3:30 p.m., and the community is invited. It is just one step, as Jeralyn likes to tell her students. But what a step it is. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me. Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Jeralyn Mire and Alex Gray.

We're Building More Than a Bus Shelter Community Resource EnVision Center Awarded 2026 AARP Community Challenge Grant We are excited to share that the Community Resource EnVision Center has been selected as a recipient of a 2026 AARP Community Challenge Flagship Grant ! Out of more than 5,100 applications submitted from across all 50 states, Washington, D.C., Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands, just 750 projects were selected for funding. We are incredibly honored that Bonner County is among them. Thanks to this investment from AARP, we will install a permanent, ADA-accessible SPOT bus shelter and wayfinding hub at the EnVision Center campus on McGhee Road. The project will include a weather-protected shelter, accessible seating, improved site accessibility, transit route information, and directional signage to help visitors easily locate the EnVision Center, the Bonner County VA Clinic, the Department of Labor, Calvary Chapel, and other partner organizations located on campus. While this project may look like "just a bus shelter," it's really about removing barriers. Every day, older adults, veterans, job seekers, and families rely on SPOT transportation to access health care, employment services, and community resources. Today, many of those riders wait without shelter from snow, rain, wind, or summer heat. This project will create a safer, more comfortable, and more welcoming arrival experience while making it easier for residents—especially those age 50 and older—to access the services they need with dignity and independence. "At the EnVision Center, we often talk about removing barriers before they become obstacles," said Katie Begalke, Executive Director of the Community Resource EnVision Center. "Thanks to AARP's generosity, we'll be able to create a safer, more accessible transit stop serving older adults, veterans, job seekers, and families throughout Bonner County. This project is about much more than a bus shelter—it's about ensuring people can access health care, employment opportunities, and community connections with confidence, dignity, and independence." This investment is another exciting step toward our vision of creating a stronger, more connected, and more accessible Bonner County. We are grateful to AARP for recognizing the importance of investing in rural communities and helping us build infrastructure that supports residents of all ages. About the AARP Community Challenge The AARP Community Challenge is part of AARP's nationwide Livable Communities initiative, which funds quick-action projects that improve transportation, public spaces, housing, digital connectivity, disaster resilience, and other community amenities. These investments help communities become safer, more accessible, and more livable for people of all ages. To learn more about the AARP Community Challenge and view this year's funded projects, visit AARP.org/CommunityChallenge.

What Does It Mean to Belong? Every month, as we begin planning this newsletter, I start noticing patterns. Sometimes they emerge through conversations with nonprofit leaders. Sometimes they come from podcast interviews, community meetings, or simply paying attention to what's happening around Bonner County. This month, one word kept finding its way back to me. Belonging. At first, I didn't realize it. We interviewed Dr. Sarah Lynch from the North Idaho Pride Alliance about creating spaces where people can be their authentic selves. We sat down with three nonprofit leaders to talk about the hidden face of homelessness and the importance of truly seeing the people around us. We spoke with veterans, artists, and community builders who reminded us that service doesn't end when one chapter of life closes—it simply finds new expression. On the surface, those seem like completely different conversations. But the more I reflected on them, the more I realized they were all answering the same question. What helps a person feel like they belong? Belonging isn't just about fitting in. It's about being seen. It's about knowing someone cares enough to listen. It's about finding purpose after a difficult season. It's about discovering a community that welcomes your gifts and gives you opportunities to share them. Sometimes belonging begins with a conversation. Sometimes it begins with someone saying, "I see you." Sometimes it begins with a mentor, a volunteer, a neighbor, or a new friend who simply shows up. As I listened back to this month's interviews, I realized every guest was describing the same kind of community—one where people don't have to navigate life alone. At the Community Resource EnVision Center, we often talk about connecting people with resources. But the truth is, resources are only part of the equation. The real goal has always been connection. Because resources solve immediate needs. Relationships change lives. That idea was reinforced in June in ways that extended far beyond our podcast studio. We were honored to receive an AARP Community Challenge Grant that will improve access to the EnVision Center through a new SPOT bus shelter, bench, route map, and wayfinding signage. Our annual EnVision Invitational brought together golfers, volunteers, sponsors, and supporters to invest in the future of our community. The Mountain West Bank team transformed one of our walls into a vibrant mural that welcomes everyone who walks through our doors. And we celebrated recording our 100th episode of A Little Birdie Told Me—one hundred conversations that have introduced us to the remarkable people working every day to strengthen Bonner County. Individually, those are accomplishments. Together, they tell a story. A story about creating places where people feel welcome. About organizations choosing collaboration over competition. About neighbors investing in neighbors. About building a community where everyone has the opportunity to connect, contribute, and thrive. As our nation begins celebrating America's 250th anniversary, I've found myself thinking less about what makes us different and more about what brings us together. Maybe that's the real measure of a healthy community. Not that we all share the same experiences. But that we share a commitment to seeing one another, serving one another, and making room for one another. That's the Bonner County I see every day. And it's the one I'm excited to keep building—together. 

