My freshman year of high school, I met my best friend, Kevin Jones. During our high school years, we were nearly inseparable. We spent countless days together rock climbing, hiking, fishing, bowling late into the night, and just doing life side by side. If one of us was somewhere, chances were the other was right there too.

After high school, Kevin moved to Texas in hopes of building a better relationship with his father and beginning a new chapter in life. Even with the distance, we stayed in touch throughout the summer. That fall, I began my college career at the University of Arkansas.
 

On the evening of September 22, 2014, Kevin and I spent three hours on FaceTime catching up on everything we had missed. He told me he had moved back to Fayetteville, Arkansas, and was staying with friends. We made plans to see each other that weekend and talked like no time had passed.
 

The next morning, September 23, 2014, I received a text from Kevin that deeply concerned me. I decided to skip my college classes that day and go be with him. That decision led me to witness, firsthand, Kevin’s suicide.

That moment changed my life forever.
 

Although I am still healing from that trauma, one thing has stayed with me every single day: Kevin was fighting battles that were bigger than anyone around him realized, and he did not feel like he had the help or resources he needed.
 

That is why The Kevin Jones Foundation exists.
 

This foundation was created to honor Kevin’s life by bringing hope, support, and life-saving mental health resources to individuals and families in need. My prayer is that through this foundation, others will find the help, connection, and encouragement that Kevin deserved.

 

Why “The Kevin Jones Foundation”?
 

We could have chosen a name that broadly reflected mental health. Something general. Something safe.
 

But Kevin’s story isn’t general—and it isn’t meant to be forgotten.
 

We chose the name The Kevin Jones Foundation because it keeps his story at the center of everything we do. When someone hears our name and asks, “Who is Kevin Jones?” it opens the door for a real conversation.
 

A conversation about his life.
A conversation about his struggles.
And a conversation about the reality of suicide.
 

By putting a name and a story to it, we hope to make something that can feel distant or uncomfortable more human—more real—and ultimately, easier to talk about.

Because behind every statistic is a person.

And Kevin was that person. We don't want you to be next.