Ryan Manion’s younger brother died a hero in Iraq, but she says she understood he was extraordinary long before the world learned his name.
“The lessons he taught me growing up were some of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned,” Manion, 46, says. “He was always looking for ways where he could be part of something bigger than himself.”
Even as teenagers, she recalls, Travis had a way of making service feel natural. He’d talk her into joining him to pick up trash, donate clothes, or do small acts of kindness for their parents. Years later, those habits still follow her.
“I’ll run past a piece of trash and have to turn around and go back because I hear Travis in my head saying don’t leave that piece of trash,” Manion says. “So I’ll run another five miles with a dirty Dunkin’ Donuts coffee cup.”
But the biggest act of service would also be the one that cost him his life.
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():focal(749x0:751x2):format(webp)/things-my-brother-used-to-say-121025-1-2b8782a7a1cd4c40832d3b119043b3a2.jpg)
On April 29, 2007, Marine Corps 1st Lt. Travis Manion, 26, was on patrol in Fallujah with fellow Marines and Iraqi Army counterparts when they were ambushed. Manion launched a counterattack to draw fire away from the wounded. Everyone in the patrol survived — except him. He was killed by an enemy sniper.
For his actions, he was awarded the Silver Star and the Bronze Star with Valor. Earlier this year, the Secretary of the Navy announced that a future ship will be named the USS Travis Manion.
“I grew up understanding what service meant watching my dad, who served for 30 years,” Manion says. “But I didn’t fully understand what sacrifice meant. That was a big lesson for me.”
Manion now carries those lessons into her work with young people, drawing from the examples her brother set — the small, everyday choices as much as the historic ones.
Those ideas became the backbone of a children’s book, Things My Brother Used to Say, with proceeds benefiting the Travis Manion Foundation, a nonprofit focused on military-centered community service.
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():focal(829x371:831x373):format(webp)/Tom-Travis-Ryan-Janet-Manion-120925-85eaabdb7a8248fab244c8f9fd689937.jpg)
“I recognized very early on that my brother was very compassionate and that he was always looking out for others,” she says. “And as an adult, you look back and realize that isn’t necessarily common. That’s not always the norm for kids who are trying to fit in.”
Travis was just 15 months younger than his sister, and their bond was strengthened by a childhood defined by constant moving. As the children of a Marine Corps colonel, they relocated 13 times in her first 11 years.
“As a result, we were exceptionally close because we were always showing up in new places, new states, new environments,” Manion says. “At least I knew I had him. As challenging as it was, I knew I had my built-in best friend.”
The book also highlights friendships that shaped Travis — and the people he shaped in return.
As kids, Travis became close with a classmate named Sam who was often excluded by others. After Travis died, the family received a letter from Sam describing how much he struggled in school, and how much it meant to have someone consistently stand by him.
“We just thought it was this quirky friendship,” Manion says, “not recognizing what the impact that friendship had on Sam growing up. Travis made sure no one felt left out.”
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():focal(731x295:733x297):format(webp)/Ryan-Travis-Manion-120925-18b77a7577c444ec8fc118191a45badd.jpg)
Later, when Travis entered the United States Naval Academy in 2004, he met Brendon Looney, who became his best friend. In the book, Manion uses their relationship to show the value of surrounding yourself with people who challenge you, push you forward, and help you become your best.
Not long before Travis deployed, he attended a Philadelphia Eagles game with friends. In a lighthearted moment, they joked that he shouldn’t go — that he should stay home with them instead. Travis didn’t argue for long. He simply gave them five words that would become a guiding principle for everything his family built after his death:
“If not me, then who?”
“Those five words put our organization in motion,” Manion says. “I remember my dad saying those were his words and we have to live by them now. And we’ve been trying to do that every day since he passed — and to inspire others to do the same.”