Four months without my brother Greg. I read those words and shake my head.

On April 9, 2026, Greg passed away, and my heart and soul were amputated through and through. For more than 20 years, we’ve served thousands of amputees through the ROMP mission. My experience living with physical amputation did not prepare me for the heartbreak of this loss, the grief of losing my brother, my best friend, and my social justice warrior partner.

Greg was there in 2006 when I first moved to Guatemala to get ROMP going. Over the years, we lived together in both Guatemala and Ecuador. We shared countless adventures, passionate conversations about social justice and accessible healthcare, and, most importantly, we did real work together bringing mobility and healthcare to people who otherwise might have gone without it.

Greg is very much part of the reason why ROMP climbs to raise money for amputees.

In 2010, he created ROMP’s first major mobility fundraiser, riding his bicycle from Oregon all the way to Guatemala. When we held the first Climbing for ROMP in Ecuador in 2015, Greg was there, pulling and pushing our adaptive athletes up Pasochoa, Pichincha, the Illinizas, and Cayambe.

Greg was a man of action. His spirit and his enormous heart live on in the people he touched, the dreams he had, and the communities he helped build.

Although he is physically gone, I hear his voice.

He is saying:

“Climb for ROMP! Get into the mountains. Raise more money than ever before. Make more legs. Get more people walking. Life is short. Aim high. Don’t give up. Ask for donations all the time. Invite everyone to give the gift of mobility.”

He’d actually say some of that with expletives that I’m too shy to write here.

So I’m listening to you Greg.

And this year, I’m looking for you.

I’m committing myself again to the very thing that brought us to Ecuador in the first place: the opportunity to change a life and to set things a little more right in the world.

I know I’ll find Greg in the mountain air. I’ll find him in the snow on Cotopaxi, in the cloud forests of Ecuador, in tired legs and early mornings, and in the camaraderie and shared purpose that unite our entire team this year.

Greg climbed for ROMP for many years because he believed deeply in what this event represents. In his own words:

“This event, Climbing for ROMP, is about mobility and equal healthcare access around the globe. ROMP is fighting to ensure that everyone has access to necessary care, which changes lives in a profound and measurable way.”

That’s why I’m climbing this year.

If Greg’s life, his work, or his story means something to you, please make a donation.

Help us make more legs. Help us get more people walking. Help us keep climbing.

Thank you, Greg, for being the greatest of brothers and a loving son. Thank you for being the best uncle to Nina, Oli, Emma, Lydia and Wyatt. Thank you for being a true friend to so many people and an unwavering champion for social justice. Thank you for showing us that when something in this world isn’t right, you don’t just talk about it, you get to work.

And thank you to everyone who gives in his honor.

You will see Greg in wild spaces, in your memories if you knew him in life, and in the smiles of the many people walking again.