One Forgotten Grave + One Determined Kid = WRRF
In February 2024, a boy just shy of his tenth birthday sparked a quiet revolution.
Nicholas Aidan Pinkerton wasn’t looking to start a nonprofit. He wasn’t thinking about national change, or forgotten cemeteries, or veterans whose names had faded into the soil. He was simply watching his father work.
His dad—a retired U.S. Air Force Master Sergeant—was researching veterans buried at Cave Hill National Cemetery. Images of grave markers flicked across the screen. Some had names. Some had ranks. Then one didn’t.
Just a number.
Nicholas paused. “Who’s that and where is his name?” he asked.
“That’s a Civil War veteran,” his father replied. “No one inscribed a name.”
Nicholas stared at the screen. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” his father admitted.
And then Nicholas said something that would make his father pause.
“Don’t you think America could’ve gotten him a name by now?”
His father had no answer. Reflecting on his own military career and the men and women he had served alongside, he felt ashamed that a fellow veteran had been forgotten. That day, they decided to start a family project: to find at least one forgotten veteran and ensure he would never be forgotten again.
They started near home, in Spring Branch, Texas. At St. Joseph Catholic Church – Honey Creek Cemetery, founded in the 1800s. They found what Nicholas now calls “The Forgotten” Veterans’ headstones covered in filth and swarming with fire ants. Some were illegible. others had sunken below the ground, disappearing into time. Sadly, some did not have a government marker at all.
Nicholas turned to his dad and said, “We can’t leave them like this. They deserve better.”
With the help of the Knights of Columbus, the father and son received permission to clean and restore veterans’ graves. They taught themselves everything—from proper restoration techniques to applicable government regulations—drawing guidance from the National Cemetery Administration, the National Park Service, the Texas Veterans Land Board, which manages the state veterans’ cemeteries, and local monument experts.
But each stone uncovered a new problem.
Some veterans buried in community cemeteries had never received government-issued markers. Many families didn’t even know they were eligible. What started as one restoration turned into full-blown investigative research. St. Joseph Cemetery had recognized 56 veterans. After months of research, Nicholas and his father identified nearly 100.
Along the way, something remarkable happened. Widows came forward. Children asked questions. Local families—who hadn’t visited a grave in years—were drawn to the sight of a young boy gently scrubbing the gravestone of a man he’d never met. Nicholas offered help to everyone, never expecting anything in return.
His dad, watching this grow beyond them, sat Nicholas down. “Son,” he said, “this is bigger than us. We can’t fix the millions of veteran’s graves being neglected”
Nicholas didn’t flinch.
“One veteran at a time, Dad. That’s all we have to do. Others will help. Just have faith.”
And they did.
Moved by his words, his dad enlisted the help of local veterans and Nicholas’s Mixed Martial Arts coach to form the Warriors Remembrance Foundation, inc. now doing business as the Warriors Remembrance & Research Foundation —an all-volunteer nonprofit with a simple philosophy: every veteran who served honorably deserves to be remembered.
In just under two years, what began as a family project has grown into a rising community movement. Today, the Foundation cares for more than 1,000 veterans across 14 cemeteries in nine Texas counties—many of them rural or long forgotten. The mission has expanded beyond preservation; it is now about truth, healing, and legacy.
Nicholas has helped build:
A Death & Burial Benefits Assistance Program to help families file for VA headstones and allowances for loved ones buried in community cemeteries.
A Genealogy Division that researches and verifies veterans in community cemeteries—because countless names have been lost in the shuffle of history.
The Veterans of Texas Legacy Project, a growing archive of veterans buried in non-government cemeteries across the state.
Warrior Wednesday, a community initiative asking Americans to wear military green each Wednesday in silent remembrance of our fallen and their families.
The Coin-A-Veteran Project, where youth hand-deliver coins to living veterans across the county as a simple, powerful act of gratitude.
Now 11 years old, Nicholas is stepping into a new role: advocate. He’s calling on state and federal leaders to level the playing field—so veterans buried in community cemeteries receive the same care and honor as those interred in national and state cemeteries. The gap is wide. The silence around it, even wider.
Nicholas is trying to close both.
And he’s doing it the way he always has—one name, one grave, one family at a time.
His hands are still small. His voice still young. But what he’s building is not.
It’s not just about remembering the dead. It’s about reminding the living what it means to serve, to honor, and to never forget those who gave everything—especially when no one else is looking.
This is how a movement begins.
Not with a law. Not with a hashtag.
With a boy, a forgotten veteran, and a question America needs to ask itself:
“Don’t our Veterans deserve to be remembered, regardless of where they are buried”
