Boards are essential to communities because they provide governance, accountability, and strategic direction while making sure organizations stay true to their mission.
They also bring diverse perspectives that lead to better decision-making and help reflect the needs of the broader community.
I’m always struck by how the most effective nonprofits move with clarity and purpose; and without exception, that kind of focus is fueled by a strong, engaged board, often made up of individuals who lead with both intention and impact.
Kerry Anne Schultz Battle is one of those people.
I sat across from Kerry Anne Schultz Battle in the conference room at Ascension Sacred Heart Foundation, thinking I was there to talk about board service, mission statements, and the community impact that she and this Board have on our Pensacola community.
I wanted to know why she volunteered her time, expertise, and resources and why she did it for this Board, when she had so many she could choose from.
And we got there. But not before we took a turn down a much more meaningful road.
Kerry Anne’s story doesn’t begin in Pensacola. It starts in Michigan, where she graduated from law school and clerked for a judge before making her way south. And her first day working at a downtown firm specializing in medical malpractice defense was September 11, 2001.
It was a career beginning marked by history that ended up rooting her in advocacy.
She spent the next eight years defending physicians and hospitals.
Ironically, this was the place that would one day save her life. But Kerry Anne didn’t know that part yet.
At 39, she found herself pregnant, something she describes as both a surprise and a gift. Life was full, including a thriving law practice that afforded her the time to be involved in the community, but also filled her calendar and left little room for stillness.
And then, everything stopped.
On August 22, 2014, during what should have been a routine appointment, her blood pressure soared past 210. Within moments, plans unraveled. She was admitted immediately. The next day, she was supposed to be at her mother-in-law’s funeral in Marianna. Instead, she was in a hospital bed, facing a situation far more serious than she had planned for.
“I have things to do,” she remembered thinking. But, as it so often does, life had other plans.
What followed was a blur of urgency and compassion. Doctors who weren’t on call showed up anyway. Nurses didn’t just treat her, they reassured her. She clearly remembers her care team and how they didn’t care for her as a patient, but as a person.
When her daughter Ella, decided to come into this world six weeks early, she remembers how tiny she was and what a fighter she would need to be. Kerry Anne was fighting, too.
“I am truly convinced,” she told me, “that if I had not been here, at Sacred Heart, I may not have made it through that.”
I felt the weight of her words, and they made us both pause for a moment.
She was describing something I believe everyone needs: to be seen, heard, and loved.
She mentioned more than once that what she received that day went beyond medical care; it was something deeper. Something harder to quantify. She felt seen.
When I asked her what she tells Ella now, who is 11 years old and full of life, she smiled. “Every time we drive by, she says, ‘Mommy, that’s where I was born.’”
And just like that, the story continues. Two generations sharing an understanding that this building holds more than rooms and equipment, it holds meaning for their family.
Back to why I was here.
Kerry Anne didn’t join the Sacred Heart Foundation board out of obligation. In fact, she initially said no.
Like so many of us, she had a full plate: career, motherhood, and volunteer commitments through Rotary that take her to Africa each year. But something kept pulling her back.
I asked if it was a feeling of guilt or pressure. She answered, “Gratitude. When you’ve experienced something like I have, you want everyone else to have access to it too.”
And there it is, her why. As we talked about the mission, charitable care, spiritual grounding, and service to others, Kerry Anne kept coming back to one thing: compassion.
“Yes, hospitals provide care. But not all care feels the same. You can get good medical treatment in a lot of places,” she said. “But are they listening? Are they treating you with respect? Do you feel like you matter?”
At this hospital, Ascension Sacred Heart, she did.
There was a moment in her story that caught me off guard, sharing that she is hearing-impaired. I had not detected it, nor did I notice her hearing aids.
It’s something she has navigated since childhood through speech therapy, surgeries, and wearing hearing aids. She also carries the quiet burden of feeling “different” in a world that doesn’t always understand.
So when Ella was born, Kerry Anne’s first fear wasn’t about herself, it was about her daughter.
Her first thought was, “Please check her. I want to know if she can hear. I didn’t want her to go through what I went through.” The moment came quickly when her pediatrician said, “She’s fine. She can hear.”
Kerry Anne smiled as heard it, with all the relief and gratitude that comes with good news.
Today, she channels that gratitude into action. She’s been on the Sacred Heart Foundation board for nearly eight years and lights up when she talks about what’s been accomplished: the Children’s Hospital, expanded emergency services, and now a growing focus on maternal care.
Because if there’s one thing she knows firsthand, it’s this: where and how a woman gives birth matters. “There’s no better place I wanted to be,” she said. “Everything we needed was under one roof.”
And in 2026, that belief is shaping the future. A deeper investment in women’s health. A commitment to removing barriers. A recognition that healthy moms lead to healthy families, and ultimately, healthier communities.
Before we wrapped, I asked how she explains all of this to friends when asking them to support the foundation.
Why does she give her time and energy? Why does she continue to say yes? Her answer was quick and matter-of-fact: “When you believe in something, and you’ve lived it, it’s easy to tell the story.”
And that’s what this is, really.
A story of a woman who built a career defending hospitals, then found herself inside one, being defended by it.
A mother who faced uncertainty and walked away with both her life and her daughter’s.
A leader who could have said no, but chooses to say yes, year after year.
And because of that, more stories of healing like hers will be written.
