Meet our team which is only me, for now ;-)
I'm Darren Ullmann and I spent 25 years in a uniform—five years in the U.S. Army, including combat in the Gulf War, followed by 20 years with my local Sheriff’s Office. I retired in 2021 as the Undersheriff. Over those years, I witnessed the full spectrum of human suffering—trauma, grief, abuse, neglect, and death. In law enforcement, you experience people’s worst days over and over again, and that kind of exposure takes a toll. You build defense mechanisms—hypervigilance, bravado, even unhealthy coping mechanisms—that can be hard to break.
In April 2019, while I was Undersheriff, one of our young deputies was murdered in an ambush. He was like a son to me—he’d grown up with my own kids, and I had recruited him to our agency. His death shattered me, our department, and our entire community. (Here’s a video of me speaking at his memorial.) After that, nothing was ever the same.
Not long after, and knowing my situation, I was asked by the Executive Director of the Behind the Badge Foundation to participate in some training where I would speak to law enforcement leaders across Washington State. I shared how the loss devastated me, how I failed to process it properly, and how it impacted my agency. I also talked about lessons learned and how they could prepare for such a tragedy. While my presentations were well received, they took a serious toll on me. I had to relive that trauma over and over, and instead of helping me heal, it broke me down.
One of the takeaways from that experience was understanding just how deeply ingrained the "tough guy" culture is in law enforcement and the military. These men and women endure PTSD, depression, and anxiety in silence because admitting struggle feels like weakness. They feel they have to be strong, vigilant, and unshakable at all times.
That’s where SWIFT comes in. My goal was to create a space where first responders and military veterans can find healing and joy through birdwatching—a place where they can drop their guard, be in the moment, and rediscover a sense of peace and camaraderie. It’s about breaking through that hardened exterior and offering something that genuinely helps.
When I retired from the Sheriff’s Office at 54, I was mentally broken after 25 years of dealing with human misery. I knew I was struggling, but I didn’t realize just how bad it was. On the surface, I had reached the pinnacle of my career—I was in command, making more money than ever, and by all accounts, things should have been great. But every day was a battle.
After retiring, I went to the VA for medical insurance—I had just lost mine and simply needed to refill my prescriptions. But during that process, the doctors quickly recognized the signs of PTSD. Before I even got my meds, I was sitting in a psychiatrist’s office planning out therapy. For the next year and a half, I didn’t work. I focused on therapy while continuing to volunteer with the Behind the Badge Foundation. I wanted the therapy to “fix” me, but while it helped me understand my condition, it didn’t make it go away.
Then, in January 2023, I was recruited to serve as the Executive Director of the Humane Society of Cowlitz County. I thought going back to work—especially for a cause I cared about—would help me move forward. Boy, was I wrong. Running an animal shelter turned out to be incredibly stressful, and after a year, I dreaded going to work.
At the same time, I was dealing with a knee injury from a photography outing. When they scheduled me for surgery, a routine blood draw two weeks prior revealed something I never expected—Leukemia. Suddenly, I was not only recovering from knee replacement surgery but also facing a new Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia (CLL) diagnosis. It was too much. I knew something had to give, so I spent the next year brokering a merger between my Humane Society and a larger organization to ensure a smooth transition before I stepped away.
Through all of this, my coping mechanism was birdwatching—I just didn’t realize it at the time.
After leaving the military, I pursued my dream of becoming a Wildlife Biologist, studying in college while working seasonal jobs. In the winters, I manned a goose hunter check station for the Department of Fish and Wildlife, and in the summers, I worked as a Northern Spotted Owl surveyor for the Department of Natural Resources. This is when I began my photography hobby. I loved the work, but job opportunities for biologists were scarce at the time, and with a young family and a mortgage, I had to make a tough choice—I left school to take a steady job.
Even with my background, I never saw myself as a birder. Or maybe I just wouldn’t admit it. In the tough-guy culture I was part of, birding didn’t seem “cool” or “strong” enough. That mindset stuck with me for years.
Then, while working for the Humane Society, I found myself spending more and more of my free time at Ridgefield Wildlife Refuge (amongst other locations), photographing birds. It became my escape. One morning, as I was driving to work, the stress hit me like a wall. Instead of taking the exit to my office, I just kept driving. I called in and said I wouldn’t be coming in that day. Instead, I went straight to the refuge and spent hours chasing birds with my camera.
Something clicked that day. My mind cleared completely. The overwhelming stress was gone, replaced by a sense of peace. I called my wife to tell her about the moment because I realized then—birdwatching wasn’t just a hobby. It was therapy. The simple act of walking through the woods, focusing only on what I was hearing, seeing, smelling, and feeling, was healing me in ways I hadn’t expected.
As my time at the Humane Society was coming to an end, I knew I wanted to do something different—something I truly loved. That’s when I discovered Wild Birds Unlimited and fell in love with the concept. As I got deeper into the bird feeding and birdwatching world, I was introduced to Holly Merker and the Mindful Birding Network, and everything came full circle. I realized that all this time, birdwatching had been my therapy. I wanted to share that discovery with others—especially those in the first responder and military communities—so I started SWIFT to help others find the same healing that I had. I hope this helps you. - Darren