Ed McClelland Hits The Road Offering Healing To Families Affected By Military Suicide

In 2009, Ed McClelland was ready to find God again. 

A fight against alcoholism, a divorce, and conviction of sin broke him in just the right places, all serving as a beckoning to look for new life at the feet of his Maker. He was three years sober when a friend extended an invitation to return to church, and McClelland eagerly accepted.  

A year later, McClelland began a winding trek on an entirely new road. 

Hear how God used Ed McClelland's story of redemption to open doors to a life of impact in our full conversation:

“God puts things in front of you, and he doesn’t do that to distract you,” McClelland said of the change. “He does that to get you focused on what you need to be doing.” 

The former carpenter’s new direction was one of service, particularly to military service members, veterans, and their families.  

Operation Creekside, named after the church McClelland had been invited to and now attended, was born out of his newfound mission, a community effort to encourage and help those serving in the armed forces by sending them physical care packages. 

Over the last 15 years, McClelland estimates that Operation Creekside has sent nearly 25,000 “care packs” to those protecting the country. 

“There’s a lot of history with military service in the family, and even though I’m a civilian, I just was overcome with gratitude for that,” McClelland explained. “I mean, I was a raging alcoholic. I had to find something to do at that same level, believe it or not.”  

But the evolution was far from easy. The Californian describes learning hard lessons in the early days of the organization. After the first 35 care packages were sent out and no response came back, McClelland was ready to quit. 

“I was looking for that pat on the back. A postmaster in Knightsen, California, said to me, ‘You keep sending the care packs. It’s not about you.’ I’ll never forget that,” McClelland said. 

“I think I was serving to fill that void. God came into the picture and he was guiding me and having people like that. I learned early on that it’s not about me, it’s about serving. It’s about being obedient.” 

Soon after that conversation, responses began to roll in. Thank you messages like that of a mother of four who was serving in the Air Force showed McClelland that an impact was indeed being made.  

In 2013, McClelland’s eyes were opened to another need.  

While serving struggling veterans at a Joni and Friends Warrior Getaway, he met Keri Jacobs, co-founder of 22 Too Many, a nonprofit that serves families affected by military suicide. Their conversation, along with a pair of servicemen McClelland sent care packages to dying by suicide, sparked an expansion of the mission.

McClelland began pairing his care package service with home visits with 22 Too Many families on cross-country road trips from California to Maryland.  

“Honestly, I was terrified,” McClelland recalls of the first visits. “What do you do when you show up to somebody’s house that you don’t know and you know that they’ve lost a military loved one to suicide?” 

McClelland, who also serves as a civilian chaplain, learned again that it wasn’t about him. He discovered the value of being a listening ear to those bearing the weight of grief, simply stepping into the lives of those struggling.  

Some of the 70-some-odd conversations have been brief, others have stretched to 6 hours or more. All of them have made an impact.  

“It’s amazing what they will tell you,” McClelland said. “Some of them will actually tell you everything about what happened to their loved one. It’s such an insightful thing to go visit with them.” 

New conversations meant new ideas, resulting in a new project for Operation Creekside: memorial benches.  

McClelland, along with his East Coast partner Joe Goetz, works with military families to create custom benches that honor and remember the loved ones they lost to suicide. The pair have now delivered dozens of benches with more on the way in 2026.  

Each months-long process of designing, building, and delivering the memorials allows Operation Creekside to cultivate meaningful relationships with those that desperately need them. Some are harder than others, but each one opens the door to healing and hope. 

“Oftentimes with these families, if you can get through the first part of the visit, there’ll be some joy,” McClelland said. “There’ll be some great stories about their loved one. You can see joy.” 

In those conversations, in the homes carrying deep scars of visceral loss, McClelland says the promise of the Gospel often speaks loudly.   

“You can basically offer them the same hope that you have,” McClelland said. “I mean, I have hope in Christ – it doesn’t matter to us. We delivered a bench this year to a family that’s absolutely atheist... And it worked out beautifully. My hope is that more people will at least see where our hope is and say, ‘I want that for myself.’” 

As McClelland and his team rack up hundreds of thousands of miles serving others with the hope that they find healing, he can’t help but be reminded of his own redemption.  

“Every once in a while, we’ll get a police escort to where we’re delivering,” McClelland explained. “When the cops are out front and the motorcycles are in front of me, it’s just beautiful. And I think back to me as an alcoholic a long time ago, the cops usually weren’t in front of me. The cops were behind me. 

“It’s so beautiful to see the redemption that God gives somebody that decides he’s going to be obedient to his calling. I’m the one that gets blessed – that’s the funny part about this whole thing.” 

To learn more about Operation Creekside or to get involved, click here.