[Congressional Record Volume 172, Number 22 (Friday, January 30, 2026)]
[Senate]
[Pages S417-S418]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
REMEMBERING DAN CAUDILL
Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, I rise today to pay tribute to a true
patriot, proud American, and good friend of mine, Sanford ``Dan''
Caudill. Sadly, Dan passed away on December 17 of last year after a
private battle with cancer. His passing continues to weigh heavily on
his family and friends. I was honored to have had the opportunity to
personally express my condolences to the family and to celebrate his
life during his visitation. Today, I would like to take a moment to
recognize Dan. He never asked for any praise nor did he want it, but he
constantly lived his life through his faith, always making outstanding
efforts to improve the lives of others.
Dan was an incredible businessman. He spent 45 years running his
family business, Caudill Seed Company, and built it from a small
agricultural supply company into North America's largest supplier of
seeds and beans. Dan's work allowed him to connect with people across
the country and around the globe, developing impactful relationships
and working to make a difference in the agriculture industry. Between
his business locations in Louisville and Winchester, he became known as
a trusted partner in business in Kentucky and around the world. While
he was a true believer in capitalism and a titan of his industry, he
was most well known for his work helping those in need.
Always willing to lend a hand and help others, Dan involved himself
heavily in the philanthropic efforts of several organizations dedicated
to giving people a second chance. He was a true believer in community
and how it could shape the lives of those affected by substance abuse,
homelessness, and criminal backgrounds who were just trying to get back
up on their feet. Through it all, Dan made those around him feel loved
and supported.
Without hesitation, Caudill Seed readily focused its attention on
providing job opportunities to those in need. Dan was a steadfast ally
to people facing significant obstacles to finding gainful employment.
In addition to his company, his philanthropic work with the Healing
Place, the Ice House, and the Volunteers of America have helped
countless people continue in their recovery journey and find affordable
housing.
This spring, the Volunteers of America plan to open an affordable
housing project in Louisville called Monarch Station. Dan was the one
who donated the land for this project. Where did the idea come from? It
started when Dan invited a few homeless guys to have coffee with him to
learn their stories. Inspiration took root. All it took was Dan's
compassion to open a door and get to know a few guys over some coffee.
This is the kind of person Dan was, a real change maker who always
looked to hope instead of despair and who always looked for the next
tangible way
[[Page S418]]
to make someone's life a little bit better. No one knew this more than
his family. He was a loving husband to his wife Andrea and a devoted
father to his three children: Cassandra, Corey, and Connor. Dan was a
wonderful grandfather to his granddaughters Adalie and Aliya and
beloved by his entire family.
Jennifer Hancock is the CEO of the Volunteers of America Mid-States,
and she gave a beautiful speech at Dan's funeral. I ask unanimous
consent that her remarks below be printed in the Record. Much like
Jennifer, I treasure the friendship Dan and I built, and I am forever
grateful for his life of faith and servitude. I ask my colleagues to
please join me in honoring Dan and thinking of his family during this
time.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
Remarks for the Funeral of Dan Caudill
(Prepared by Jennifer Hancock, President & CEO, Volunteers of America
Mid-States)
Good afternoon everyone, I am honored to be able to share
the impact that Dan had on me and those we serve at
Volunteers of America.
Today we gather to remember and celebrate a man who changed
lives--quietly, persistently, and always with love--our
friend, mentor, and champion, Dan Caudill. Dan was one of the
people and always for the people. That is how I will remember
him--how so many of us will remember him--because his life
was rooted in service to neighbors, to people seeking
recovery, and to those who had no one else in their corner.
Dan's heart beat for the recovery community. He believed in
second chances, in dignity, and in the power of compassion to
restore what addiction and hardship often steal. He was
incredibly generou--yes--and he was far more than a donor. He
was a partner in our mission: always sending articles about
the drug crisis, calling just to check on me and our VOA
programs, and reassuring us when the work was heavy. He
wanted to know not just if we were succeeding--but that
people were healing.
Anyone who knew Dan knows this: he did not want a
spotlight.
He was humble in all that he did. In 2023, when we honored
him with the Ballington and Maud Booth Award at VOA's
National Conference--one of the highest recognitions in our
movement--he didn't want the fuss. Our affiliate had never
hosted the national conference--it was a big deal and as part
of it we got to select one person in our four state region to
receive this highest honor. It was obvious and immediate that
it would be Dan. But I worried he would decline and I knew I
would have to twist his arm. So I took him to lunch and
literally had to beg him to accept it. I told him that I
wanted to profile someone that lived his faith and principles
more than talked about them. He finally relented and said,
`okay if it helps the mission, I'll do it.' That was Dan--
uncomfortable with personal praise, but fiercely committed to
the cause.
Dan's generosity flowed to the places where lives were
being rebuilt: the Ice House, The Healing Place, and VOA. He
knew that recovery requires community--spaces that show
people they matter, programs that walk with them through the
hardest days, and neighbors who refuse to give up.
I've known Dan nearly all of my 19 years at VOA. Ten years
ago, as I was becoming CEO, I was also welcoming my daughter
into the world. I confided in Dan about her prenatal
challenges and serious medical issues. From that day forward,
every single time we spoke--every time including the last
time just last month--he began or ended by asking, `How is
your daughter doing?' and always called her ``a miracle''.
That is who he was: present, attentive, and unfailingly kind.
His care for my family mirrored the care he had for so many.
And he loved no one more than his own family.
He loved his family fiercely and was so very proud of his
children and grandchildren. He was devoted to Andrea his life
partner, and he found peace with her on their farm.
During COVID, Dan and I had coffee. He was dead set on
finding a solution for the growing street homelessness
crisis. He saw an encampment behind the Ice House and could
not shake what he witnessed. He invited men in for a cup of
coffee--getting to know their names and stories. That coffee
conversation sparked what would become Monarch Station: a
place designed specifically for people who had been living on
our streets--permanent, dignified homes with support. Monarch
Station will be perfectly situated right between VOA's Shelby
Street Clinical Campus and the Ice House. And it will soon
exist only because Dan donated the land to VOA, believing we
could build something worthy of our neighbors. Last month
when we talked I told Dan we could not have a ribbon cutting
and open our doors in the Spring to the homeless people he
envisioned us to serve without him. My faith tells me he will
not let us down; he will be there. And we will feel him with
us--every time a key turns in a new front door, every time a
neighbor sleeps safely inside, every time hope replaces
survival.
Because of Dan, thousands of people have already found a
path to recovery. And thousands more will--each with a story
now pointed toward hope. Some will never know his name, but
they will feel the warmth of a safe home, the embrace of a
community, and the dignity of being seen. That was Dan's way:
for the people--and always with the people.
To Andrea, to his children and grandchildren: thank you for
sharing Dan with us. We are with you. We loved him, and we
will carry his legacy forward with gratitude and resolve. And
to Dan--our dear friend--thank you. You showed us what love
looks like when it becomes action. You taught us that
humility is strength. You made Louisville kinder and better.
Rest in peace. I know you will be with us at Monarch Station.
____________________