A forest of heroes: Nebraska trees planted to honor fallen service members
VALENTINE, Neb. - Wind and rain may have canceled this year’s Memorial Day ceremony in Valentine, but nothing could stop Kelly Hollopeter from remembering her son — or the sacrifice he made.
“It was on a Wednesday,” she recalled. Her husband was out of town when the phone rang nearly 18 years ago. “I got a call from somebody who I couldn’t understand because they were crying. It was my daughter-in-law, Heather. She told me that Joe was gone.”
Her son, 27-year-old Army Specialist Josiah Hollopeter, was killed in Iraq when his four-man sniper team was ambushed by insurgents.
“My daughter said it best. She came up to me and said, ‘Mom, he could have died any other way, but he died a hero,’” Hollopeter said. “That’s what I want him to be remembered as — a hero.”
Now, Josiah is remembered in a living, growing way. A young oak tree planted at the Mount Hope Cemetery in Valentine bears his name — just one of thousands that make up the growing Nebraska Memorial Forest.
“This is an oak tree dedicated to Josiah,” said Rick Joseph, of the Middle Niobrara Natural Resources District, which helped coordinate the effort locally.
The Nebraska Memorial Forest founder Jim Meier came up with the idea in 2019. His vision: to plant 7,500 trees, one for every Nebraska military or first responder fallen hero.
“In life there’s things to do, and this seems like a right thing to do,” Meier said. “They gave up their tomorrows so we could have ours.”
So far, nearly 1,800 trees have taken root in 15 different locations across the state. They include a variety of native species — oak, walnut, cedar, serviceberry — chosen not only for their symbolism but their ability to thrive.
Each tree is linked to a QR code, allowing visitors to learn the name and story of the fallen hero it honors.
The effort is a partnership between volunteers, local organizations, and grieving families. For them, the forest is more than just a landscape — it’s a place of healing, of memory, of meaning.
“You die when your heart stops for the last time,” Meier said. “And you die when nobody says your name anymore.”
“It doesn’t bring them back,” said Hollopeter. “But anytime my son is remembered by name — that’s what I want. I want him remembered.”
Rain or shine, the trees continue to grow — each one a reminder of service, sacrifice, and lives that will not be forgotten.