UPDATE: I moved the original intro to below the fold. Here I want to update what happened a few days after I called Rep. Allen Boyd's office. I got a call back from Michael, who told me he was going to contact the veteran I spoke of in this diary and work to get him hooked into services. He said they are aware of the problem with homeless veterans and are working hard to be sure the community is able to better support them.
We talked a bit about the cops running homeless veterans off who are standing with signs asking for work and such, and he agreed with me that this is no way to treat those who have sacrificed so much in service to their country. I asked him to work with Rep. Boyd and the Obama administration to come up with ideas to facilitate individuals like me in the community who want to help but don't know how to.
When we hung up, Michael surprised me by saying he'd call me later, after he'd called the veteran. I got the distinct impression that he had actually listened to me and was going to make it a priority to do something to help. So I'm feeling so much better about this now.
This is more an experience than a diary, but I wanted to share it and see if anyone here had some good suggestions for those of us who feel helpless every time we see someone standing by the road holding a "Homeless Disabled Vet" sign.
First, let me say that I used to work with veterans, many of them homeless, many desperately needing to be on disability but not able to fight the system smartly enough to get it. Hell, I could not fight the system smartly enough to help them get it, and that broke ME down.
That was a decade ago. Much has changed since then within the VA...I fear for the worse. So what did I do when I saw that young veteran standing there with that sign?
He stood so straight-backed and quiet, not bothering anyone, on the concrete island that separated the incoming and outgoing traffic from Costco. I drove past him at first because there were so many cars, but then I came back through the in ramp and parked beside him. I started asking him about where he'd served, what was going on with him, what kind of services he was plugged into, etc.
He told me he was camping out "between Sam's and Publix" and that his disability application was taking "a little longer" than he'd anticipated. He said he used to be a carpenter and could do all kinds of work if I knew anyone who needed help. I gave him ten dollars, all I had, and told him I'd talk to my DH about the possibility of making our spare bedroom available to him for a while, and gave him my phone number. (DH said "no way," of course, and told me I was a fool to give this guy I didn't even know my number. Maybe I am, but I grieve for our veterans.)
I checked with a few people in my neighborhood about the possibility of giving the guy some work, but people are spending more money on food now than keeping things fixed up.
The guy didn't call until several weeks later, and I'd almost forgotten about him. When I realized who it was, I asked him if he'd found a place to stay yet--gearing up to give him the bad news on my end. He said he was staying with this 75-year-old man about an hour and a half outside the city (by that, I think he meant walking distance) in return for taking care of things around the house. I told him I hadn't found anyone who had work for him, and I asked him what he needed right now. He said he was trying to get some kerosene because "it's gonna get cold tonight," and of course I had about two bucks to my name until next week. I asked him if he was hooked in with the Vet Center and VA Clinic, and he said he was; that that's where he'd been today, at the clinic, and he was telling me about the testing he'd had done. I asked him if they'd hooked him up with any kind of social services, and he said he'd seen a psychiatrist. (I'd be willing to bet the psychiatrist wasn't asking him about things like kerosene and staying warm.) Anyway, I started babbling about how terrible I felt that there was nothing I could do to help him right now, and he said "I wasn't calling about that. I wanted to thank you for what you did for me, and this was the first chance I got to call." And then, of course, I felt just terrible that I had been relating to him as if he had called me for a handout.
Then he said he was going over to the Publix to stand out for a while while there was traffic (it was near rush hour) "and hope the cops don't run me off too quick." He said he had two kerosene cans and was going to try to get enough money to fill them before he had to go back to where he was staying. I had this sudden image of this old, old man spending all of his money on meds instead of food or heat, and this vet walking all that way to get kerosene for them as a way of paying his way and doing right. And then I had this image of some bad-ass cop telling this dignified and polite young man who served his country by fighting in Bush-asshole's godforsaken FUBAR Iraq war to "move on" as if he were some piece of garbage that had to be kept out of sight. This was several days ago, and I still can't stop thinking about it.
All I knew to do was call my representative, Allen Boyd, and ask his staff if they could do anything at all to at least get the cops to get off the homeless veterans' backs. Because I know there are more than just this one man. The woman I spoke with at Boyd's office said another guy in the office handled stuff related to veterans but he wasn't there. She got my name and number, and I gave her the name and number of the veteran because I'd thought to ask him if there was a number at the house where he was staying if somebody needed to reach him. She said the guy would call me the next day. I told her it was more important that he call the veteran and get him hooked up with whatever social services were available to help him and to tell Rep. Boyd to DO something in Congress about helping our veterans. I'm hoping that's why the guy didn't call me and not that they just said "Oh, well, what can we do?"
Anyway, this is long, I know, and meandering. But I guess what I want to do is get people thinking about what they can do if they wind up encountering a homeless veteran (or any homeless person for that matter); how to treat them; what is the best thing to do to help them--psychologically if not materially; just what in blazes we can do. I don't know if I did the right things or not, but it's all I could think of at the time.
I feel so helpless about it and, still, so angry, angry, ANGRY at George W. Bush.