That was the dream. That was where it all began.

What she couldn’t have known then was that it would become a 21-year career in the United States Navy — a career that would carry her across the globe, test her in moments of history, and shape the way she shows up for others long after she hung up the uniform.

Her first assignment was aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt, a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier stretching four football fields long — so massive it feels less like a ship and more like a city floating on water. She still remembers climbing the long flights of stairs to step aboard for the first time.

“You have to climb all the stairs to get up on it,” she said. “And then you render honors when you walk aboard, and the whole process is so intimidating.”

A week after she checked onboard, September 11 happened.

Nine days later, they deployed.

They were one of the first ships sent out, operating night flight missions while the country was still reeling. Katt served in public affairs, telling the Navy’s story in real time during one of the most pivotal moments in modern history. In an environment where far fewer women held leadership roles, she learned to lead with clarity, confidence, and grit.

Early in her career, an Admiral told her something that stayed with her: “No” was never a final answer unless he was the one who said it.

“I was a very junior Sailor then,” she said. “And it blew my mind that he was practically admitting the easy answer is usually the one that actually halts all progress. That was one of those key moments that showed me there was always a way to get to yes.”

She carried that mindset through deployments, leadership roles, and more than two decades of service. (Badass, we know.)

When she retired, she brought it home.

Katt settled in rural Virginia with her son and built a life on her farm, Whittenberger Wilds. Yes, there are goats and dogs, chickens and ducks, and even a pig named Petunia. The mountains are quiet. The roads are winding. The beauty is undeniable.

But rural beauty can often mask rural barriers.

As Katt connected with veterans in her area, she began to see a troubling pattern. Many were elderly. Many were isolated. Many had asked the VA for help decades ago and been told no, and that word had stuck.

Some didn’t have reliable transportation to get to appointments. Some were housebound due to physical limitations or depression. Many widows didn’t know they qualified for survivor benefits that could help lift them above the poverty line.

When she visited a local VFW, she noticed something else: post-9/11 veterans weren’t strongly represented. The generation who deployed in the years following 9/11 didn’t always feel like there was a space carved out for them. There wasn’t even a dedicated 9/11 memorial event nearby.

So she built one.

Mountain Valor was born, an organization dedicated to advocating for rural Virginia veterans and their families. And Mountain Valor Fest became its heartbeat, held each year on the weekend closest to September 11. It’s a day of remembrance, connection, and access, bringing together veterans, families, nonprofits, and resources in one place so no one has to navigate the system alone.

This year, Chive Charities was invited to attend Mountain Valor Fest as a resource for veterans and families.

Katt was doing what she always does, of course. Welcoming people, connecting organizations, and checking on veterans who might otherwise stay on the margins.

What she didn’t know was that the mission was about to come full circle.

In front of her community, we surprised her with the news that Chive Charities would be funding an ADA-accessible van to support Mountain Valor’s work. It was all possible because of donors like you for a total impact of $55,000.

In rural communities, transportation can be a big difference maker. 

You cannot access care if you cannot get to the appointment. You cannot apply for benefits if you can’t make the first meeting. And for veterans who were told “no” decades ago, trying again can feel overwhelming.

This van changes that.

It means Katt can personally transport veterans and widows to the care they’ve earned. It means she can sit beside them on winding mountain roads and help ease the anxiety that often comes before walking into a benefits office. It means isolation loses its grip.

Katt once stood on the deck of a ship four football fields long, rendering honors before deploying into a world forever changed by September 11. Today, she stands on her farm in rural Virginia, making sure the veterans in her community are seen, supported, and — quite literally — driven toward opportunity.

She joined because she wanted to see the ocean.

What she found was purpose and a career that would shape the rest of her life.

More than two decades later, the water may be miles away, but the mission isn’t. She’s still answering the call. Still refusing to accept “no.” Still finding a way forward for the veterans who need someone to believe there’s another yes out there.

Chive Charities is honored to support Katt Whittenberger and Mountain Valor, but there are countless veterans across this country who still face barriers to mobility and access.

If you believe geography should never determine whether a veteran receives care… if you believe “no” should never be the final word… we invite you to become part of our donor family, helping make the world 10% happier for veterans like Katt and the ones she serves. Ay, ay, Captain. DONATE HERE.