Treating the Whole Person: A Conversation with Thin Line Community Support Some organizations fill a gap. Others see a gap nobody else has named yet and build something entirely new to fill it. That's one of the thoughts that stayed with me after a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when I sat down with Kirk Mickelson, fundraising and outreach coordinator for Thin Line Community Support . Kirk spent more than two decades in the United States Army, retiring as a lieutenant colonel, and has spent the years since building businesses and supporting nonprofits that serve veterans, first responders, and their families. Now he's doing that work right here in North Idaho, and the more he told me about what Thin Line is building, the more I wanted everyone in our community to know about it. Thin Line Community Support was founded about a year ago by Donte Rumore, a former United States Marine who now works as a counselor for veterans in Sandpoint. While working with clients, Donte noticed something important: counseling is a critical piece of the puzzle, but it isn't the whole picture. True well-being involves so much more. It involves movement, community, purpose, and joy. It involves doing the things that make you feel like yourself again. So he built an organization to make those things possible. As Kirk put it, we often tell someone with PTSD to go see a counselor, and that is absolutely part of it. But it's not everything. Everybody has something that makes them tick. For some veterans and first responders, that's mountain biking or jujitsu or working out. For others, it might be yoga, or fishing on the lake in December, or helping build a set for a local theater production. Thin Line exists to connect people with those experiences and to make sure cost and access aren't the things standing in the way. The organization serves veterans at any stage — active duty, National Guard, Reserve, retired — as well as law enforcement, firefighters, and other first responders. The goal is to wrap around the whole person, not just one aspect of their life, and to do it alongside others who understand what service looks and feels like. One of the things I found most compelling about this conversation was Kirk's vision for what Thin Line could become in this community. He talked about the number of well-intentioned, big-hearted people who have started small veteran-focused groups in North Idaho — a skiing group here, a mountain biking group there, a hunting program somewhere else. Each one born from genuine love for this population. But in a community our size, sustaining all of those separately is a challenge. Thin Line's hope is to become the umbrella that brings those groups together, so that when a new veteran moves to Bonner County and mentions they love to ski, there's one place to send them that can connect them with everything available. That kind of network is already starting to take shape. Thin Line has a strong partnership with the VFW post here in Sandpoint — who recently voted to sponsor a scholarship so veterans who qualify but can't afford a jujitsu class can have it funded for them. They're working with the Bonner County Veteran Service Office, so that Tom and his team can refer veterans directly to Thin Line for the well-being piece. They've partnered with Panhandle Bike Ranch for veteran mountain bike afternoons, with Matchwood Brewing for community events, and with Honey Pearl Productions on the upcoming production of 1776, which includes a special pre-funk dinner on the 4th of July benefiting Thin Line directly. Current programs include jujitsu, a fitness membership through UCAN Gym, and a yoga studio that is in its final stages of being set up just across the street from Utara Brewing in downtown Sandpoint. They're still looking for a yoga instructor or two willing to volunteer some time, so if that's you, please reach out. Transportation for veterans in outlying areas is one of the biggest needs Kirk identified, and it's one that multiple organizations in our community are working on together. If you're a veteran who has struggled to get to community care appointments, there's a meeting at the VFW on July 16th from 10 to 2 specifically to address this. Your voice matters there. Coming from a family with deep ties to law enforcement and the military, and having spent time myself as a probation officer, Kirk's story resonated with me personally. He talked about waking up after retirement and asking himself what his purpose was now. The answer he landed on was simple and clear: to serve other veterans and help them work through whatever they're going through. He quoted Bonner County's Veteran Service Officer, Thomas Lindley, who puts it this way — once you get your own life squared away, it's your responsibility to help somebody else get there. That philosophy is the backbone of everything Thin Line is doing. That idea connects deeply with what we believe at the Community Resource EnVision Center . We are stronger together, and the work of building a healthy, connected community is never done by one organization alone. Thin Line is a wonderful example of what's possible when someone identifies a need and has the courage and commitment to do something about it. If you'd like to support Thin Line Community Support, donate, sign up for a program, or just learn more, you can find them at www.thinlinecommunitysupport.org or on Facebook. And if you're a veteran or first responder who has been looking for your people here in North Idaho, I have a feeling they're already waiting for you. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me . Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Kirk Mickelson.

