Dan Notch Signs

09/08/2026

Hope everyone had a safe Labor Day. We celebrated a birthday in the family. Stayed off the roads. Cleaned the shop. Now back to work. Have a safe week. Old sign. My helper is now 46. Everything was hand painted back then. No computers.

09/08/2026

08/21/2026

New deck is up thanks to Qualis Construction 

08/07/2026

They do great work

We don’t just work on food trucks or work trucks. At Jack of All Trades by George, if it has wheels, we can transform it. From trailers and RVs to boats, ATVs, specialty vehicles, and fully custom builds, our focus is bringing ideas to life no matter what you roll in with.

Big, small, simple, or complex, every project gets the same level of detail, creativity, and craftsmanship. If it moves, we can make it stand out!

08/07/2026

Good Morning. All you great people. Try to stay cool. Will be working outside so plenty of water and gatorade New house// shop needs some fixing up 🤷‍♀️. New deck on the horizon. Have an awesome day
For all your sign needs. Give us a call

Cat has to move need the trailer 😊

06/25/2026

Seven years ago we did a sign It lasted through wind, snow and Helene. Time for a new one. Thank you Grandfather Campground for the opportunity and faith again

06/11/2026

She was 22 years old when they sent her to war.
Patricia Ann Ehline had just earned her nursing license when the U.S. Army deployed her to Vietnam in 1968 — the bloodiest year of the entire conflict. Nearly 17,000 Americans would die that year. Patti would be there for all of it.
At Lai Khê, helicopters never stopped coming.
Day and night, they descended from the sky carrying broken young men — boys who had been in high school just months before. Patti stood at the landing zones and made decisions in seconds: who could be saved, who could not. She performed amputations. She held hands. She whispered reassurances into the ears of soldiers slipping toward unconsciousness.
“I’ll take good care of you.”
She said it thousands of times. She meant it every single time.
The shifts were supposed to be twelve hours. They stretched to twenty-four. When mortar alarms screamed across the base, Patti ran for the bunkers and sat in the dark, listening to explosions and wondering if the next one would find her.
She lost people she knew, too.
A fellow nurse named Sharon Lane — someone Patti had briefly known — was killed when a rocket struck her hospital. She became the only American servicewoman killed by direct enemy fire in the entire war. Patti had left just a week before.
There was also a ten-year-old Vietnamese boy named Mai Van Bo, paralyzed from the waist down, who spent months in Patti’s care. The day he had to return to his village, his mother wept. Patti wept too.
“It was the only day I cried in Vietnam,” she later said. “I feared he wouldn’t survive.”
When Patti came home in 1970, carrying three service medals, the country barely looked up.
No parades. No recognition. Just the slow, quiet work of carrying everything she had seen. The sleepless nights. The sounds that weren’t there. The faces that were.
What we now call PTSD had no name yet. So veterans like Patti simply carried it — invisibly, privately, and alone.
She didn’t break. She became an advocate — speaking publicly, working with veterans’ organizations, helping families understand the wounds that don’t show up on X-rays.
Then, years later, at a veterans’ event, a man approached her quietly.
He looked at her for a long moment.
“You were my nurse in Vietnam,” he said. “You took off my leg.”
Patti studied his face. There had been so many. Too many. The years and the faces had blurred together the way they do when you’ve seen too much.
But he remembered her. Because in the moment when everything went dark, her voice had been the last thing he heard.
“When you’re dying,” he told her softly, “you remember the last person you heard.”
During the Vietnam War, roughly 11,000 American military women served overseas. Nearly 90 percent of them were nurses. Most came home to silence.
But somewhere in America, there are men who grew old, held grandchildren, and watched sunsets — because a young woman stood in the middle of chaos and refused to give up on them.
Patti Ehline made a promise thousands of times.
She kept every single one.
Share this if you believe every veteran — seen or unseen — deserves to be remembered.

06/11/2026

Dan Notch Signs has been busy. So much for semi retirement
Sign for RPD. Real Gold Leaf

06/10/2026

Just finished a badge for the NC State Capitol Police. Eagle was hand carved by Dan.