Quinn was almost home when he saw her. A car sat disabled on the shoulder, hood raised. A young woman stood in front of it, shoulders tight. She looked flustered—clearly having a rough day.
Quinn hesitated. Now a grown man—and a Trail Life Freedom Award recipient who had aged out of the program years earlier—he carried convictions formed long before this moment. He was driving home after church, looking forward to lunch at his parents’ house and some much-needed rest. After long 10-to-7 workdays and a packed weekly rhythm—Bible study one night, volunteering with Trail Life another, college ministry, life group—this afternoon felt like a rare margin.
But something inside Quinn told him to stop. Another part of him (probably his stomach, ready for Sunday lunch) argued back. She was probably just fine. Help was already coming. She probably didn’t want some strange man pulling over and approaching her anyway. Might as well just keep rolling.
Quinn was rapidly approaching the point of no return. If he was going to stop, he needed to do it now. Reflexively, in spite of the inconvenience, Quinn pulled over.
“I just knew I couldn’t drive by her without offering to help,” Quinn recalls. “It turns out her alternator wasn’t working. She was in town for the holidays all the way from California, and her car had died on the way to her uncle’s house. “I told her, ‘Hey, I’ve got jumper cables—I’ll jump you.’”
Quinn got to work and asked how much farther she had to go. “About 15 miles,” she replied. Quinn knew she might not make it, so he offered to follow her to her uncle’s house, just to see her through. Five minutes down the road, it died again.
“We pulled over again and I tried to jump it, but it wouldn't start,” Quinn says. “It was then I realized we might be here awhile.” Quinn shot his dad a quick text, letting him know he had stopped to help someone broken down on the way and was going to be a bit late.
Quinn’s father, Clint, saw the text and just smiled. Classic Quinn. “If Quinn sees someone broken down, he stops. All the time,” Clint says, “he ends up towing somebody, bringing them gas, something like that. All the time he says he’s going to miss something or be late because he’s out there helping somebody and witnessing to them in the process. Just by his demeanor, through conversation, not shoving the Bible down anyone’s throat. That’s just the kind of guy Quinn is.”
The Forge of Conviction
Clearly, Quinn is a man of conviction. But those kinds of men don’t come ready made. They are shaped—early, intentionally, and over time.
“From a very early age, we could tell Quinn was different,” Clint recalls. “Ever since he was young, Quinn was very aware of mortality—that life is a vapor.” Clint’s career in the military and law enforcement exposed Quinn to hard realities early. Close calls. Dangerous situations. The fragility of life.
That awareness didn’t produce fear—it produced attentiveness and maturity.
“I always prayed, ‘God, make him different. I give him up to You,’” Clint says. “And from a young age, you could just see a certain maturity, that the Holy Spirit was working in him.
Formation Through Discipline and Brotherhood
When Quinn was 10, he and Clint joined a Trail Life Troop and knew right away they’d found the right fit.
“Our Troop had a lot of retired cops, firefighters, first responders—Air Force, Marines, Navy,” Quinn says. “So discipline, skills, teamwork—we took all of it seriously. They taught us that we may need these things later in life.”
Skills weren’t taught as abstractions. “Our leaders instilled discipline in us, shared their real world examples. One leader shared about when he was over in Iraq and had to figure out how to get his platoon somewhere, under fire, with only a compass to navigate.”
“They trained us to apply things to life,” Quinn says. “Now when I’m at work, I approach it the same way.”
He watched boys come into the Troop withdrawn, careless, or drifting—and leave changed.
“That leadership from men, instilled in boy leaders—that’s one of the coolest things,” he says. “If I could pinpoint one thing I love about my Troop, it’d probably be that: how we instilled discipline in young men.”
Experiencing God’s Creation
But Quinn’s experience in Trail Life was not just all about training and discipline. His Troop embarked on some epic outdoor adventures, providing opportunities for Quinn to develop deep friendships, practice the skills he’d learned in weekly meetings, lead, and meet God out in His creation.
“When I was about 11 or 12, we went on a 50-mile hike in the Rocky Mountains,” Quinn remembers. “I was carrying half my weight in a pack, hiking ten miles a day. It was hard—but it was amazing.”
