Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding. Mr. Speaker, I am pleased to rise in honor of the first woman to be national commander of The American Legion. Her name is Denise Rohan. She knows that this is a milestone. Therefore, she is…
Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding.
Mr. Speaker, I am pleased to rise in honor of the first woman to be national commander of The American Legion. Her name is Denise Rohan. She knows that this is a milestone. Therefore, she is very proud to have been named to this position. She says: ``It is about time.''
From Ms. Rohan's perspective, women have always been leaders in the Legion. I am sure most of us didn't even know that.
She says: ``If you look back, women were post commanders early on. We have been in leadership positions. If we weren't leading from the front, we were still there, helping the organization along.''
She says she doesn't think of herself as a female legionnaire. She says: ``I want to be known as a great American Legion leader who happens to be a woman. I have been working hard for the Legion for more than 30 years and am humbled''--that the Legion--``chose me to be national commander. It is an honor.''
She was elected at the Legion's 99th national convention in Reno, Nevada, in August. She herself, of course, is an Army veteran and the second national commander from Wisconsin. She and her husband, Mike, belong to Mason Lindsay Post 385 in Verona. I am sure she would want that known here on the floor. They have lived 30 years in Sun Prairie.
Members have supported Ms. Rohan for a long time and are excited to see her at the top. She is regarded as very capable, outgoing, friendly, and able to bring people to a consensus.
Her parents, Joe and Dorothy Hulbert, set a strong example for three daughters. Both were volunteers and active in the local United Church of Christ.
She first encountered the Legion as a girl at Memorial Day services in a Catholic cemetery near her home. She waited patiently to receive a spent brass shell casing from the honor guard to use as a whistle.
``The town always had a parade that started at the cemetery, came down the hill, went across the bridge and ended up at another cemetery on the other side of the river,'' Ms. Rohan said. ``There was only one parade I remember going the other way, when they brought home the body of someone killed in Vietnam. It began at the high school and went up the hill. That memory stayed with me.''
Still, the idea of serving in the military herself certainly didn't occur to Ms. Rohan until a high school friend asked her and another girl to accompany her to Des Moines for an Army physical. Her friend failed, they passed, and Rohan had a choice. Unsure what she wanted to do with her life and reluctant to ask her parents to put a third child through college, she joined under the buddy system in 1974.
For a person who struggled with homesickness--that is what she called it: homesickness--she got along just fine.
``Somehow my mother lived through me sobbing on the phone every single call for a couple of weeks,'' Ms. Rohan said. ``Then I started realizing that I had another family: the women in basic training with me. They had my back, they made sure I was taken care of, and we became sisters.''
At Fort Lee, Virginia, she completed quartermaster school and was the outstanding graduate of her class. Needing female instructors, the Army sent Ms. Rohan to more training. That is where she met Mike, who was working as a television production specialist.
``I had to have some time in the studio,'' she said, teasing him. ``My roommate at the time was a runner-up for Miss West Virginia the year before she joined the Army, so here is this beautiful blonde who probably did really good on camera because she was used to that kind of stuff. He doesn't remember meeting me that day.''
By Mike's recollection, they met through a mutual friend a couple of months later. He soon realized this girl had the qualities his mother told him to seek in a woman--and more.
``She never once told me to look for someone who could shoot an M-16, or crawl under barbed wire with live fire going on, or run 2 miles with a rucksack on her back, but that is what I found,'' he says. ``Denise has all those abilities of a soldier but is also a loving wife and mother.''
They started dating, fell in love, and Mike got orders to go to Korea. About the same time, Rohan was up for reenlistment. Wanting to stay together, they were married by a justice of the peace during one of Rohan's morning breaks. Their reception was at McDonald's. ``That is our romantic place we go every year, on May 21,'' she says.
Women are veterans, too. In the end, the Army couldn't guarantee Rohan an assignment overseas, so she left the service and became an Army wife. Of course, that would not be the case today.
Over the next few years, the couple lived in Korea, Texas, and, finally, Wisconsin. Mike spent the first half of his career as enlisted, then became a warrant officer in the National Guard.
Meanwhile, Rohan built her own career at the University of Wisconsin- Madison, starting as a program assistant in the student loan office. She eventually rose to the position of assistant bursar, managing a $120 million loan officer portfolio and helping to develop a computerized system to manage it all. She retired in 2012, after 29 years. She is missed a lot, say those who worked with her and under her.
Ms. Rohan's American Legion career has had a similar trajectory. She joined in 1984, when the new commander of Post 333 in Sun Prairie, a friend of Mike's, recruited her to join so she could serve as adjunct.
She laughs when she recalls an older veteran who was flustered by a woman's presence at the meetings. He was saying something, swore, and then he took his cap off and said: ``I am sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful.'' Later, he did it again. He said: ``I just don't know how I am going to do this.'' She told him: ``Hey, I was in the Army, too. I have heard those words before.''
Ms. Rohan really found her spot in the Sun Prairie Post when she was coordinating community blood drives: four a year, for two decades. ``Each pint of blood can help three people, and we collected hundreds at each drive,'' she says. ``The volunteers kept coming back, the donors kept coming back. It makes you feel like you are making a difference.''
From there, Ms. Rohan's reputation for hard work and willingness to serve opened door after door: district adjutant and commander, department historian--she is a four-time winner of the National American Legion Historian contest--and department commander.
On the national level, she is a former chair of the Veterans Employment and Education Commission, as well as the National Membership and Post Activities Committee.
Along the way, she volunteered for dozens of smaller jobs that have cemented the Legion's place in her community, like chartering a Boy Scouts
troop, organizing children's Christmas parties, and assembling troop care packages.
None of it would have happened if Ms. Rohan was the sort to hold grudges, however. When the couple lived briefly in Marshall, Wisconsin, a member of the local American Legion came by to recruit Mike.
Rohan identified herself as an eligible veteran, but the Legion recruiter told her that women could join the auxiliary only.
Years later, the Marshall Post realized its mistake and hung a photo of Ms. Rohan, then district commander, behind a sign that says: ``Remember, women are veterans, too.''
Today, the Marshall Post is one of her biggest supporters. ``I promised they would get one of my first national commander photos to put in that frame,'' she says. ``We can do that,'' is what Rohan has become known for. Her name is known in more than just Legion circles.
At the Wisconsin National Guard Armory in Madison, she and her husband are Aunt Denise and Uncle Mike. Since 2006, they frequented drill weekends so often that young servicemen sometimes assumed they are part of their unit.
Facing a rough situation with a soldier fresh off deployment and needing resources fast, Staff Sergeant Dan Killam was told to talk to the Rohans at the Legion. That call led to an unbelievable amount of care for troops and their families.
When soldiers needed satellite phone minutes to call home after a battle, the Wisconsin Legion family raised $50,000. At a spur run for the 105th Calvary, Legionnaires fed nearly 500 people.
I think after this lengthy--but I think much deserved--report on the first woman to head The American Legion, we understand why the bill that comes before us is much deserved.