By Hunter Owen

I’ve spent most of my adult life in uniform. As a dad I’ve done my best to balance fatherhood and life in uniform. But the truth is, I’ve been in and out of my kids’ lives more than I care to admit. Deployments, duty stations, missed birthdays, and video calls from a continent away became the rhythm of being a dad. And now, as I try to rebuild those bonds—while managing PTSD and a traumatic brain injury. The one thing that helps me reconnect with my three boys is getting lost in the woods.

Not just talking about the woods outside my backdoor. I’m talking about the sprawling, untamed beauty of our public lands. The places where cell signals vanish, screens go dark, and the only distractions are bird calls and trail forks. These lands don’t just offer peace; they offer presence. The kind I couldn’t give my kids for far too long.

But now, those places are under threat. Lawmakers are pushing to sell off public lands. A recent last-minute amendment to the House budget reconciliation bill would authorize the sale of nearly 500,000 acres of public land in Utah and Nevada. If you read the headlines, it’s being touted as a fix for federal deficits or the housing crisis. But when you slow down and look at the details, you’ll see what it really is: the beginning of the end for something uniquely American.

The federal government manages roughly 640 million acres of land. These lands aren’t luxury preserves or solely pristine parks with entry gates and rules about selfies. They’re working lands, open to ranchers, hunters, hikers, loggers, families like mine, and families like yours. They’re our public lands.

And they’ve been my lifeline.

When I’m with my boys in the woods, I’m not a veteran trying to hold it together. I’m just Dad. We pitch tents, build fires, identify animal tracks, and skip rocks. I’ve seen my youngest learn what poison oak looks like, and my oldest open up about middle school drama in the quiet shade of a ponderosa pine. In those moments, I don’t feel broken. I feel whole.

I’ll be honest—after years of service, you carry more ghosts than gear. PTSD and TBI’s don’t clock out. I’ve tried therapy. I’ve taken the pills. But nothing gives me peace like time in the wild with my kids. It grounds me. It grounds us.

I’ll be honest—after years of service, you carry more ghosts than gear. PTSD and TBI’s don’t clock out. I’ve tried therapy. I’ve taken the pills. But nothing gives me peace like time in the wild with my kids. It grounds me. It grounds us.

And now, a few powerful politicians—elected by the public but serving only themselves—want to take that away. Not just from me, but from every father, mother, veteran, and kid who hasn’t even seen these places yet. They want to turn what’s public into private, what’s shared into fenced-off property.

Public lands aren’t just important to me—they’re important to our nation. Department of the Interior reports activities on public lands supported 949,000 jobs and generated $252.1 billion in economic output in 2023. These are the lands that support rural economies, outdoor guides, fishing shops, and small-town diners whose survival depends on seasonal flows of hikers and hunters.

And the mental health benefits? Even greater. The Joint Economic Committee has recognized the role of public lands in promoting physical activity and improving emotional well-being—especially among the military community.

So why would we sell off these lands for a short-term Band-Aid, unlikely to put even a dent in the real issues at hand?

Yes, we have a housing crisis. But paving over forests is not the answer. Auctioning off our national legacy is not the answer. Once these lands are gone, they don’t come back.

To anyone reading this—parent, veteran, policymaker, neighbor—hear me when I say: This fight is not abstract. It’s about whether my sons, and your children, will be able to lose themselves in a quiet forest and find something they didn’t know they needed.

To anyone reading this—parent, veteran, policymaker, neighbor—hear me when I say: This fight is not abstract. It’s about whether my sons, and your children, will be able to lose themselves in a quiet forest and find something they didn’t know they needed.

It’s about whether America will continue to be a place where you can load up a backpack, drive out of town, and step into land that belongs to you—no fees, no reservations, no gates.

It’s about connections. To nature. To each other. To healing.

As a father, I’m asking you to pay attention. Write and call your representatives TODAY. Speak up before these lands slip through our fingers. I gave the better part of my life to serving this country. All I’m asking now is that we not let a few politicians strip away what makes this country worth coming home to.

Let’s conserve our public lands—not just for what they are, but for what they allow us to become.

Because for me, and for so many others, these lands are the last bridge between the war we left behind and the peace we’re still trying to find.

Time is critical. Call TODAY and follow with an email. Join us: United We Stand for Public Lands.