Brothers, Sisters, and a Community That Shows Up Some people serve their country for a few years. Others never really stop. That's the thought that stayed with me after a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when I sat down with three members of VFW Post 2453 right here in Sandpoint. Yvonne Krieger, who served 31 years in the Air Force and now serves as the post's quartermaster. John Stoddard, a Gulf War veteran and junior vice commander who was at the Pentagon on September 11th. And AJ Cruz, post commander, Vietnam veteran, Purple Heart recipient, and Agent Orange survivor. Between the three of them, they've lived more history than most of us will ever read about. And they are still showing up, every single day, for the veterans and community members around them. The Veterans of Foreign Wars was founded on a simple idea: that those who have served in overseas conflicts deserve camaraderie, advocacy, and support when they return home. But what I learned from my conversation with Yvonne, John, and AJ is that the work of VFW Post 2453 extends far beyond what most people realize. Take medical equipment. The post collects donated wheelchairs, walkers, shower chairs, and other medical supplies and loans them out — to veterans and community members alike — completely free of charge. When someone no longer needs a piece of equipment, they bring it back, and it goes to the next person who does. They recently acquired a 20-foot storage container just to keep up with the volume. No paperwork, no waiting list, no cost. Just people taking care of people. Or consider their firewood program. In partnership with a local church, post members cut and stack cords of wood each year, storing it on land generously donated by Peak Sand and Gravel. Come winter, veterans and low-income community members can come pick up a quarter cord for free. The only requirement for veterans is proof of service. For anyone else in need, that requirement is waived entirely. And then there's the rides. Because many veterans in our area use community care providers rather than the VA hospital, the VA's transportation services often don't cover their trips. Post 2453 steps in to fill that gap, coordinating volunteer drivers to get veterans to their appointments in Sandpoint, Coeur d'Alene, Post Falls, and beyond. They are actively looking for more drivers right now — and it's worth knowing that drivers are compensated for their time and mileage. If you have a few hours to spare and want to make a real difference, this is one of the most direct ways to do it. What struck me most, though, wasn't any single program. It was the spirit behind all of them. These are people who were trained to look out for their fellow service members, and that instinct never really turns off. AJ said it simply: "We reach out to somebody in need and help them out. That's what we were taught in the military. It's just our personalities." That extends to the younger members of the community, too. Once a month, the post opens its doors to the Sandpoint Teen Center, offering a space to relax, play pool, watch movies, and just be together. They give out scholarships through the Voice of Democracy and Patriot's Pen programs. They recognize teachers, first responders, and scouts with annual awards. They host a Thanksgiving turkey shoot that benefits the food bank. Last year alone, Post 2453 gave out $3,000 in scholarships and invested another $14,000 back into the community through direct support for veterans in need. There's also something quieter happening at the post that I think deserves to be said out loud. Every week, a licensed counselor leads a free group session for veterans dealing with PTSD. AJ, who goes himself, put it plainly: "Just about everybody who's been in a combat zone, whether they want to admit it or not, carries something." Having a room full of people who understand that — who have been there — can make all the difference. One of the things I find myself coming back to from this conversation is what Yvonne said about joining. After 31 years in the Air Force, she returned to her hometown and wanted to find her people. The VFW was her first stop. "You kind of lose that camaraderie when you leave the military," she said. "I wanted the same like-minded people." John echoed that with a story I loved: no matter where his work took him, he always found the nearest VFW. "You can walk in, buy everybody a beer, pay for your lunch, and still get change back from a $20. And you've made friends." That's a community. The post is working hard to bring in younger veterans and more women, both of whom are underrepresented in their current membership. To make it easier, they'll cover the first year of membership for anyone who qualifies — no cost, no commitment, just a chance to see if it feels like home. After that, annual dues are $38. Lifetime membership is even less. And if you're not sure whether you qualify, bring in your DD-214 and they'll help you figure it out. At the EnVision Center, we believe that stronger communities are built through connection, and this conversation reminded me of exactly that. Veterans are sometimes a vulnerable population — not because of weakness, but because of what they've carried and what they've seen. Organizations like VFW Post 2453 exist to make sure no one carries it alone. If you're a veteran, or you love one, the post is open Monday through Friday, 10 a.m. to noon, at 1325 Pine Street in Sandpoint, right on the corner of Pine and Division. You can also reach them by email at post2453vfw@gmail.com or by phone at 208-263-9613. As AJ put it: "If you're a veteran who has needs or needs help, your best ticket is the VFW." Their slogan says the rest: No one does more for veterans than the VFW. I believe it. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me . Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Yvonne, John, and AJ.

