I was helping my wife at a craft show yesterday. One thing about crafters, they are a friendly generous bunch. Millennium gypsies, one fellow called them. I struck up a conversation with a crafter with long blond hair spilling out underneath one of those veteran's caps: His was a Navy cap. The first thing he said that struck me was that these craft shows are a pretty accurate indicator of how the economy is going. "It's been a miserable 2-3 years," he said, echoing what I had heard from the others. He had made over a thousand a day at the same fair years back but this weekend he would barely pull in $500 total.
I told him about my
web site - I'm always trying to push the site with vets and soldiers I meet. I know they visit it and I know it helps. Folks have told me so, but I never think it's enough just sitting there- I told him if he knew of any soldier or veteran who was having a tough time getting it together he could send them there, maybe they could find the help they need behind one of the links I collected. "You mean like veterans and such?" he asked.
"Yeah, veterans and returning soldiers," I answered, feeling a little foolish like I always do in front of these folks who serve. "I've seen a lot of people who come back home and have a hard time pulling their lives back together." I said.
I recalled the young friend of my son who had been serving in Germany when Bush decided to go to war, who got shipped from there to Iraq. His mom got sick and died during that time and the Army shipped him home for her funeral and eventually ordered him back to Iraq. He left his 18 year old brother in the small apartment where they had spent a good part of their lives, and the kid just turned wild; drinking and smoking and whatnot. But, the young soldier had to leave him there, hoping the kid could fend for himself. A short time later, the soldier had an accident over there and banged up both arms. He spent some time in a hospital before they shipped him back home with a medical discharge. Three years of his life had gone by in the service, and now he was back. He received the lowest rating that he could have and still be eligible for benefits. He would receive no retirement pay, no pension because of his short enlistment.
His injured arms hung at his side most of the time and I could see the pain in his eyes as he tried to lift them to do the smallest of tasks, and he couldn't hardly grip the dozen or so beers that he would put away every night. But they had sent him packing without any information about benefits or any care that this young man couldn't possibly work a normal job with his injuries. To make matters worse, he found his brother on the street, broken down and drugged or drunk, and had a hard time convincing him to come home. The local cops had impounded his car that he had shipped from Germany because of the out of country plates. He was near busted and he despaired about how he and his brother would survive on their own.
I had just begun to collect everything I thought was relevant to these soldiers lives, not on a web page yet, but on sheets of paper I printed out on my computer that I carried to protests and such in a small suitcase I carried with me, about ways to donate, who to contact and the like. I promised this young man that I would help him. "Don't worry," I told him, not believing the sound of my own voice, "I'll find you help."
I let him go back to his town, promising that I would be in touch. I set to work the next day. The first number I called was an Army relief center. The man on the other end of the line listened to my query for a while and then interrupted, "Is he still in the service?" he asked. I told him no and he bluntly informed me that once these soldiers get discharged there was nothing his agency could do for them. "Did you try Social Services?" he asked. That was my first lesson. We put these folks out there on the line for our country, but when we are done with them they are thrown in line with the rest of the unfortunates to beg for relief.
The young man had lost his records and he would have to appeal to get his disability rating raised so I set to work again. Here's what I found and sent to him:
CALL: MAC VETS- Maryland Center for Veteran's Education and Training
1-410-642-1693 Ask for Anthony Gibson: Lay it all on him and ask his advice and direction. This is a Veteran's Service Organization in Baltimore. Don't let Baltimore scare you away from getting benefits. It just happens to be the place where most of the region's veteran's facilities are located. Don't sweat transportation as most of the initial contacts can be made by mail, phone, or on line. I can help with any of that, and I can be counted on for transport as well to Baltimore if necessary. With that in mind,
I've arranged for your enrollment form for the Veteran's Administration to come to my house. I'll forward it to you with all of the info for you to fill out and send back to the VA. It has to go to a VA medical center and the closest is Baltimore VA Med.Ctr. 10 N. Greene St. 1-410-605-7000 or 1-800-463-6295 You will use these numbers when you check back on the enrollment application you will submit. Don't worry. Not too complicated. I believe you are a priority three out of nine with your 20% disability and entitled to a broad range of benefits through the VA. The VA will help you with your appeal and provide medical care options.
You will need to send a copy of your discharge papers along with the VA enrollment application.
I have enclosed the records request form and instructions. Mail it to the:
National Personnel Records Center
Military Personnel Records
9700 Page Ave.
St. Louis, MO 63132-5100
You should not be going hungry. You should be eligible for Food Stamps. Its really a card that you use at the grocery with no stigma attached. No reason not to pursue this immediately! I've enclosed the application. Fill it out and take it and your brother to the office at 401 Hungerford Rd.
5th Floor phone# 410-240-777-1245 Thirty days from your application(s) you will receive the food stipend.
