In Memory of Jakob Kindt

In this world, you only meet a handful of people who are truly genuine—people who are in your corner without hesitation, without conditions. For me, one of those people was Jakob Kindt.

My wife and I had been living in Denver, teaching and competing in sitting volleyball with Team USA, until we learned we were expecting our first child. We returned home to Mississippi, and I rejoined the AirCare flight program with the University of Mississippi Medical Center. I was stationed at our AirCare 3 base in Columbus, sharing a rotation with my partner and our relief—one of whom was Jakob.

Early on, Jakob was curious about what I was doing with my education company, MeduPros. Over time—and through his signature persistence—I gave him a small task. Then another. And then another. Within a year, he was my business manager. He banned me from handling customer service or spelling, since, as he put it, I was “awful at both.” His favorite command was to send me to my “nerd corner” and tell me to “crank out content.”

Under Jakob’s leadership, business grew. He impressed everyone he met on the national air medical stage. I once heard someone say, “Charlie, when y’all break up, we’re keeping Jakob.” It wasn’t a joke.

Jakob had big plans—strategic growth, new collaborations, more ways to reach people who wanted to learn. One day he said, “Hey, you good if I reach out to a coffee company? Got an idea.” I told him to run with it. A few days later, he told me FlightLine Coffee wanted to do a collaboration with us. I was pumped. We went back and forth over the name until I made him test it with a focus group. He won by a landslide. The name would be MeduPros Brain Fuel. I can still hear him saying his pitch line: “Grab ya a bag of Brain Fuel.”

Then came March 10, 2025. I was in the MeduPros office—the same one where I’d worked with Jakob just days before—when the calls started coming in. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing. And when I finally understood what had happened, I sent him one last text he’d never read.

End of watch.

About a month later, I reached out to FlightLine Coffee. We needed something positive. Jaren and the FlightLine team stepped up in every possible way. Working with my graphic designer, Aery George, we redesigned the packaging to honor Jakob. The artwork—based on the fuel display of the EC135 we flew—shows a full tank, ready to go to work changing lives. Instead of “MeduPros Brain Fuel,” it became Jakob’s Brain Fuel. And instead of showing “empty,” the gauge reads EOW: End of Watch—a permanent tribute to Jakob and the crew we lost that day.

My hope is that Jakob’s Brain Fuel makes its way onto bases, stations, departments, units, and hospital floors across the country. That it fuels early mornings, long shifts, and late-night charting. That every cup becomes a small reminder of Jakob’s kind of energy—steady, witty, loyal, and quietly motivating.

He pushed people to be their best—through subtle nudges or perfectly timed sarcasm. He could roast you and back you up in the same breath. You always knew he had your six.

Jakob’s Brain Fuel isn’t just coffee—it’s a legacy. A reminder that the right person at the right time can change everything, and that the best fuel for life is found in people who believe in you.

-Charlie Swearingen-