His father was there with him. One evening, they stopped at a lake at sunset. Moose moved in the distance, the mountains rising magnificently behind the shimmering lake.
“Just then, it hit me—this is what I imagine heaven will be like,” Quinn recalls. He shared that reflection with his dad and we talked about that for a while.
On the way back to camp, his dad pulled him aside and said: “Remember this day, Quinn. Remember what you learned about who God is and what He made.”
Later that trip, Quinn and a dozen other boys slept outdoors under a sky lit by the Milky Way.
“That trip set the precedent for everything that came after,” Quinn says.
Journey to Freedom
Quinn and his friends went on many other adventures, including a 7-day canoe and backpacking trek in the rugged Boundary Waters of Minnesota, surviving off of fish they caught as they hopped from lake to lake. However, Quinn said his biggest challenge in Trail Life came on his journey to Freedom, Trail Life’s highest award.
“They told me it would be hard," Quinn said. “At first I didn’t believe them, but I found out it’s not an easy thing. You gotta put in the work. There were times where I was just like ‘man, this is tough! I’m never going to get all this done.” But I could, and it pushed me to aim high and really push myself.”
“One of the toughest things was the project. Especially the tail-end. Planning, fundraising, and getting approvals is hard, to be sure. But the hardest part is the follow-up. You kind of have this sense of being done. But then you realize, hold on buddy, you’ve still got a lot to do. That takes some real grit and resolve.”
Growing in Confidence, Growing in Character
Like many boys, Quinn needed a catalyst to pull the strength and confidence out of him that he didn’t know he had. He was naturally introverted, preferring roles that stayed behind the scenes. But his Troop rotated leadership intentionally, encouraging boys to stretch themselves.
“When I got into leadership, I realized I had no idea what I was doing,” he admits. “I didn’t want to take risks or be embarrassed.”
But leadership required both.
“That experience helps me at work now,” he says. “Don’t stand back. Don’t be a background character. Step up. Pick up the slack.”
Conviction Rooted in Faith
Faith was never treated as an accessory. One of Quinn’s adult Trail Life leaders, Darren, remembers teaching the Romans Road, one step at a time.
“Every time I’d ask about the next step, Quinn had the answer,” Darren says. “He just got it.”
Clint saw the same thing.
“He understood the Gospel completely,” he says. “He still had hurdles—like any teenager—but it was obvious the truth was taking root.”
And those roots are exactly the thing that grows men of conviction who use their gifts and strength to bless others, to lead, and to protect.
Back on the Shoulder of the Road
Which brings us back to the story at the beginning of this article: the one about Quinn pulling over to help that girl with the broken-down car.
Eventually, the car battery charged enough to get the young woman to her uncle’s house. She offered to pay Quinn. He declined. He told her he hoped someone would do the same for him.
She paused, and then gave him a hug. “It’s people like you that give me hope for humanity,” she said.
Quinn offered to pray for her. Later, he reflected on the moment, “Did I help that girl—or did I just fix a car?” I think of it as planting seeds.”
That’s how Quinn lives his faith—through everyday obedience.
“They’re already having a horrible day,” he says. “If I can bring a little light into it, or help fix the problem, it’s worth it.”
The Kind of Men a Nation Needs
Quinn is not extraordinary because he stopped. He is extraordinary because long before that moment—through family, faith, discipline, and brotherhood—he was formed into the kind of man that is directed by faith and conviction, in little things and in important things.
America’s founders revealed their convictions when history pressed them. Earlier this month, we shared the story of Christopher Gadsden and the remarkable conviction he displayed. You can read that article here.
Young men like Quinn are evidence that men with that kind of conviction are not a thing of the past. In Trail Life Troops across the country, boys are being molded into men like Quinn, men with unwavering conviction and a heart to serve God and people made in His image.
As we look back on our nation’s first 250 years, we have much to be thankful for. But we believe the next 250 years can be even greater. And if the next 250 years are to be marked by freedom and flourishing, it will be because boys are formed early into men who choose what is right when it costs them something they would rather keep.
That is the work Trail Life USA is doing—quietly, faithfully, and with intention. And sometimes, it simply looks like a young man pulling over to help someone on the side of the road.
Find a Troop near you or Learn how to bring Trail Life to your community at TrailLifeUSA.com