What to Bring:
Proof of identity (driver’s license, ID card);
Proof of address, unless you are homeless (apartment or house lease, electric, gas, water or phone bill, rent book or receipt, or mortgage statement);
Social Security Number for everyone you are applying for. If you don’t have a number you will have to apply for one;
Proof of the amount all earned and unearned income before taxes or deductions (pay stubs for the past month or two, employer wage statement, benefit letters from Social Security, unemployment compensation, Veteran’s Administration or pensions)
Proof of shelter costs. If you want us to count your actual utility expenses you will have to verify them (rent or mortgage, insurance on your house, telephone, gas, electric, oil and water bills);
Proof of any cash or non-cash assets (most recent savings and checking account statement, value of stocks or bonds);
Proof of immigration status for non-citizens who are applying for food stamps (you do not have to provide any immigration information on people who are not applying for food stamps);
Proof of child support payments you make if you want us to consider the amount you pay (support order, separation agreement, child support records);
Proof of out-of-pocket medical expenses if you are age 60 or older or receive federal disability benefits (doctor or hospital bills; prescription receipts, receipts for over-the-counter medical expenses if prescribed by a medical practitioner; transportation costs to get to medical care);
Proof of child care expenses if you are working or looking for work or in training.
CALL: Mont. County Rental Assistance- 240-777-4550 Lay it on 'em.
Income Support- 240-777-1101 Same.
For Immediate Health Concerns:
Community Clinic of Rockville
107 Fleet St. Rockville Md.20850
310-340-9666- appointment only
Accepted Regardless of Income
SHELTER:
Salvation Army
202 S.Summit Ave.
Gaithersburg, Md.
310-948-1947
Mont. Co. Health and Human Services
Emergency Housing
401 Hungerford Rd. Suite 500
Rockville, Md. 20850
#Rockville, 240-777-4550
#Germantown, 240-777-4448
Well, happy hunting. I will forward everything I get to you right away and you should carry through on your end without delay. At every contact don't hesitate to give a full explanation of your circumstance and expect answers, so be prepared with all questions before you make your calls.
If you need help with calls, mailings, or anything else call me collect, right away! Sooner is always better than later. Don't hesitate to do something because of lack of funds. That can always be worked out. So, get busy and stay in touch. That's all I had. It wasn't enough, but it was at least something. In order to get anything from the military he had to first apply to the VA. That took time and transportation to the one center within miles, and he had lost his car, had no money.
Anyway, back to this Vet at the craft fair: I told the fellow that I wasn't a soldier, just an old hippie. He answered that most folks mistake him for a hippie, though he had served for twenty-some years in the Navy after he returned from Vietnam. He told me that he had gone to college when he got back and had done a term paper on post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and was struck by how many different way it affected the soldiers who had returned. He told me of a friend who had taken a gun and shot up the town when he got home and had ended up in military prison. Another friend had come to him and suggested that they go get him out of there. "How do you propose we do that?" he asked his normally straight, buttoned-down pal.
"Well," the friend had told him, "we'll just go get him."
"You mean, break him out?"
"Yeah."
"What will we do with him then?" he asked his buddy.
"I figured we could go hide out in Montana or something." came the incredulous reply from his suited friend."
"Montana." the Vet laughed. "This fellow was serious, and seriously deluded."
This long-haired veteran then looked up at me and said, "You know, I realized some time back that war affects all of those who fight in wars, in many different ways, even myself." I buttoned up and crouched down in the dirt to look up at him as he started to recall his own dilemma. "I was in Kai son. I don't know if you know anything about Vietnam," he said, "but, there were these attack helicopters that harassed us day and night, pretty fierce battle there. Ever since I got back I had been afraid of helicopters flying overhead. It didn't matter that the war was over, I just couldn't get over the sight and sound of helicopters. Well, one day I got a call from a buddy of mine who served with me, and he had organized a monument up in West Virginia honoring the fallen soldiers and he invited me to come to an opening ceremony where they were honoring a Medal of Honor recipient. I had never even been to the Wall downtown, not to this day. I just couldn't bring myself to go, but this was my good friend and I agreed to attend. I didn't expect there to be anyone there. I thought my buddy was going to be disappointed and that no one would show up so I went to give him some support. But, I was surprised to see when I got there that nearly a thousand folks had shown up. Well, they had arranged, without me knowing, to fly the veteran who had received the Medal of Honor to the event aboard a Huey helicopter. So, here came this copter, bap bap bap, over the trees, and I ducked underneath the pavilion there like I had in the jungle: We always took cover when we heard that sound. It landed and I could see that Medal of Honor around the Veteran's neck, gleaming in the sun and, right then, I lost my fear of helicopters. I haven't had any fear of them since that day, he said."
"I never could understand why we fought that war." I said clumsily. "I never saw what the purpose was."
He quickly corrected me, "We did." he said "We thought we would go in, kick some tail, roll back communism and come home."
"I just couldn't see what we who we were trying to help. They didn't want us over there." I fumbled with my rhetoric.
He corrected me again: "The thing that got to most of us was that we lost that war." he said. "We lost. That was the hardest thing to deal with."
I sensed that this Vet had had enough recall for the day, so I waited a beat. "You know, I heard Country Joe is getting back together." I offered.
"No way!" he smiled, which relieved me.
"Yeah, four original members of his band are still around and their planning a reunion." He recalled a bluegrass concert where some of the Grateful Dead were performing, and we ended our conversation talking about music. I didn't have the temerity to mention that Country Joe was looking for a new Fish Cheer. I excused myself and went back to my wife's booth.
I stopped back by his display before we left to say goodbye. I thanked him for sharing his story with me. "Everybody has a story." he smiled.
"You're right." I answered, "Everyone has a story."
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