The Face of Hidden Homelessness in Bonner County What does it mean to truly see someone? It's a question that has come up time and again among our local leaders, and one that took center stage in a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me , when I sat down with three nonprofit leaders who are doing some of the most important and least visible work in our community. Trinity Nicholson, Executive Director of Panhandle Special Needs ; Rebecca Little of Bridge Haven (fka Bonner Homeless Transitions ) and Todd Lewis of Helping Hands, Healing Hearts joined me to talk about something that surprises a lot of people: homelessness in Bonner County is real, it's significant, and most of us walk right past it every day without knowing it. Todd opened with a story that set the tone for the whole conversation. He was meeting with a potential donor who told him, without hesitation, "We don't have a homeless problem here." It's a sentiment he hears often. And in a way, it makes sense — because homelessness in a rural community like ours doesn't look the way it does on the evening news. There are no large encampments lining downtown streets. No tent cities visible from the highway. What there is, instead, is a population that has learned out of necessity to be invisible. They're living in RVs parked off rural roads. Sleeping in cars. Couch surfing between friends and family until that option runs out. Camping on Forest Service land and moving every 14 days to stay within the rules. Renting a garage through the winter just to stay warm. Staying in an unsafe situation at home because leaving feels impossible when there's nowhere obvious to go. Todd described it simply: if you've ever driven an old country road and noticed a cluster of RVs and tents, that's a homeless encampment. At 45 miles an hour, it's easy to miss. One of the most striking parts of our conversation was the gap between official data and lived reality. The 2026 Point-in-Time count , the state figure used to direct funding across all of northern Idaho, recorded 180 people experiencing homelessness in the region. Todd served 184 people through his doors last month alone. Sixty of them live on less than $900 a month, which isn't enough to rent a room in Sandpoint, let alone an apartment. Rebecca's program currently supports 54 people under their roof, with additional participants in the community they're still actively serving. Trinity's organization works with 10 to 20 people a year who are experiencing homelessness while also navigating developmental disabilities, one of the most vulnerable and least-counted populations anywhere. When the numbers don't reflect the reality, the funding doesn't follow. And when the funding doesn't follow, the conversation doesn't happen. That's part of why I knew I needed to record this one. What also came through clearly in our conversation was how interconnected these challenges really are. Mental health, substance use, domestic violence, disability, and generational poverty don't exist in isolation. They layer on top of one another, and they layer on top of the logistical realities of rural life. Transportation alone is a major barrier. For example, the Spot Bus has limited hours, many clients live on the outskirts of town and if you work a late shift, you're biking home in the dark, in the rain, in the snow, or you're not going at all. Todd told me about a client who missed two weeks of appointments because the walking bridge near his camp had been closed for structural repairs. With no other safe way in, his whole routine simply stopped because of construction. These are the kinds of barriers that are easy to overlook when you have a car and a schedule that runs on your terms. I'll be honest, this was a good reminder and perhaps something us independent drivers take for granted. All three of my guests spoke about the importance of not just solving the immediate crisis, but walking alongside people through a longer journey. Rebecca talked about the two-year structure of Bridge Haven's program and the accountability, consistency, and genuine relationship-building that makes it work. Trinity described the careful, patient work of helping someone with a developmental disability navigate systems, access benefits, and build the life skills that most of us take for granted. Todd put a rough number on what it takes to help someone reach self-sufficiency: around $10,000, when you factor in first and last month's rent, a reliable vehicle, work-appropriate clothing, and the slow, steady rebuilding of a life. It's not a hand-out. It's an investment, and it takes a whole network of organizations, each bringing their own piece of the puzzle, to make it work. That idea resonates deeply with what I see every day at the Community Resource EnVision Center. The future of this community won't be built by any single nonprofit, agency, or program. It will be built through the connections between them and through the willingness of community members to get involved, even in small ways. You don't need a degree or a big checkbook to make a difference. You need an hour a week. A willingness to sit with someone. The ability to say, "I don't know all the answers, but I know where to start." If you can point someone toward one resource, these organizations will take it from there. We work to know each other and can make the connection. Perhaps the most memorable moment of the whole conversation came when our guests talked about what it means to be truly seen, and how rarely that happens for the people these organizations serve. Many of their clients have spent their whole lives being told, directly or indirectly, that they don't matter. That it won't work out. That they're a lost cause. And when someone sits down across from them, looks them in the eye, and says I see you , something shifts. That kind of belonging is something we all need. And it's something this community has the capacity to offer, if we're willing to look a little closer. This post is based on a recent episode of A Little Birdie Told Me . Listen to the full conversation to hear more from Trinity, Rebecca, and Todd.