Passing the Hat at 10,000 Feet: Why Is REMSA Asking You to Help Buy Their Helicopter?

REMSA, the Regional Emergency Medical Services Authority, wants your help buying a new helicopter for rural Nevada. The plan is simple: raise funds to match a donation, William N. Pennington Foundation has pledged a $3.25 million matching gift to support the purchase of a helicopter for Care Flight, a service of REMSA Health - they get the shiny new bird, and then — here’s the twist — hand off their current helicopter to the Washoe County Sheriff’s Department.

Sounds generous, right? Until you follow the rotor blades of logic.

Once the Sheriff’s Office gets that “free” helicopter, taxpayers will be footing the bill for upkeep, maintenance, and operations. In other words:

• Step 1: You donate to help REMSA buy a new helicopter.

• Step 2: They give the old one to the Sheriff’s Department.

• Step 3: You pay again — through your county taxes — to keep that old helicopter in the air.

That’s like chipping in to buy your neighbor a new car, then also paying for the gas and insurance on the one they just gave away.

This might make sense if REMSA were strapped for cash. But they’re not exactly flying on fumes.

Publicly available estimates put their annual revenue between $61 million (per their official FY 2023 financial statements) and $135 million (depending on the source). Even the conservative number comes with some telling details:

• 91% to 98% of REMSA’s revenue comes from program services — i.e., the fees they bill patients, members, and contracts.

• Revenue per employee? Around $337,500, according to Growjo.

• One source estimated $78.3 million in 2024.

And let’s not forget: if a REMSA ambulance comes to your house, you’ll get that bill faster than you can say “airlift.”

Down the line, if residents are going to help fund a helicopter that REMSA will later give away, could they deduct that “donation” like they do with other charitable contributions? And when the county starts paying to keep the gifted helicopter operational, can taxpayers subtract that from what they gave?

Of course not. But the optics sure make it feel like a double-dip — and not the good kind you get at an ice cream shop.

This is part of a broader trend where organizations with strong revenue streams — often from public-facing, essential services — turn around and ask the very people they bill to chip in “extra” for capital purchases. Meanwhile, the hand-me-downs become taxpayer liabilities.

It’s philanthropy in reverse: the public gives, and then keeps giving.